Marnie Riches - The Girl Who Got Revenge - The addictive new crime thriller of 2018

Avon an imprint of

HarperCollins Publishers

The News Building

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain in ebook format by HarperCollins Publishers 2018

Copyright © Marnie Riches 2018

Cover design © Debbie Clements 2018

Cover image © Shutterstock.com

Marnie Riches asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © April 2018 ISBN: 9780008204006

Version: 2018-02-12

This book is dedicated to the memory of my cousin, Beverley Thorpe, whose light shone brightly but faded far too soon.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue: Amsterdam, the House of Brechtus Bruin, 2 October

Chapter 1: Amsterdam, Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, 3 October

Chapter 2: Port of Amsterdam, Later

Chapter 3: Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, a Short While Later

Chapter 4: North Holland Farmland Near Nieuw-Vennep, Den Bosch Farm, Later Still

Chapter 5: Amsterdam, Van Den Bergen’s Doctor’s Surgery, 4 October

Chapter 6: Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, Later

Chapter 7: Amsterdam, Mortuary, Later Still

Chapter 8: Amsterdam, Police Headquarters, 9 October

Chapter 9: Amsterdam, the Home of Kaars Verhagen, 10 October

Chapter 10: Amsterdam, Den Bosch’s House in de Pijp, Later

Chapter 11: Amsterdam, Oud Zuid, Kaars Verhagen’s House, 12 October

Chapter 12: Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, Later

Chapter 13: Amsterdam, Police Headquarters, 17 October

Chapter 14: Den Bosch’s House in de Pijp, Then a Mosque Near Bijlmer, Later

Chapter 15: Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, 18 October

Chapter 16: Amstelveen, Tamara’s House, Later

Chapter 17: The Practice of dr André Baumgartner, Oud Zuid, Later

Chapter 18: Amstelveen, Tamara’s House, Then the Mosque Near Bijlmer, Later

Chapter 19: Amstelveen, Tamara’s House, Later

Chapter 20: Police Headquarters, Later Still

Chapter 21: Hoek Van Holland, Stena Line Ferry, That Evening

Chapter 22: Harwich International Port, Then Cambridge, 19 October

Chapter 23: Amsterdam, Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, Then the Sloterdijkermeer Allotments, Then the Drie Goudene Honden Pub, Later

Chapter 24: London, a Sandwich Shop in New Cross, Then Aunty Sharon’s House in Catford, 20 October

Chapter 25: The Den Bosch Farm Near Nieuw-Vennep, Then Houses in de Pijp, Later

Chapter 26: The House of Kaars Verhagen, Oud Zuid, Much Later

Chapter 27: South East London, Aunty Sharon’s House, 21 October

Chapter 28: Amsterdam, the House of Kaars Verhagen, 23 October

Chapter 29: En Route to Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, Later

Chapter 30: Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, Minutes Later

Chapter 31: Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, Then an Uber Taxi, Later

Chapter 32: En Route to the Den Bosch Farm, Later

Chapter 33: Den Bosch’s House, de Pijp, Then the Den Bosch Farm Near Nieuw-Vennep, at the Same Time

Chapter 34: The Den Bosch Farm, at the Same Time

Chapter 35: The Den Bosch Farm, at the Same Time

Chapter 36: The Den Bosch Farm, at the Same Time

Chapter 37: The Den Bosch Farm, at the Same Time

Chapter 38: The Den Bosch Farm, Several Minutes Earlier

Chapter 39: Amsterdam, the Onze Lieve Vrouwehospitaal, 24 October

Chapter 40: Amsterdam, Police Headquarters, 31 October

Chapter 41: Amsterdam, Schiphol Airport, Then Police Headquarters, 8 November

Chapter 42: Van Den Bergen’s Apartment, 30 November

Acknowledgements

Keep Reading …

About the Author

About the Publisher

Brechtus Bruin was not aware that the kitchen clock ticking away on the wall was counting down the last few minutes of his ninety-five years. His movements had slowed of late, and now his complexion was noticeably wan and waxy. Perhaps he was finally feeling the poison in his bones that rainy morning. He must surely have been wondering that his shaking, liver-spotted hands wouldn’t obey his still-sharp brain, telling him to pour the coffee.

‘Here, Brechtus. Let me help you. Please.’

His guest had been sitting at a worn Formica table in that homely place, waiting. He had been drinking in the familiar scene of the cramped kitchen with its sticky, terracotta-painted walls. Savouring the stale scent of cakes that had been baked decades ago by Brechtus’s long-dead wife. Now, he stood to take the kettle from the old man.

‘You sit down. I’ve got this. Honestly.’

‘I don’t like people fussing,’ Brechtus said, wiping the sweat from his poorly shaven upper lip. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve not been feeling myself. You know?’ His breath came short. His Adam’s apple lurched up and down inside his haggard old neck. ‘Not just my bad back. More than that. I feel…’ He pursed his deeply pruned lips together and frowned. ‘Wrong. Horrible, in fact.’

Brechtus Bruin fixed his guest with the dulled irises of a dead man walking. There was fear and confusion in those bloodshot eyes; eyes that had seen almost a century of life. Even at his grand age, it was clear that he didn’t want to go. But any minute now, one of the greatest heroes of Amsterdam’s WWII resistance would be nothing more than an obituary in de Volkskrant .

Slipping a little extra Demerol and OxyContin into the old man’s coffee cup, he hoped that the taste wouldn’t be bitter enough to put him off one final swig.

‘There you go, Brechtus,’ he said, setting the mug down on the table. ‘Drink it while it’s hot. Maybe you’re just coming down with something. There’s an awful lot of bugs going round at the moment.’

The coffee sloshed around as the old man raised the mug to his mouth with an unsteady hand. His thin arms barely looked capable of holding even this meagre weight.

Go on, drink it, the guest thought. Let’s finish this.

He savoured the sight as Brechtus Bruin gulped down the hot contents, grimacing and belching as he set the cup back down.

‘I think maybe the milk was off,’ he said.

Still, the clock ticked. Even closer to the end, now. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Brechtus’s pallor was the first indication that the medication had started to do its work. Then, the sheen of sweat on the old man’s face grew suddenly slicker, giving him a waxy look, as though he were preserved in formaldehyde. One side of his face started to sag in a strange palsy. The old man’s eyes widened.