Hard Rain Read Free Page A

silver-haired, dignified woman. "Katrien," the commissaris said, "don't you see? Willem wanted to show me how ruthless he was. He set me up. We were playing snooker one evening in the university café and he told me that Jacqueline would die that very night and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Willem had done his homework for once. A medical student gave him literature on arsenic. Jacqueline was the only member of her family who liked to eat porridge. Willem put the rat poison in a container she kept in the kitchen. He was supposed to be the future son-in-law and was free to wander about her parents' house. They trusted him; they didn't know their daughter was pregnant. Then Jacqueline got ill."
    "Willem intended her to-lose the baby?"
    "He intended her to die, Katrien."
    "Did she?"
    "No. I took the train to Paris that same night and found Jacqueline in very poor shape indeed. The family doctor didn't know what was wrong. The poor girl was dying by then. I told the doctor about the poison. She was rushed to the hospital and her stomach was pumped. She lost the baby but regained her health."
    "And the police?"
    "I was questioned," the commissaris said. "They wrote to Willem and ordered him to visit them, but he never did. There was no proof. The police had a weak case."
    They were waiting for the luggage. "So you won, Jan."
    "Yes," the commissaris said, "and I broke with Willem. From then on, I only saw him during class. Willem didn't go to too many lectures, but we graduated at the same time."
    "There are our bags," his wife said. "You missed them."
    "They'll come around again."
    "Did Willem graduate cum laude too?"
    "No," the commissaris said, "but he became an attorney, and in due course replaced his father as president and main shareholder of the Banque du Credit. He set up that Society for Help Abroad, which exploits illegal gambling clubs and drug joints for the young."
    "And keeps the profits," the commissaris's wife said. "I read that long magazine article to you about the Society. The gambling clubs are brothels, too. The journalist said he could prove that. Why don't you close the Society down?"
    The commissaris grabbed the bags. "I can't. Willem operates in a hole in the law. Nonprofit societies are protected. It's not my department, either. His bank is bad, too, and again outside my reach."
    "Fleur has a half-brother," his wife said. "Bart. We met Bart once. Baron Bart de la Faille. Maybe he has shares too."
    "All I remember is a little boy," the commissaris said, "a spoiled little brat, a late child by old de la Faille's second wife. She died of cancer. Watch the luggage, please, I'll go and find a cart."
    "And young IJsbreker must have had some shares," his wife said when he came back, "and he's dead." She walked ahead of her cart-pushing husband and called a cab. "Through the park, please," the commissaris told the driver.
    "Could you drive slowly?" the commissaris's wife asked. "We always enjoy the park so much, especially in the spring."
    "Turtle will be waiting for you in the garden," she said as she leaned into her husband's arm. "Look at the tall poplars, Jan, and the fresh leaves on the maples." The commissaris didn't answer. "Jan? Don't think of bad Willem. You're a good man with an excellent reputation. Everybody thinks highly of you. The children are doing well. I love you. Please enjoy the park."
    "Yes," the commissaris said. "Nice."
    "You won, Jan."
    "Yes." His small hand tapped her shoulder.
    "So enjoy."
    A heron sailed majestically across the road. "Yes," the commissaris said. "I do." He leaned over and kissed his wife's cheek.
    * The ranks of the Dutch Municipal Police are. in descending order, chief constable, commissaris, chief inspector, inspector, adjutant, sergeant, constable first class, constable.

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    "M ORNING," SERGEANT DE GIER SAID CHEERFULLY. He was a tall, wide-shouldered man, sprawled behind a dented metal desk in the far corner of a gray room. "Had a good