The Good Thief’s Guide to Amsterdam (30 page)

“Nonsense,” Van Zandt spluttered, then turned to Riemer.
“Detective Inspector, I think you had better put an end to this
performance before I instruct my lawyer to sue the department.”

“Be quiet,” she said. “Let us hear what he has to say.”

“But it is slander.”

“Enough,” she barked. Then to me, she said, “Go on.”

“Diamonds are worth a lot of money,” I told her. “Everyone knows
that. And even the best security system in the world is fallible.
So what does a company like Van Zandt do to protect itself?”

“It takes out insurance,” Stuart said, the answer suddenly
occurring to him.

“That’s right,” I said. “In fact, it obtains a comprehensive
anti-theft policy.”

Just then, I realised how tired I was becoming of peering over
the shoulders of my two minders and so I patted the wide man and
the thin man on their arms, inviting them to retake their seats.
Burggrave was still sizing me up, fingers clenching and relaxing,
feet set shoulder-width apart, but he couldn’t do much with his
boss stood beside him and if it came to it, I still had the threat
of the gun in my hand anyway. I waited until the wide man and the
thin man were seated and made sure that Van Zandt squirmed under my
gaze before I resumed.

“Where was I?” I asked.

“Insurance,” Stuart repeated.

“Oh yes. Insurance. Well, as you can imagine, the premiums on an
anti-theft policy for a diamond business are huge. And as the head
of security, Mr. Van Zandt had to justify the expense. Well, what
better way to explain the cost away than by arranging for a theft?
And with a little careful paper management, he could claim for one
amount from the insurer and notify the board that a lower amount
had been recovered.”

“This is enough,” Van Zandt said, and forcefully pushed himself
up onto his feet. For a moment, he locked onto Burggrave’s eyes,
the two of them sharing some wordless communion. Then he turned and
began to hobble away.

“The difference would be used to line his own pocket,” I went
on, raising my voice so Van Zandt could still hear. “So you found a
likely guard, Mr. Van Zandt, and you offered him a bonus if he
contacted a local thief and arranged for a convenient burglary to
occur, didn’t you?”

Van Zandt ignored me and kept moving in the direction of the
exit.

“Isn’t that so, Mr. Van Zandt?”

He waved me away with his hand, head shaking, but he didn’t
pause. As it happened, that didn’t matter a great deal because with
a wordless jab of his thumb, the wide man signalled to his partner
and the two of them were off after the old man, covering the
distance to him in a matter of seconds and lifting him clean off
the floor by the elbows. Van Zandt struggled and kicked and
wheezed, his feet wind-milling in the air, but he didn’t have the
slightest chance of freeing himself. Within a matter of moments he
was pressed back into his seat and this time he was flanked by two
gentlemen who weren’t inclined to allow him to leave. Thankfully,
Detective Inspector Riemer didn’t see any reason to intervene. In
fact, she was the one who motioned for me to continue.

“But I had to wonder, how did you know which thief to approach?
And then I realised, that’s where Inspector Burggrave came in. He
was a thrusting young officer back then but all those crimes he was
solving had started people talking. Was he on the take? You
certainly thought so. My guess is you contacted Burggrave and the
two of you came to an arrangement and after that all the pieces
fell into their neat little places. The scam was set. Arrangements
were made for Louis Rijker to go missing for an hour or so. Perhaps
that was something the Inspector handled himself or perhaps he knew
a local thug who could apply the necessary pressure. However it
worked, though, on the given night Louis Rijker followed orders and
Robert Wolkers let our unsuspecting thieves into the warehouse and
watched over them while they set about their work. From there,
things panned out much as I’ve previously described except, of
course, for the aftermath.”

I paused, and paced from one side of the small semi-circle of
spectators I was stood inside to the other, my rubber soles tapping
softly against the concrete floor. I lifted the gun above my head
and waved it about, as if it were just an everyday prop that I was
using to trigger my mind. I didn’t, though, stand too close to
Burggrave because I still wasn’t sure what his reaction would be.
For the moment, he seemed to be waiting to hear more of what I had
to say, perhaps believing he could poke enough holes in my theory
to end the matter there and then.

“With the strong room empty and the gang long gone,” I carried
on, “Wolkers still had enough time before Rijker returned to report
the theft. First, he called his head of security and after that a
call went out to the local police force. Burggrave was the first to
respond, naturally. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’d been
waiting with Mr. Van Zandt just a short distance away. The two of
them would have met Wolkers, as pre-arranged, but unbeknown to the
guard, he’d become a major loose end by then. Perhaps Burggrave
told him he’d need to be tied up or knocked on the head to make
things look more plausible. Before all that though, he’d have to
remove his gun and hand it over. It wouldn’t do for Van Zandt to be
found arming its guards – it would almost certainly invalidate
their insurance.”

I cut away from the picture I’d been painting and looked from
Van Zandt to Burggrave. I tried to close out the image I’d glimpsed
of Kim sat between them, her face ghostly white, eyes shut tight
and teeth clamped together.

“I’m not certain which of you shot him,” I said, “but my guess
would be you Inspector Burggrave. Mr. Van Zandt saw himself as a
businessman so it’s possible he believed the pay off was enough to
keep Robert Wolkers mouth shut. Maybe he even had ideas of carrying
out the same scam again at some point further down the line. But it
was all too risky for you, Inspector – there was no way you could
bungle the investigation of such a daring robbery. So you killed
Robert Wolkers and after that you made your first serious
error.”

“Killing my father wasn’t enough?” Kim said, in a hollow
voice.

“Excuse me,” I told her, “you’re right. My phrasing was clumsy.
I should have said he made his first tactical mistake. You see, he
agreed to cover up the use of the gun altogether.”

I met Burggrave’s gaze and held it. I was right – I knew it –
but he still wasn’t giving anything away. Van Zandt could be broken
by a skilled investigator, I hadn’t the slightest doubt about that,
but Burggrave would present a real challenge. In this particular
arena I’d devised, he was like a prize fighter, a real old bruiser,
and it was beginning to feel like I could give him as many jabs as
I cared and he still might never go down.

“I’m sure that originally the Inspector would have planned to
ditch the gun, perhaps in one of your many canals, but for some
reason, most likely more money, he agreed to entrust its
destruction to Mr. Van Zandt. Once he’d handed over the gun, he
would have had just enough time left to put some finishing touches
to the scene before more officers arrived. Then, over the course of
the next twenty-four hours, he set about framing Michael for the
crime, even sprinkling a few diamonds that Mr. Van Zandt had held
back from the latest delivery around his apartment. It was amazing
how quickly he was onto the thief’s trail – made all the papers.
Only, it was less amazing when you knew how he’d got onto Michael
in the first place.”

Finally, Burggrave spoke. “I hope your books are many times
better than this,” he told me. Then he turned to Riemer and waved
his hand in the air. “It is an illusion. A fantasy.”

“I don’t think so. Although no doubt this gun can be the judge
of that,” I said, drawing everyone’s attention to the pistol in my
gloved hand once more.

“You could buy this gun anywhere,” Burggrave said.

“We’ll see,” I told him, and allowed myself a smile. I was still
enjoying how much it was irritating him when Kim interrupted
us.

“Tell me the rest,” she said, in a pleading voice. “I want to
hear it. There is more, yes?”

“A little,” I admitted. “Take Michael, for instance. He knew he
hadn’t killed anyone – in fact, he knew your father was still alive
when he left here. So he had to figure something was up, especially
when Burggrave found those cheap jewels in his home. But what could
he do? And besides, I happen to believe that somewhere in his head
he felt culpable for the murder in the way a less moral man might
not.”

Van Zandt made a snorting noise, as though the credibility of
what I was saying was being stretched ever thinner.

“You scoff,” I told him, “but I think it’s true. He might not
have pulled the trigger and he might always have denied being
guilty, but part of him still felt a sense of responsibility for
what happened here. I guess that’s because the job had smelt a
little off to him from the start. Maybe that had something to do
with why he did his time, but don’t be fooled into thinking he went
in blind. Michael was an intelligent man, Mr. Van Zandt. The top
thieves usually are. And all through that time he spent in prison
he was thinking about what had happened, putting the fragments of
what he knew together, weaving them into a greater overall
understanding. And when he got out, I think one of the first things
he did was he broke into your rather impressive home near the
Museum Plein. And do you know what I think he found? I think he
found that you hadn’t destroyed the gun at all – I think he found
that you’d simply hidden it in your house, though not particularly
well. Who knows why you held onto it? Perhaps you thought it might
give you something over the Inspector here. But keeping it turned
you into the foolish one. And as soon as Michael found it he must
have had an inkling that it could frame you or Burggrave for the
murder he’d gone down for. So he took it and a few days later he
left it in an apartment belonging to one of his former gang
members.”

“It makes no sense to me,” Riemer cut in. “Why would he not
bring the gun to the police?”

“The same police who’d framed him?”

“If that is what he believed, he could have found a different
officer, someone he felt he could trust.”

“Well now,” I told her, “I’m not sure that all of your
colleagues are as decent and noble as you Detective Inspector.”

She stared at me flatly.

“Will you give me the gun?” she asked.

I chewed on my lips and studied the piece of hardware at the end
of my arm. I was growing used to it; the stock was well crafted and
it felt snug in my hand. But I could see why Riemer might object to
me waving a gun about willy-nilly, especially if it had the
capacity to prove the things I said it could. I turned to Burggrave
and gestured at him with it.

“You won’t mind, I assume,” I told him.

“Of course not,” he said, rather stiffly.

“Well then I don’t see why I shouldn’t hand it over to you
Detective Inspector Riemer. You are wearing gloves, I see.”

I offered the gun to her and she snatched it from my
outstretched hand, releasing the cylinder and emptying it of
bullets. Then she returned the cylinder to its housing with a flick
of her wrist and slipped the gun into one of her coat pockets.

“And the other one,” she said.

“I don’t see why not,” I told her, and motioned for her to go
ahead and pick up the gun Karine Rijker had removed from her
handbag.

Riemer stepped forwards and gathered the pistol, going through
the same process to check it was empty, then slipping it into
another of her coat pockets.

“You will remember which is which, I take it.”

“You have finished your story?” she asked.

“Calling it a story’s a little pejorative in the circumstances,
don’t you think? And I’m afraid there’s just the small matter of
more recent events to clear up, if you can bear with me.”

“I’m listening.”

“Good. Well, your colleague here, Inspector Burggrave,” I said,
acknowledging the tensed figure to my right, “would have spent a
lot of time over the twelve years Michael was in prison thinking
about all those diamonds Michael got away with. They had to be
hidden somewhere and if he could just get his hands on them their
value would dwarf whatever money he’d been paid by Van Zandt. Of
course,” I said, gesturing to my newest guardian angels, who were
still flanking the old man, “he couldn’t exactly go investigating
these two gentlemen in case things didn’t tie up as neatly as they
had done before. But perhaps he could still work some avenues, ask
a few contacts in the prison system to see if Michael ever let
anything slip. Michael never did, he was careful, but talk got
around about a small monkey figurine he kept in his cell. Maybe
Burggrave knew what that meant right away – after all, I get the
impression he’d made plenty of money over the years that he
couldn’t exactly pay into his current account – but even if he did,
he couldn’t do anything without all three keys. The Chinatown
facility doesn’t exactly yield to police jurisdiction, especially
not when the officer who wants to look inside their strong boxes
doesn’t want anyone on the force to know about it. And Burggrave
couldn’t get access to Michael’s figurine inside the prison system.
It was ironic really – Michael found the most secure place in the
world to keep his key.”

I smirked at Burggrave and shrugged my shoulders in a showy way,
wanting to rile him that bit more. I could tell from his expression
and the way he was trembling very slightly that if we were on our
own right now, I would be in trouble.

“So what were you left with? Well, you had twelve years of
corrupt policing business to take care of and, at the end of that
time, Michael was released. From that point on, I imagine you kept
him under watch, following him around the city, finding the bed-sit
he was holed up in, noting the details of the young girl he seemed
to be seeing. You would have gone on like that, watching him
endlessly, obsessively even, until one night, you would have seen
Michael having dinner at Café de Burg with the exact same men he’d
stolen those diamonds with in the first place. I can’t know exactly
what happened, I admit, but it doesn’t seem beyond the realms of
possibility that you would have seen the group of them leave and
followed them back to Michael’s apartment. You would have seen them
go into Michael’s building and you would have seen these two
gentlemen come out shortly afterwards and I guess you might well
have decided that this was it, that if you didn’t act now you’d
miss your chance forever.”