"A full report, please," the commissaris said.
De Gier reported.
"Has the copper been returned?" the commissaris asked.
"Yes, sir. That wasn't a real theft, but more like a traditional adventure that islanders go in for, to earn the respect of their peers. The deserter told me all I needed to know. Scherjoen would be bringing in heroin on his own account. He must have sold to Wo Hop, who was making most of the profit. Scherjoen wanted all the profit. He may have planned to sell his next import directly to users, or perhaps he had already sold retail, in Amsterdam of course."
"You were definitely ahead of me," the commissaris said. "Well done, Sergeant. I imagined Scherjoen in the power of the Chinese gangsters and struggling to get free, as you did, but you had some facts."
"Chinese gangsters do not shoot us Dutch," de Gier said. "They do shoot each other. If they hit us, their position weakens further, for we become nervous, refuse to cooperate, and get at them even more. Wo Hop forced his flunky, Oppenhuyzen, to do away with Scherjoen."
"In exchange for more medicine," the commissaris said. "Last night our suspect had heroin up to his ears. Did you see how he reacted when his chief sent him off?"
"I did," de Gier said. "Let's hope he still has some left. He must be under heavy tension. Hylkje and I delivered dead Eddy here last night, and Mrs. Oppenhuyzen kept thinking we had come to arrest her husband."
"Report on that visit."
The commissaris listened.
"Why," de Gier asked finally, "didn't you ask me last night what I was doing in Bolsward, sir?"
"Childishness, Sergeant. I wanted to see if I could figure it out myself."
"You were testing me."
"Please, Sergeant."
"You still want to call on the suspect, sir?"
"I'll have to," the commissaris said. "More childishness. Cardozo's prank with the ghost of Scherjoen slipped completely out of control. I had no idea what horrible artwork those two young jokers might be capable of. My legs were shaking when they popped the result on me. I had meant to bring about a slight shock, but the muses of hell must have inspired Cardozo's effort."
De Gier thought. "Mem Scherjoen?"
The commissaris nodded behind the glowing tip of his cigar.
"She wants you to bring her Oppenhuyzen's scalp?"
The commissaris sighed. "If only that were true. I would have refused. No, Sergeant, I promised to help the poor fellow."
De Gier looked at the sky.
"He won't help," the commissaris said. "Direct your prayers at yourself."
"I wouldn't know how to fix this either," de Gier said, and rang the doorbell of the small summer house.
"You really want to bother Sybe?" Mrs. Oppenhuyzen asked. "He's in pain. Isn't it rather late? Are you a policeman too, sir?"
"Yes," the commissaris said, stamping out his cigar.
"Central Detection?"
"No, ma'am, I want to be of help."
Mrs. Oppenhuyzen shook her head. "Well, come in, then." She took them to the sitting room, pointed at the plastic chairs, and went upstairs.
Adjutant Oppenhuyzen came downstairs, fumbling with the cord that closed his housecoat. "Sorry, sir. I'd gone to bed."
"You're not feeling well?"
The adjutant sat down slowly. "It's not too bad now. I took my medicine."
Mrs. Oppenhuyzen sat down. "Offer the guests something," her husband said.
"In a minute." She held his hand. "I want to be with you."
"I know what medicine you're using," the commissaris said. "It'll be unavailable to you from now on."
"Oh." Mrs. Oppenhuyzen squeezed her husband's hand. "Don't say anything, Sybe."
"It's all right," the adjutant said. "They're colleagues."
"Shut up. Please."
"Your husband can say anything he likes," die commis- saris said. "We can't press charges."
"Make some coffee," Oppenhuyzen said. "I'll call you in a moment. I want to discuss something with the gentlemen."
Mrs. Oppenhuyzen began to cry. De Gier jumped up. "I'll go with you, ma'am. I'm good at making coffee."
"No," Mrs. Oppenhuyzen said. The door banged behind her.
"It was you?" the commissaris asked.
"You mean the business with Douwe?"
"You used your service pistol?"
"Let's say I did," the adjutant said. "There's still no proof. I've read the reports. The bullet wasn't found, and the skull had been damaged by fire."
"You burned the body yourself?"
"Yes," the adjutant said. "The Chinese had the dory ready, but they left too little gasoline. The corpse should have disappeared altogether. I went to see Wo Hop, but he didn't have any more gas, and my face was hurting again. I hadn't used my medicine that night, it always makes me slow."
"I see," the commissaris said.
"I botched the job," Oppenhuyzen said. "I didn't know Douwe personally, or I couldn't have done it at all. Not a good man, was he?"
"Rather not," the commissaris said.
"I never accepted any money, sir."
"There is a doctor in Amsterdam," the commissaris said, "who specializes in your disease. You won't believe me, but he's Chinese too. Still a young man, got his Ph. D. in the treatment of neuralgia."
"I've seen all the specialists," Oppenhuyzen said. "I have the incurable variety. When the pain starts up, I go crazy, I'll take anything that's around, but only heroin helps, it plucks the pain away. If only the doctors would prescribe the drug, but they're too worried about addiction."
"Are you addicted?"
"I don't think so," the adjutant said. "A while back, the pain left me for a few weeks and I never even thought of the drug."
The commissaris tore a page out of his notebook and wrote down the name and address of the Chinese doctor. "Give htm a try. Do you have any plans for the future?"
"None," the adjutant said. "You heard what the chief said. Fm on sick leave until I'm old enough to retire. Maybe I'll fix my house up, the house in the city. This one will fall apart if I touch it with a hammer."
"You're not planning to apply for an interview by Central Detection?"
"No," the adjutant said. "I can't be arrested on my confession alone. There's no proof. No witnesses will ever show. The Chinese who brought the boat and the gas died on the dike. And what about my wife? Shouldn't I look after her?"
Mrs. Oppenhuyzen brought the coffee in.
"I told them," the adjutant said. "It's all right."
"He mustn't give himself up," Mrs. Oppenhuyzen said. "That Douwe wanted to bring poison in. It corrupts young people. But it never bothered Sybe. It's good medicine, but it should be strictly controlled."
"I shouldn't have done it," the adjutant said. "There are some who take bribes, but that's no excuse. I've always tried to be honest. I should have talked to the chief. Douwe took a lot of money from Wo Hop to finance a big import from Turkey, but when he brought it in, he sold it to the junkies himself. Hop doesn't like that."
"Wasn't Douwe afraid of Hop?" de Gier asked.
"He thought Hop would be arrested and kicked out of the country, but Hop has good protection."
De Gier rubbed his hands. "Wo Hop."
"You can't touch him," the adjutant said. "If you go after Hop, you'll have to work in high places."
The commissaris rubbed his hands too. "We might give it a try." He looked at his hands. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to Central Detection? If you do, you've done everything that's humanly possible."
"No," Mrs. Oppenhuyzen said.
The commissaris got up. "And do visit that Chinese doctor. You never know. Maybe it'll work out."