The Fourth Figure Read Free Page A

ten minutes ago. The police station’s just around the corner and we drove here right away.”
    Leo lifted his aluminum case and draped its carrying strap over his shoulder. “Ten minutes?” he asked. “That’s strange. They called me on my beeper half an hour ago.”
    â€œJesus H. Christ.” Van In grimaced, suddenly realizing what was going on. Someone—probably the woman talking to the first sergeant—must have discovered the corpse earlier and called the competition in a moment of madness. “Now we have to work with those federal jerks.”
    â€œLooks like it,” said Guido. He winked at Leo, and they both burst out laughing.
    â€œCommissioner Van In, Special Investigations,” Van In introduced himself. “A word if you don’t mind, First Sergeant.”
    In spite of the fact that the police services had been reorganized and the ranks made uniform, Van In still used the old military titles. First Sergeant Cuylle’s official title was Inspector, First Class, and he disliked it as much as Van In did. Cuylle was familiar with the slovenly commissioner’s reputation and he limited himself to a surly nod.
    â€œAbout the investigation,” Van In added.
    â€œThe investigation’s in full swing, Commissioner, as you can see.”
    â€œOf course it is,” said Van In, his irritation level already beginning to rise. “I just wanted a quick word with that woman you were talking to.” He pointed in her direction. “Was she the one who called in the incident?”
    Cuylle reacted as a federal gendarme would be expected to react: according to the book. “The official report will be ready by tomorrow.”
    While First Sergeant Cuylle savored the taste of victory, Van In had the feeling someone was holding a burning candle under his bare feet. He had to work hard to keep his voice down. “May I remind you, First Sergeant, that I hold the rank of officer in the judicial police? As long as the gentlemen from the public prosecutor’s office are still here, I suggest you behave yourself.”
    While Van In vented his gall on the first sergeant, Guido ambled unnoticed to the place where the victim had been found. With all the commotion, just about everyone had forgotten that they had a dead woman on their hands. Even the firemen who had hauled the girl out of the water were having a smoke nearby. They’d done their job, just like the police physician who had filled in all the necessary forms and scurried off in his flashy convertible. Guido gazed at the motionless body and tried to imagine what the young woman had been thinking as the ice-cold water filled her lungs. Had she tried to save herself at the last minute or had she welcomed death like an old friend with open arms? The serene expression on her face, a common enough feature of suicides, suggested the latter. The unbearable lightness of being seemed to be claiming more and more victims with every passing day.
    Guido examined the place where he imagined the girl had entered the water. Two men from the forensics team had marked it off and were scouring the canal bank in a rubber dinghy. They had to presume evil intent until the suicide theory had been verified. When the men caught sight of Guido, they waved. They looked like they were freezing. Guido waved back, then turned and inspected the dead girl anew. Not much older than thirty, he figured. Her eyes were closed, supporting the illusion that she had died in peace. She was slim and her face wasn’t unpleasant. He discounted the strings of wet hair clinging to her cheeks, making her less attractive than she must have been when she was alive, and pictured a pair of bright and cheerful eyes behind her closed eyelids. It softened his judgment.
    Van In appeared at his side. First Sergeant Cuylle had yielded to his arguments. When the radio announced that the prosecutor wouldn’t be putting in a personal