"You do that," de Gier said. "That'll keep you out of trouble."
"Will you get me a photo?" Cardozo asked. "Of Douwe? Please?"
"Ah," the commissaris said, "I keep forgetting to tell you, Sergeant. Tell Grypstra that the chief constable here gave permission for you two to operate in Friesland, but you can't declare costs. The administration is tightening up. Since you have to eat anyway, you pay for your own meals, and any extras are at your own expense too."
"The photo," Cardozo said.
"Theoretically you couldn't even take the Volkswagen," the commissaris said, "but the vehicle was written off a long time ago and is no longer recognized by the administration, so take it along."
"That's understood, sir."
"I won't be declaring costs, either," the commissaris said. "I haven't declared anything for a while. Officers of my rank are considered to be a useless weight these days."
"But you will be around?"
"Of course," the commissaris said. "As a Frisian, I'm supporting the cause. I was born in Joure. A good opportunity to return to the land of my birth. What matters these days is to be able to combine circumstances in a propitious manner. I'm supposed to be home at night, so I can drive up and down the dike."
"Living well is the best revenge," de Gier said.
"You want to get even?"
"Me?" de Gier asked.
"You're not in this," Cardozo interrupted. "I am. I'll be doing something. I'll be doing something now. Don't forget the photo."
"I'll be going now," de Gier said.
"I'll be going later," the commissaris said, "once the Frisian authorities have contacted this office."
"A truly splendid country, sir," de Gier said. "I kept meeting you out there. You have something that I thought to be quite rare, but in your country it is offered from all sides."
"What something, Sergeant?"
"It's all so oars" de Gier said. "Beg pardon, that's Frisian, sir. So otherwise, I meant to say. How shall I express that exotic feeling?"
The commissaris pointed at the books under de Gier's arm. "You really managed to make sense of Frisian literature?"
"I did."
"Read me a little."
De Gier opened the novel and cleared his throat. "Are you ready?"
"Go ahead."
"Female thought, sir, thought by a certain Martha."
"Go ahead, Sergeant."
De Gier read in Frisian. "'I have to go to the bathroom now/"
"Translate."
De Gier translated.
"A deep thought," the commissaris said. "And well expressed. Very different. Exceptional, are they?"
De Gier looked for a better quote.
"Never mind," the commissaris said. "Go join Grijpstra, he'll be needing the car. I'm quite sure he won't be needing you"
\\\\\ 7 /////
De Gier rang the doorbell. A man opened the door. He wore a fisherman's jersey that followed his ample belly along a wide curve, and he had tied a bright red bandanna around his neck. A flat fanner's cap sat on his head.
"Is it you?" de Gier asked.
"It is," said Grijpstra. "How do you like me in Frisian?"
"Yes," de Gier said. "Are you living here?"
"You are too," Grijpstra said, "for you will be staying with me. Do try to be tidy, for it's most kind of Adjutant Oppenhuyzen to let us live here for free. He forgot Eddy. Mrs. Oppenhuyzen just telephoned about Eddy."
De Gier walked into a long corridor. "How police-like to forget your own son. Confirms my theory. Police-people do not function well within normal society. They therefore allow themselves to be cast out. Once they're cast out, they turn on society. The police are criminal in essence."
"Not his son," Grypstra said. "His rat. The rat lives upstairs, I haven't seen him yet. Let's go look together. You'll have to take care of Eddy."
"A pet rat?" de Gier asked. "My hypothesis stands confirmed. Only the perverted will pet a rat. Cast out because of perversion, the policeman attacks the society in which he does not fit."
"Don't carry on so," Grijpstra said, dragging his feet on the staircase. "The adjutant was ill. Something wrong with his face. He kept grabbing at his cheeks. His wife was all worried. They suddenly had to move to their summer house, and they had to get everything together in a rush; surely the circumstances permitted forgetting a mere rat."
De Gier wandered in and out of rooms. 'Too many roses on the wallpaper, and I don't care for the furniture either. Bought at sales throughout the centuries. Can we get rid of it? Stack it in the garage? Okay if I whitewash the walls? This jumble of colors should be an insult to your painter's perception. Where is this rat?"
"Here," Grijpstra said. "In the terrarium. By the way, he lives on a diet of Frisian cheese. Adjutant Oppenhuyzen has already phoned me twice. He left a pound of cheese. You think he got away?"
De Gier studied more wallpaper.
"In the sawdust?" Grijpstra asked, lifting the glass top of the terrarium and digging about with his finger. "Hey!" He jumped back.
A white pointed snout protruded from the sawdust. Red eyes peered out shyly. Long yellow protruding teeth extended beyond a receding bald chin. Ragged mustache hairs trembled. "And we've got to hold that?" Grypstra asked nervously.
"Hi, Eddy," de Gier said.
"Got to hold him once in a while. Mrs. Oppenhuyzen's instructions. Put the top down." Grijpstra's voice broke into a squeak.
The rat rattled.
De Gier lifted Eddy from the terrarium, turned him over, and held his ear to Eddy's belly. "He must be hungry."
"Let go of that beast," Grypstra said. "I don't want to engage in a relationship with a rattle-rat. I'll make a phone call. The Oppenhuyzens are in Engwierum. Has to be around here somewhere. Drop the rat and cover the terrarium. They'll have to pick him up."
"It's hunger that makes him rattle. Here, listen for yourself." De Gier held Eddy close to Grijpstra's ear. Grijpstra backed up against the wall. "Nice little animal," de Gier said, and buried his nose in Eddy's fur. "You come along with your Uncle Rinus."
Eddy hung over de Gier's flat hand. De Gier carried him downstairs, and together they looked into the refrigerator. Eddy waited on the table while de Gier sliced the cheese. "Here you are." Eddy ate. "You see?" de Gier asked. "Ravenous, the poor little sucker."
"You take care of the beast," Grijpstra said. "And of the plants. I've got a list here. All plants are numbered, and each plant has different watering times. The required quantities are listed in cubic centimeters, right here. You have to pour carefully, not slosh the water into the pots; there's a note to that effect. The plants marked with an A are fed crystals from this can, and the?'s are fed from the can over there."
"What?" de Gier asked.
"And here are cleaning instructions," Grijpstra said. "What cleaning product does what, and where the containers can be found. And here's some paper for the administration of our expenses. Make careful notes, for we can claim them afterward."
"We can't claim anything," de Gier said, "compliments of the commissaris. New regulations for out-of-town police officers on the job. It doesn't matter where we operate. No declarations."
"What?" Grijpstra asked.
De Gier stroked the rat.
"Leave the varmint alone," Grypstra said. "Rats are loaded with disease. Ah, that's another thing, we've got to wash him too."
"Consider it done." De Gier turned on a faucet. The rat rattled excitedly. "You like that, do you?" De Gier mixed soap suds with hot water in a bowl. "Can you get in by yourself?" Eddy clambered into his bath. His head hung over the edge while de Gier kneaded the wet little body gently. The rat's rattle became louder.