Anik had no option but to come clean. ‘Mr Chi, I’m sorry, but I’m not here about a painting.’ Matilda caught her breath and Henrick, clearly realising he’d just exposed a crime he needn’t have mentioned, was wishing he could turn back time. ‘I’m afraid I have bad news,’ Anik continued. ‘Five days ago, a body was found. I’m sorry to say that it was your daughter, Jessica.’ Matilda continued staring, seemingly frozen in time. Henrick just shook his head. ‘I’m afraid there’s been no mistake. It was Jessica.’
Anik opened a small A5 file and slid Jessica’s student travel card across the table towards her parents. The two sides of laminated plastic had come apart due to being submerged in the pond, and the colours of Jessica’s passport photo had blurred slightly. ‘It’s wet.’ Henrick’s voice was panicked. ‘Why is it wet? Did she drown?’ As soon as he said this, Matilda’s emotions finally burst free, and she began to cry loudly. As she fumbled in her shoulder bag for a handkerchief, Garritt tried to calm them in the language they knew best.
‘We will require a formal identification if you could possibly come to London,’ Anik continued after a short pause. He had done several death notifications in his years on Ridley’s team, but this was the first time he’d had to use an interpreter to help him. He felt awful that these parents were basically hearing about their dead daughter twice, getting the facts from Anik, and then clarification from Garritt. ‘Your daughter didn’t drown, sir. There was a fire. We don’t believe that Jessica suffered at all.’ Anik knew this was a lie, as the post-mortem had clearly identified smoke in Jessica’s lungs, meaning that she was alive as the fire raged around her. But Anik thought Mr and Mrs Chi were distressed enough without imagining that their daughter might have been burnt alive. ‘Mr Chi, when did you last see Jessica?’
Henrick couldn’t look Anik in the eyes. ‘Two months ago. In London. I, er... I’m no good with addresses. I could drive there from the ferry, completely from memory but, I can’t tell you...’ Anik assured Henrick that they had Jessica’s London address, but they didn’t know whether she had a second home in Amsterdam. ‘Jessica has a room in our apartment. Had.’ Anik glanced at Garritt, who asked the Chis, in Dutch, if they’d like to take a short break. Henrick shook his head and took a deep breath before continuing. ‘She had an on-off boyfriend. Adam, I think. He had a property here which she sometimes stayed at, but I don’t think he has it anymore. He was pleasant. Polite. I never saw his place, but the part of town it was in is good. So, we knew he had a good job and could look after Jessica. I’ve not seen him for almost a year.’ Henrick then asked Matilda to look through her address book and find the address for Adam. She snapped into action and obediently did as she was asked, seemingly relieved to have a task so she didn’t have to listen to the conversation.
‘Mr Chi... you thought I was here about a stolen painting. Rossetti’s Venus Verticordia.’ Henrick’s eyes quickly filled with tears once again, as the thought occurred to him that his silence over his daughter’s illegal art dealings might have contributed to her death. ‘I need you to help me now, please. By telling me everything you know.’
Henrick showed Anik several pictures of the painting in question on his mobile phone and repeated that he was certain Jessica had returned it after he warned her that it was genuine. He also insisted that, if the painting was stolen, Jessica had not been the one to steal it: she’d insisted that she’d been given it and he believed her. As the interview came to an end, Anik asked if he could see the bedroom in their apartment reserved for Jessica.
The scenic walk to the Chis’ apartment was marred by the awful conversation they’d just had. Anik had come to Amsterdam and shattered their lives into a thousand pieces... and he wasn’t done yet.
Jessica’s bedroom was an attic space with a balcony that provided a view of the docks. There were a few clothes and one pair of shoes in the single wardrobe, but nothing else. Jessica hadn’t stored anything personal there: no documents or personal effects, and the only two photos Anik found were both from childhood.
Back in the main area of the apartment, which looked and felt like an art studio, Anik had one more line of questioning to pursue before he could leave the Chis to their grief. ‘I’m sorry to ask you this, but do you know if Jessica was ever involved in drugs?’
Henrick seemed so emotionally drained that he couldn’t muster any feelings of offence. ‘She dabbled in cannabis, as is the way for many people in Amsterdam, young and old. She never took anything stronger, if that’s what you’re asking.’ Henrick handed Anik a piece of paper, with a handwritten address. ‘My wife has written down the address for Adam, but I’m sure he no longer owns it. I think now we’d like you to go, please.’
Anik was more than ready to leave. He told them that once they were ready to come to London to do the formal identification of Jessica’s body, they should contact Lieutenant Garritt and he’d help them. Garritt gave them a sincere smile that said ‘I’m here for you’ and they both left.
Garritt walked Anik towards his B&B in Zeeheldenbuurt, whilst reading the address written in shaky, grief-stricken handwriting by Matilda. ‘This apartment is on the way. From memory, I think the whole building is now being rented to the business sector.’
Garritt was right: the address was for a tall, narrow building with four floors and a roof terrace. The top apartment that had been occupied by Adam was now the temporary home of a German businessman in Amsterdam on a three-month training contract. He had no knowledge of any tenant who had been there before him. He was able to direct Anik and Garritt to the owner of the building, but all he could remember about Adam Border was that he was polite, quiet and lived in London for most of the year. Although he did assume that Adam was Dutch, because he spoke it fluently.
Once the short interview with the owner of Adam Border’s old place of residence was over, Garritt uttered one, incredibly welcome word: ‘Beer?’
Anik and Garritt sat at a small waterfront bistro table sipping cold beer and eating a giant pizza between them. Apart from compiling his notes, Anik had nothing to do and the rest of his evening was free, while Garritt’s only instruction from his boss had been to look after the English policeman. Then Anik made the mistake of turning his mobile back on. Dozens of messages and images pinged through from Laura, asking him to try and identify the uniform being worn by the unknown soldier. She’d provided names and addresses of training academies, army barracks and army hostels. And she’d been sure to mention that, although she was the one texting, the request had come from Ridley.
Chapter 20
Penny had been cooking since 2 p.m. The ingredients for the avocado and pear starter sat in a shady corner of the kitchen top, as they would be the last thing she prepared.
The meats were in the oven. Penny had added a lamb shoulder to the menu, as well as the chicken and beef, because she had a sachet of Moroccan lamb mix and some peppers that she wanted to use up with the leftovers. Penny did this all the time: she planned a week’s worth of meals, rather than cooking from day to day. This meant that she didn’t waste a single item of food and, each month, she saved Jack and Maggie a fortune on their shopping bill. She’d also swapped the planned treacle sponge for bread-and-butter pudding because the loaf in the fridge would shortly be ‘on the turn’.