The Fourth Figure Read Free

some people’s pets were better off than people like himself. Breyne hesitated no longer. The police station was just around the corner, and the supermarket was open all day.
    As he scurried across the bridge, an emaciated female figure watched him from the fourth-floor window of her filthy apartment, opposite the place where the corpse bobbed up and down against the bank of the ditch.
    â€œThat’s good news about you and Frank, Guido. I’m happy for you,” said Van In, suppressing a yawn and stretching his legs and arms at one and the same time.
    Guido shared what was left of the rum between his own cup and Van In’s. He figured he’d earned the right to sin a little. But just as Saint Anthony managed to escape temptation at the very last minute, Guido alas was robbed of the opportunity to savor the rum-coffee combo. A phone call from the duty officer changed the course of the morning.
    Van In asked him a couple of questions and hung up. “Sorry, Guido, but I’m afraid our easy morning just croaked. They found a corpse in the Singel.”
    He crossed to the coat stand and put on his jacket. A siren wailed in the distance.
    At least seven vehicles were already parked at the Singel when Van In and Guido arrived: a federal police MPV, two fire service vehicles, a Renault Espace emergency trauma vehicle, Leo Vanmaele’s yellow Audi, the forensics team’s gray Ford, and the police physician’s BMW convertible. The locals were enjoying the spectacle from their window vantage points, exchanging noisy commentary. The emergency services’ ostentatious display led some to think they were in the middle of a US police series.
    â€œI just heard the public prosecutor’s on his way,” said Guido.
    Van In lit a cigarette and watched Leo take photos of the victim. The young woman was lying on a tarpaulin at the side of the road. She wore a black, short-sleeved blouse and jeans. A couple of firemen were setting up a screen to hide her from the curious.
    â€œThen you can bet your bottom dollar the press is on its way too,” Van In said, grumbling.
    â€œYou should have shaved.” Guido grinned.
    Van In shrugged. Journalists were only interested in magistrates these days. As soon as the prosecutor stepped out of his car, the cameras would be all over him. Van In had nothing to fear.
    â€œI wonder who called the federal boys.”
    â€œThey were tipped off before us, apparently,” said Guido.
    â€œI don’t get it. Breyne informed the local police, didn’t he?”
    Guido didn’t respond. It was a public secret that his boss wasn’t on the best of terms with the federal police. “D’you think it’s a suicide?”
    â€œWouldn’t be surprised,” said Van In. “Winter gets people down, and if we’re to believe the statistics, some people think that’s reason enough to end it all. Remember the guy who hung himself last year because he didn’t have enough money to buy a computer game for his son?”
    Van In bent his knees and slipped under the red-and-white tape that marked off the scene. A sergeant gave him a suspicious look and continued to cordon off the street while an officer Van In recognized as First Sergeant Cuylle was wrapped in animated conversation with a middle-aged woman, probably one of the local residents. Van In ignored the federal gendarmes and headed straight to Leo Vanmaele. The two friends greeted each other with a warm handshake.
    â€œI’ve done my bit,” said the diminutive police photographer. He unclipped the flash from his Nikon and stored his material in a sturdy aluminum case.
    â€œYou’re on the ball, Leo. This is the first time you beat us to it.”
    â€œTimes are changing, Pieter. Speed and efficiency are the buzzwords these days. Public opinion can be merciless.”
    Van In glanced at his watch. “But I still don’t get it. A crime was reported only