Janwillem De Wetering - Hard Rain

"A black Porsche, sir, Cardozo checked on the computer."

"Yes," the commissaris said. "Very clever, these technical wonders. But if Cardozo and that expert friend of his can break into the police system through a computer that's hooked up to my phone, then anyone else has access to our files too. That's rather frightening, I think."

De Gier cursed as an open sports car overtook the Citroen, blowing its horn. "Ryder, sir. Did you see him? That fat blob? In a Ferrari?"

The commissaris nodded. "Not a sympathetic man, but speeding toward his death. We'll have to prevent that killing, Rinus. I thought about it. It would be tempting to let young Fernandus press his button to strengthen our charge, but there's been enough murder for now. Ridiculous. We've had six corpses so far, all because of a weakening in the Murder Brigade."

"Suicide of the Society," de Gier said. "Who cares? IJsbreker and Heul were criminals, and the junkies wouldn't have lived long anyway. I'm only concerned about Celine. Ryder can go too."

"A capitalist?" the commissaris asked. "Capitalists are still legal and should enjoy our protection."

"Woosh," de Gier said, lifting his hand from the wheel. "There goes Ryder. I grab young Fernandus."

"You grab him before the woosh," the commissaris said. "That's an order, Sergeant. Huip could be anywhere when he sets off the bomb, that's my worry, anywhere within sight of the lake. We only have six men out there."

"Six fishermen," de Gier said. "Grnpstra was all upset about his fishing gear. I saw them getting into the Camaro and the Corvette, with Grijpstra's complete fishing rod collection. You really won over those State detectives; they gave up their free weekend to help us out again. Ketchup and Karate were all gung-ho, of course."

"Unbridled energy," the commissaris said. "Only useful if we can contain that youthful zest. I'm surprised that you're not losing your adventurous streak, you should be maturing by now. Obtain some distance. I urge you to follow my orders closely."

De Gier grinned. "I'm still suspended, sir. I haven't received word that I'm on the force again."

"I give you the word."

"No, sir, you can't. You haven't been officially reinstated either. The chief inspector's word doesn't count, he's lower in rank than you."

"Next turn," the commissaris said. "That'll be the Society's motel. I don't want you to be seen. We could hide in the bushes, perhaps, and find some vantage point that'll look out on the motel's marina and the lake, and as close as possible to Huip Fernandus."

The motel was surrounded by ornamental gardens. De Gier parked next to Ryder's Ferrari. "I'll be off," the commissaris said. "Meet you behind the rhododendrons over there."

De Gier looked in the Ferrari and saw a jacket on the seat. He picked it up. Something rattled. He removed a bunch of keys and a wallet from the jacket's pockets. The uniformed driver of an old-model Rolls-Royce parked farther along was watching. "Friend of mine, Ronnie Ryder," de Gier told the driver. "Shouldn't leave his keys and valuables in the car. I'll give them to him. Is this Mr. Fernandus's car?"

"No," the driver said. "All mine. Fernandus has been renting my Rolls by the day."

"I thought Fernandus drove a Daimler."

"Then he should be driving his Daimler," the chauffeur said. "I'm getting mighty tired of Fernandus. Here, sir, my card. I'm available. Pass on the news to your wealthy friends."

"You don't like Willem Fernandus?" de Gier asked pleasantly.

"Can't stand him, sir. He's with his son today, and the son is even worse. I need a change."

"Where were you?" the commissaris asked when de Gier showed up.

"Just checking, sir. Fernandus came with his son today, I thought you'd like to know."

They walked past tennis courts where fresh young ladies in short skirts missed balls, and past a lawn where old men in checkered pants drove about in golf carts. The commissaris muttered.

"Don't care, for ball sports, sir?"

"Balls have always infuriated me," the commissaris said, "probably because I could never catch them, except on my head. Here, this might be a good spot." He adjusted his binoculars, aiming them at the motel's terrace. "That's Fernandus, sitting with Ryder and an unknown subject. Here, take these, you have better eyes."

De Gier looked through the glasses. "The young fatso is Huip. I can see his pimples. Yagh, must weigh two hundred pounds and he's as short as his father."

"Can't spot the baron," the commissaris said.

"On the far end, sir, sitting by himself."

"Right." The commissaris grunted. "He does look like a darker version of you. Wavy hair, hooked nose, same posture. You even dress alike."

"The black knight," de Gier said. "Waiting for his rightful fate."

"Are we close enough, you think?" the commissaris asked. "As soon as Ryder takes off in the boat, you'll have to make a dash for the terrace and grab Huip. Get the infernal gadget that'll set off the bomb away from him as soon as you can. Huip won't blow up the boat if it's too close to the terrace. Get hold of his arms and twist them up."

De Gier was looking at the baron.

"Rinus?"

"Yes, sir."

Fernandus and son were chatting and drinking. Ryder ate. A waiter brought a bottle of wine.

"Taking their time," the commissaris said. "I hope we got this thing right and that Heul wasn't trying to impress us."

"Heul is dead," de Gier said. "He got killed because he was seen being arrested by Grijpstra and Cardozo. They didn't want to take any chances when Heul popped up again. They leaned on him and he betrayed his betrayal."

"Possibly," the commissaris said. "In which case they won't try to murder Ryder here." He slapped at a mosquito. "So we're wasting our time. Katrien put a thermos of coffee in the car."

"There's Grijpstra," de Gier said, "on the other shore. He just caught a fish. Man in the cap. And the little fellow farther along must be Cardozo, he's wearing red suspenders."

"You're sure?"

"Not sure," de Gier said. "They're partly hidden in the cattails. Should be them."

"There's still a lot that could go wrong," the commissaris said. "Perhaps I should have taken more precautions. Ah, Ryder is getting up. Look at that speedboat's engine, must be over a hundred horsepower. Huip is getting in."

De Gier whistled softly.

"No," the commissaris said. "That can't be correct. Huip should stay ashore. Now Ryder is getting in too. Are they going out together?"

De Gier dropped his binoculars. "We were misinformed. Huip won't blow himself up. I don't get what they're at."

"Oh, well," the commissaris sighed. "I had to fail somewhere. Too many factors in the equation again. I did try to fit them all in, but I have missed a few here and there. We'll have to rethink our attack most thoroughly next time. Poor Katrien."

De Gier peered through his binoculars. "They're taking off. Your wife, sir?"

"All my guests," the commissaris said. "Katrien wasn't too pleased with Miss Antoinette's arrival this morning. I can't expect her to keep running a hotel. Look, Sergeant, that boat is still increasing speed. Not a good idea. The wake will disturb the canoe over there. Not too thoughtful."

"Bastards," de Gier said. "There are little kids in the canoe. They're turning now, they think the lake belongs to them."

"Don't like it," the commissaris said. "Don't like this at all." He made an impatient gesture. "Surely not."

"What?"

"I was thinking," the commissaris said. "Like in Paris then… but Willem wouldn't… it doesn't really prove anything… although

…"

The explosion wasn't too loud, but a huge orange ball of fire formed immediately, ballooning up, shot through with burning remnants of the exploding boat. Two bright flaming objects were suspended well above the water where the boat was last seen. De Gier jumped and ran to the terrace. The commissaris limped after him. Startled guests had pushed over their tables and thronged the edge of the dock. Men jumped in boats and started up engines. Waves set up by Ryder's boat lapped against the marina's posts and planks. De Gier ran to the end of the terrace where he had seen de la Faille, but the baron was gone. Fernandus still sat at his table, sipping wine. The commissaris fell into the chair where Ryder had sat. "You… you…"