The island doctor spoke to the doctor the launch had brought. De Gier introduced the two doctors to the commissaris. Buisman was carried ashore on a stretcher and de Gier supported Grijpstra, who had stopped pretending and who now accepted help. A local car offered to take the two policemen to Buisman's house. Buisman's wife, a fat kindly-looking woman, went with them.
De Gier felt a hand on his shoulder and looked around.
"Right," the commissaris said, "let's have some coffee somewhere. You got my cable, I see."
17
They had coffee, they had lunch, they had more coffee, and then they had some brandy.
"Well," the commissaris said finally, when de Gier, now very relaxed and smiling, had finally stopped talking.
"So you two would have found him anyway."
"Perhaps not," de Gier said.
"Yes, you would have found him."
"No, sir. I am not sure. The siren of the police launch shook him. And it was you who sent the launch, she came to bring your Telex."
"Yes, perhaps."
The commissaris smiled. "I wouldn't have minded if you had found him on your own. The trip to Curacao was a good trip."
"What happened?" de Gier asked.
They had more brandy. The afternoon passed as the commissaris talked.
"But why?" the commissaris asked. "Why think of Drachtsma?"
They were walking toward Buisman's house and the rain had started again. The commissaris had no raincoat and they were walking quickly.
"Let's go into the hotel, sir, we can go later, or telephone. Perhaps we should go tomorrow."
"All right, I'll book into the hotel. Why Drachtsma?"
"He is a powerful man," de Gier said, struggling out of his duffelcoat.
"Yes," the commissaris said.
They sat down in de Gier's room and the commissaris rubbed his legs.
"How are your legs, sir?"
"They hurt again. They didn't hurt in . I'll have a hot bath later."
The commissaris stretched out on the bed that Grijpstra had used.
"IJsbrand Drachtsma is a powerful man."
"Yes," de Gier said, "and Maria van Buren was a powerful woman."
"I see," the commissaris said. "He wanted to own her and she was manipulating him. A conflict of interest. It might be a motive."
"She was a sorcerer, a witch," de Gier said. "You found her master. What was he like?"
"I told you," the commissaris said. "I never found out what he was like. I fell asleep on his porch and I left when I woke up. He was very kind to me."
"Perhaps he was a good sorcerer," de Gier said. "Magic goes both ways, doesn't it."
"Yes. I thought about that too. She was his disciple. She learned from him. She got some power."
"And she used it the other way around."
"All right, all right," the commissaris said. "She put a spell on Drachtsma. The big tycoon, the president of companies, the hero-soldier, the sportsman, the intellectual, the leader. And she had him on a string. So he killed her."
"Yes," de Gier said.
"But he couldn't have," the commissaris said. "He had an alibi. I checked his alibi. I spoke to the German police. The two men who confirmed that they spent that Saturday with him, all day and all evening, are respectable men. Drachtsma was in Schierrnonnikoog when Maria caught the knife in her back."
De Gier lit a cigarette and walked over to die window. "Perhaps Drachtsma learned some sorcery as well," de Gier said.
The commissaris sat up, looking at de Gier's back.
"He used Rammy Scheffer, you mean," he said.
De Gier didn't answer.
"Could be," the commissaris said slowly. "Rammy Scheffer is a mentally disturbed man. He dropped out of the merchant navy. He hates his father. His father didn't marry his mother. And he loved his sister."
"Jehovah," de Gier muttered.
"The Bible," the commissaris said. "Have you read the Bible, de Gier?"
"Yes. At Sunday school. I know some of the Old Testament by heart."
"The Bible is an interesting book," the commissaris said.
De Gier turned around quickly. "A very dangerous book, sir."
"If it is read the wrong way."
"I saw a German army belt once," de Gier said. "Somebody had kept it as a souvenir of the war. It had some words on the clasp, GOTT MIT UNS."
"God with us," the commissaris said.
"The SS soldiers wore those belts too," de Gier said. "They killed six million Jews."
"Yes," the commissaris said slowly. "So Drachtsma played on the feelings of Maria's half brother. He told her that Satan had got into her and had made her his vehicle."
"Hard to prove," de Gier said.
"Impossible to prove. But we could satisfy our curiosity. We could go and see Drachtsma."
"He was talking to you on the quay, wasn't he, sir?"
"Yes," the commissaris said, "and he was very nervous. He kept on talking, I couldn't get a word in edgewise once he got started."
"Was he saying anything?"
"No. He was asking what I thought. If I thought that poor fellow had done it. He said he knew him well and that Rammy is mentally unstable."
"Did you tell him that Rammy Scheffer was Maria van Buren's half brother?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"He said he didn't know."
18
It was five o'clock in the afternoon and the Commissaris was about to lower himself into the bath when the telephone in his room began to ring.
"This is Drachtsma."
The commissaris mumbled something, trying to hold on to the towel which was slipping off his narrow hips.
"I thought that you would perhaps stay on the island until tomorrow and I was wondering if you would care to join us for dinner tonight. The island's mayor is coming as well and some of the aldermen and I thought that you might like to meet them."
"Thank you," the commissaris said, trying to light a cigar and hold on to the towel at the same time. "Would you mind if I brought my assistant, Sergeant de Gier? I don't think he'll enjoy having dinner by himself and Adjutant Grijpstra is ill and staying with the Buismans for the time being."
There was a short silence. "I don't know whether the sergeant will feel comfortable in the presence of tonight's company."
The commissaris bit on his cigar, it broke, and he spat it out.
"I am sure he'll be quite comfortable."
"All right," Drachtsma said. "The sergeant will be welcome. I wonder if you could come between seven and seven-thirty? Shall I send the car for you?"
"I have seen your house, somebody pointed it out to me. It couldn't be more than a few miles from the hotel. I think we'll walk."
"See you tonight," Drachtsma said.
"Bah," the commissaris said, lit a fresh cigar, picked up the towel and marched into the bathroom.
De Gier was telephoning to Headquarters in Amsterdam.
"We have got him," he was saying to Adjutant Geurts, "a half-brother of the murdered woman. Family drama, very sad."
"Did he confess?"
"No, he went mad instead."
"But you are sure he did it?"
"He threw the knife," de Gier said.
"Congratulations. What about this Mr. Holman, the fellow with the red waistcoat? He is due to come to see us again tonight. We had him here yesterday as well."
"No, he is all right," de Gier said.
"I am not so sure. He is very nervous, you know, he must be hiding something or other."
"Probably hasn't paid enough tax," de Gier said. "Phone him and tell him we have found our man."
"All right," Adjutant Geurts said. "Give me a ring when you get to Amsterdam, I'll meet you somewhere for a drink. Sietsema and I would like to hear all about it."