The Streetbird Read Free Page A

watching a lithe black cat, high on its legs, with a dainty small head.
    "Coming?" de Gier asked.
    "Yes."
    "What's with the cat?"
    Cardozo stroked the cat's back. "I saw her before, hanging around the corpse. Chased her away, as I thought she might lick the blood, but she came back and just sat there staring."
    "So?"
    "Bad luck."
    "Really," de Gier said. "Cats are never bad luck. Get into the station." He grabbed Cardozo by the arm and pushed him up the steps. A loud squeak made him look up. On a TV antenna poking out of the burned-out corner house's sagging roof sat a vulture. The bird wasn't particularly large but at least twice the size of a big crow. Its yellow claws were wrapped around the antenna's top bar and a sharply curved beak stuck out of its hairless gray head.
    Cardozo had gone. "I've lost my mind," the sergeant whispered. He waved at the bird. It rose slowly, flapping awkwardly. Gaining height, it flew easily, gliding low over the tiles, changing direction by effortlessly bending thin fingerlike feathers at the extreme ends of its wings.
    The ranks in the Amsterdam Municipal Police are constable, constable first class, sergeant, adjutant, inspector, chief inspector, commissaris, chief constable. An adjutant is a noncommissioned officer.

\\\\ 2 ////
    "N o," SAID THE COMMISSARIS' WIFE.
    The commissaris, holding his knife loosely and eyeing his boiled egg, looked up to smile. "The money, dear? You mean we lose the deposit at the travel agency? It isn't that much, and Austria will wait, its healing mud bubbling forever. I do think I will have another chance to soak my bones."
    "A waste."
    "You know," the commissaris said, "I don't really mind losing a bit of money now and then. Remember those mutual funds your brother talked us into? They've been going down ever since I bought them." He decapitated the egg fiercely and stabbed the contents with his spoon. "But what is money anyway? Paper printed with funny faces. One needs it, of course, for food and so on, but after a certain point one is done with it. Fortunately you never wanted fur coats or jewels, and the children are doing well. No, money ..."
    She got up and pushed the garden doors open. She turned. "Yes, money . . . It isn't that. I care about your health. Those baths have cured a lot of patients. If only you would take a rest and leave some work to others. The papers say that there are over three thousand policemen in the city. You're not really that important, are you, now?"
    "The chief inspector has a migraine."
    She arranged lettuce leaves on a dish. "Turtle?" The weeds below the steps moved and the small reptile showed its face. "Here, breakfast." She put the dish down and watched Turtle grab and chomp. "The chief inspector? I think he's faking again. And the inspector?"
    "He's learning Turkish. Now that we've caught all the unwanted Chinese and flown them back to Singapore and Hong Kong, we have Turks. Their heroin is even better, it seems. The inspector is doing good work."
    "And Grijpstra? I'm sure Grijpstra can deal with a pimp."
    He pushed his chair away from the table. "That was an excellent egg." He drained his cup. "And splendid tea." He stroked her back. "I'll have to go now, I think. Will you help me find suitable clothes?"
    She pushed silver hairs back into her bun. "No. You're trying to be smooth again. I know what you're up to. It's madness. I won't have any part of it." A tear dribbled down her cheek and she wiped at it impatiently. "You're old now, Jan, you've got to rest, the doctor keeps saying that. Do you really expect me to accept your getting into that filth? By yourself? How often have I sat up nights worrying about you, but then I knew that Grijpstra was with you, or de Gier, although he's crazy too. Where will you be? Floating around that lawless district? In a canal maybe?"
    He put his arm around her narrow shoulders and pushed his nose into her neck. "I'll phone you. This is Amsterdam, dear, I'll be nearby. I won't be in