"Now what?" Grijpstra asked. "He just ate a quarterpound of cheese. Hungry again?"
"Limited program," de Gier said. "Probably expressing positive emotion now. Rats can't talk, you know." De Gier dried Eddy with a dishcloth and took him to the living room, where he jumped on the couch.
"Are you going to cook now?" Grijpstra asked. "And do some shopping first?"
"Will you be doing something too?"
Grijpstra prepared for a nap on the couch, after shooing Eddy away. The rat climbed a chair, wrapped his naked tail around his bare feet, and sighed contentedly. The sigh contained a vague shadow of a rattle.
"Rats are supposed to squeak," Grijpstra said.
"Maybe a cold?" de Gier asked. "Cardozo is suffering too. He found Scherjoen's car, a Citroen like the commissaris's, and there was an old-model Mauser in the door pocket, loaded but clean."
Grijpstra opened an eye. "Douwe didn't feel safe?"
"And drove an expensive car," de Gier said. "My conclusions are as limited as yours."
"Let's hear more."
"The car was parked halfway on the pavement. Locked."
"I often park halfway on the pavement," Grypstra said.
"When you're in a hurry?"
"Nah," Grijpstra said. "When I feel like it. Lazy. Don't feel like parking the vehicle properly between others. Why bother? Nobody bothers in Amsterdam."
De Gier tickled Eddy's head.
"Do hurry up," Grijpstra said. "The stores are about to close."
De Gier came back with canned pea soup, bread, and butter.
Grijpstra opened the door. "I can't sleep with that rat."
They sat at the living room table. Eddy stood on a cushion placed on a chair, so that he could lean his head on the table.
"Can he go home now?" Grijpstra asked. "He's got a home. Take him upstairs."
"No," de Gier said. "Three is a party. Things are looking up again. I was about to get depressed. On the dike the exhaust fell off the car, and the traffic was clogged up again because of checkpoints stopping trucks suspected of transporting animals carrying the plague."
Grijpstra ladled out thick soup. "So what made the change?"
"Corporal Hilarius," de Gier said. "Remember her? With the hoarse voice and the golden hair under the orange helmet? She showed up again and guided me through the checkpoints and along to her father in the town of Tzum."
"Tzum," Grijpstra said. His knuckles beat out a rhythm on the tabletop. "Tzam. Tzom." The rhythm sped up, holding several patterns of a fairly complicated beat. De Gier sang and whistled in turn. Eddy's chin trembled as he rattled in the pauses.
"Tzum?" Grijpstra's hands stopped in middair.
"Her father runs a garage and was willing to exchange favors. The exhaust is back on the car again."
"What was your favor?"
"Admiration of his daughter. Some woman, that corporal. Did you hear her voice, added to a multitude of other charms?"
"That mechanized robot at a hundred and fifty miles an hour?"
"Okay," de Gier said, "she is that too, but she's mostly beautiful and female. She'll be taking me out later tonight, to a beer house-that's what they call cafes here. I'm sure she's well formed under all that leather." De Gier was quiet, impressed by the memory mixed with fantasy leading, perhaps, to future passion. "Hylkje," de Gier said, "that's her first name. To you, as a Frisian, the name is probably common, but to me the sound is exotic. Exciting too."
"And Jane?"
"She's exciting in Amsterdam, but I'm here."
"You aren't even faithful to your dreams."
"Faithful?" De Gier waved the word away. "Women aren't faithful either. An idea from the past. You're always running up from behind, Adjutant. You really think that the modern solitary female expects her casual male company to be faithful?"
The doorbell rang. Grijpstra struggled up and looked out the window. "A squad car outside. The corporal probably put in a complaint. What did you do to her? Never abuse a colleague."
De Gier opened the door. "Evening, sir."
"Rinus," the commissaris said. "How nice. Once again, together in a foreign country, but this time it's mine. I can show you around. I was born here, in the city of Joure."
"It tibben is hearlik, mynhear."
"What's that?"
"I spoke your language, sir. A sentence from the Frisian novel I'm reading. It says that life is wonderful here."
"Evening, sir," Grijpstra said. "Did you have a good journey? Please don't pay attention to de Gier. Perhaps you'll be good enough to take him with you when you return. Is it true that we can't declare expenses?"
"Where's your car?" de Gier asked, watching the squad car's taillights fade away at the end of the street.
"Lost my way a little," the commissaris said. "You already look like a local, Grijpstra. I got twisted out of my course in the alleys of the inner city here. One-way traffic, mostly. I did try to adhere to the rules, but the cars kept coming at me from all sides. Couldn't cope with the confusion. And when I parked, that was illegal too. The officers who told me that gave me a ride here."
"Do you remember where you parked?"
The commissaris felt through his pockets. "What did I do with the note? Some narrow street called Cellars or something? 'Above the Cellars'? Street names are poetic here. I want to see the chief constable at headquarters later, and the officers drew me a little map. Kind of aim out of the city, reach a circular highway, quite complicated. It was all on that little piece of paper. Can't seem to be able to find it now. I wonder if I left it in their car?"
"De Gier will take you," Grypstra said. "And we'll find your car. 'Cellars,' you said?"
"Or was it 'Well'?" the commissaris asked. "A little street called Around the Well? Would that be possible? And I crossed some Gardens too, but they were canals really, with narrow quays on the side, aquatic gardens perhaps? Water lilies? Flowering reeds? I think I noticed plants."
"We'll take care of everything," Grypstra said. "Please come in, sir."
The commissaris looked about him. "Cozy. Too much wallpaper, perhaps? I say, Sergeant, there's a rat on that chair."
De Gier picked up the rat. "The name is Eddy, sir." He turned the rat over. "Cute, don't you think?"
The commissaris scratched Eddy's pale pink skin.
"Put him away," Grypstra said. "He'll be rattling again."
Eddy twisted free, jumped down, and ran to the kitchen. De Gier followed. The commissaris came along. De Gier made coffee while Eddy slurped milk from a jug. "A dairy rat," de Gier said. "Fancies rare cheese too. I'd better wash that jug. So the local chief constable did contact you, sir?"
"And the colonel of the State Police and the major of the Military Police. General alarm, Sergeant. We'll be seeing some activity here. They'll bring in Arrest Teams from all over. Roadblocks manned by riot police, detectives from the capital dressed up as cattle dealers, and the chief constable himself in charge."
Grypstra had joined them. "Big trouble, sir?"
"There'll even be psychologists to predetermine the subjects' behavior."
"What subjects?" Grijpstra asked.
The commissaris explained about the criminals Ary and Fritz.
•Two lone robbers?" Grijpstra asked. "But that's easy, one just grabs them. And then one takes them to the station."
"That's how it was done in the past," the commissaris said.
"Grab them by the collars," Grijpstra insisted. "Or no, not even that. If suspects are known, they can be picked up at their homes later, when they're drinking beer and watching TV."
"You ever heard about unemployment?" de Gier asked. "This little job can occupy a hundred police workers. All sorts of specially trained colleagues can be active and under the impression mat they're functioning properly, which will add to their self-respect."
The commissaris looked over his coffee cup. "And Douwe Scherjoen?"