Janwillem De Wetering - Outsider in Amsterdam

Runau moved the throttle and the yacht increased her speed noticeably. "We all are little boys at heart," he said.

"Hmm," Grijpstra said. "Will you be divorcing your wife?"

Runau was looking straight ahead. He looked suddenly tired.

"I think so."

"Any children?"

"No," Runau said. "We haven't been married very long. She is very young, we were going to wait."

"I see," Grijpstra said.

"Nice night, isn't it?" de Gier asked, sticking his head into the cabin. He was rubbing his hands. "Show me where the coffee is and I'll make it."

De Gier busied herself with the small paraffin burner. When the coffee was ready Runau switched the engine off and they listened.

"Can't hear anything," Runau said. "He must have gone the other way. His engine is noisy and the sound carries far on the lake. We'll bear north for a while, he won't have gone south toward Amsterdam, not if he wants to get away. Has he really murdered somebody?"

"We think he has," de Gier said. "He may have been dealing in drugs and we think he has killed his partner. Hung him, making it look like suicide."

"Hung him?" Runau asked. "That's a nasty way to kill somebody. I thought a Papuan would prefer a knife, or a bow and arrows, or a blowpipe."

"He stunned him before he hung him," Grijpstra said.

"That hotter he is sailing, is she fast?" de Gier asked.

Runau shook his head.

"Not very fast. This boat is much faster, but the botter is nicer. She has a lot of character, that boat. Must have cost him money too. A restored boat, some sixty or eighty years old, but the engine is brand new."

"This is a nice boat too," Grijpstra said.

"She is all right," Runau said, "but I would prefer the botter. This is just a little thing for pleasure. I work for the municipality and I don't earn very much. I had to save for years to buy this one but I should have bought a bigger boat. "I'd like to cross the ocean one day; this boat will never make it. The botter could make it, if her deck is sealed properly."

Grijpstra laughed. "Van Meteren may be on his way to New Guinea. We better warn the Water Police to watch the locks in the dike."

"He won't make the dike," Runau said. "We'll find him before he does. Pity I don't have a radio on board."

"That's all right," de Gier said. "The Water Police have been alerted. We'll catch him on the lake, unless, of course, he makes for another port and gets off his boat."

"He won't," Grijpstra said.

Runau had switched the engine off again and raised a finger. They listened.

"You hear?"

"Yes," they said. The heavy plof plof plof of the diesel engine was clearly audible.

"Bah," Grijpstra said, "we need a radio now. The Water Police are watching but they don't know what they are watching."

"There she is," Runau said.

The boat was no more than a black dot on the horizon. Runau got his binoculars and the dot became a little bigger.

"He has a rifle," de Gier said suddenly.

"A what?"

"A rifle," de Gier repeated, "a Lee Enfield rifle. He must be a crack shot with it and I am sure he has hundreds of cartridges."

"But how…?"

"Smuggled it from New Guinea," Grijpstra explained. "We knew he had it but he said it was a souvenir and we let him keep it. Never be kind to anyone. Now he'll kill us with his souvenir."

"We have the carbine," de Gier said.

"No match for a Lee Enfield," Grijpstra said. 'Tell you what-let's just follow him, keeping out of range. It may take a long time but the Water Police will come eventually."

"You could go back to the coast," Runau said, "and make contact with the Water Police. They have some small planes as well."

"No," de Gier said, "I prefer to catch up with him and tell him to surrender. He is a reasonable man and he will have to give himself up. If he starts shooting we can always duck."

R'unau laughed. "That's commando talk. I am with you."

They were both looking at Grijpstra.

"All right," Grijpstra said.

"More coffee," Runau said and filled their cups. "I am beginning to enjoy this. Better than filling in forms at the office."

The hotter was visible now. They saw the thick line of its single mast and a thin short line at the rudder.

"That's him," de Gier said and lifted the carbine. "He must know that it's us."

He aimed the carbine's barrel at the moon and fired. "We are in range already," Grijpstra said. "If he knows how to handle his rifle he can have us with three bullets."

They heard the shot, van Meteren's bullet wined past them."

"That's a warning shot as well," Runau said. "Two meters off at least."

"We'll impress him," Grijpstra said.

De Gier gave Runau his pistol and together they fired a ragged salvo at the moon. The crack of the carbine swallowed the small explosions of the pistol cartridges.

They were close now, sixty meters at the most, going into the same direction.

"Careful," de Gier said and ducked.

Van Meteren fired three times, the bullets just missed.

"He is serious now," Runau said.

"Not really serious," Grijpstra answered. "He missed us didn't he?"

"Hello," van Meteren called.

"Yes?" Grijpstra's voice was very pleasant.

"You can stand up," van Meteren shouted. "I want to talk to you. I won't fire."

"That's all right, friend," Grijpstra shouted, he got up, de Gier and Runau following his example.

"I can hit you easily from here," van Meteren shouted. "I have enough ammunition on board to keep it up all day, far more than you have. But I don't want to kill you. Go away and let me go."

"We can't," Grijpstra said, his deep voice being carried by the still air above the water.

"You are suspected of having committed a murder, van Meteren. It's the most serious crime our law knows. You have to surrender or we'll be following you until the Water Police catch up with you. We would prefer you to surrender now. If you hit or wound us you'll be in worse trouble than you are now."

Van Meteren looked at him. He was holding the rifle. De Gier was holding the carbine.

"You are crazy," van Meteren shouted. "I am a better shot than any of you. This rifle is powerful, I can shoot holes in your boat."

"Surrender," de Gier shouted. "Put your rifle down."

"No. I want you to go into the cabin and sit on the table. I am going to approach from behind and sink your boat. Then I'll drop my rubber dinghy and sail away. I'll phone the Water Police and tell them where you are."

"You'll be caught anyway," de Gier shouted.

"Not necessarily," van Meteren said. "Please go into your cabin. Sit on the table. I'll aim as low as I can."

Grijpstra and Runau went into the cabin. De Gier pretended to follow but he turned at the last moment. Van Meteren had been expecting the shot. The bullet missed him by at least a foot.

De Gier wanted to fire again but Grijpstra pulled him into the cabin.

"Idiot," Grijpstra said.

"De Gier breathed deeply and got onto the table. They heard the hotter turn around and the Lee Enfield began to fire, slowly and methodically. Five holes appeared near the yacht's rudder, a few inches above the waterline.

Van Meteren wasn't satisfied.

The next five holes were lower.

"Good work," Runau said. "We'll sink for sure. I hope the dinghy isn't too small."

The hotter's diesel accelerated. De Gier jumped off the table, aimed and emptied his carbine's clip. He had been so quick that Grijpstra's hand hit his shoulder when the last bullet had left the carbine's barrel.

"Fool," Grijpstra roared.

"I hit him," de Gier said. "The first shot got him. In the shoulder. I saw him go down."

"Not very nice," Runau said. "He was aiming at the boat. You aimed at his body."

De Gier didn't answer. His face was very pale, he was staring at the hotter.