Читать книгу Julia Menken - Chantal van Mierlo - Страница 4

It was far too late. She literally felt drunk with fatigue. But still: whatever Rich wanted to show her couldn’t wait.

“This is starting to feel like a scene from some sort of horror film,” Julia said to Rich when she entered his office. The porter had let her in and even though she only needed to go down a couple of flights of stairs to get to him, she felt her heart in her throat. She told herself this was mainly down to sheer tiredness. The offices were all shrouded in darkness, with the exception of a few slumber lights. The deathly silence in particular was making her feel very ill at ease.

Rich laughed. “Come on, it’s the same as always, just a little darker.” He held a bag of M&M’s out in front of her. “Fancy any?”

“No, thank you.” She wouldn’t even have been in the mood for chocolate if it hadn’t been the middle of the night. “What did you want to show me?”

He leaned forward and threw the yellow bag onto his desk. “I want to release his body in the morning, but there are a few things worth noting.”

“Did you call Diego?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“I can’t just do this on my own, Diego is in charge of this investigation. My role is merely one of an advisor.” She doubted whether Diego would be coming all the way over here from Arnhem tonight, but informing him first would have been the right thing to do.

“Then you report to him in the morning, he can call me if there’s an issue.” He handed over some protective clothing and a face mask. “Put this on, then we’ll go and take a look.”

He pressed a few buttons on a sound system at the door before entering the autopsy room. Music started blaring through the room.

“Why do you always play Mozart?”

He looked at her and laughed. “Because I never listen to classical music.”

She followed him whilst frowning. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“The things I see here on a daily basis,” he gestured around the room with his hand, “it’s pretty hard core. Here I am Doctor Richard Galvez, child pathologist. But when I eventually go home I need to leave everything behind, otherwise I would literally never sleep again. All the misery stays with Mozart, this is another world.” He gestures all around him. “I leave this world behind once I step outside. The switch is flicked when the music goes off. Then I’m simply Rich again.”

She nodded, but her thoughts were off in a different direction altogether: Brian was laid out on the table, right in the centre of the room in the glow of the bright swivel lamp which made his skin look like grey marble.

“Look,” Rich said and pointed at the stomach, just above the fleshy wound near the pubic bone. “This is a Pfannenstiel incision. Or rather a bikini cut.”

“You mean like the opening made with a Caesarean section?”

“Exactly. I initially thought the cut had been accidental, possibly done when the perpetrator had been removing the genitalia, but it actually goes right through the tissue. Very precisely done.”

“By a doctor?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“What could the perpetrator possibly want with that?”

“The fact is that he wanted to open up an abdominal cavity. I don’t have a theory for it, that’s your job. But I do think it’s quite striking, especially combined with the removed gluteal muscle.”

“Oh come on, Rich. You wouldn’t have asked me to come down here if you didn’t suspect something. Why do you think he’s done this? Help me out here.”

“Of course anyone can see it’s rather a big mess down there and it’s therefore difficult to establish whether or not he has been abused. But it’s possible that someone wanted to take something out of him.”

“Something out of him?”

“Suppose there was an object stuck in his rectum. Something that had to come out. You can’t get to it from the outside. Removing the gluteal muscles, combined with the cut at the front, would allow you to push something out of the bowels. Like you’re squeezing a tube.”

“How bizarre. Why would someone want to do that?”

“No idea. My mind isn’t sick enough to come up with a watertight explanation for any of this, but some evidence of abuse could have been left behind in the bowel, which needed to come out.”

“An object which could help identify the perpetrator.” She massaged her temples. No. This was all moving way too fast. She shouldn’t be drawing any hasty conclusions, otherwise she’d be in danger of missing important clues.

“I’ll be including it in my considerations.” She breathed in deep. “Do you think there is any other possible explanation?”

“He wanted to remove an organ from the abdominal cavity.”

“But nothing’s missing.

Rich nodded. “That’s right. All organs are still there.”

“Did you find any traces of sperm?

“No.”

“Can you possibly have another very specific look for traces of abuse? Including things which could have happened less recently?”

He nodded.

*

She had really only just gone to bed when she got up the next morning. She had got into the car without coffee and driven to Arnhem. She arrived before seven thirty, as she wanted to make sure Diego was informed about Rich’s findings before he got to work.

Four hours sleep really wasn’t enough. She massaged the muscles in her shoulders and pushed two paracetamols out of the strip and washed them down with a big gulp of water. She really had to get rid of that headache, otherwise she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. She returned the bottle of water to the centre console, grabbed her bag and got out of the car. From the corner of her eye she could see Diego walking towards her alongside another man. She had to speak to Diego before Rich called him. He was in charge of the investigation and he certainly shouldn’t be feeling bypassed.

She raised her hand by way of a greeting and walked over to him. Fortunately the other guy shot off when he saw her. The man had tight little curls which were pressed against his forehead with gel. The smell of aftershave was burning inside Julia’s nose.

Diego rubbed his forehead. “I feel like I’m going mad. The press. Even at half past seven in the morning they are right there.”

So Diego knew this man, a journalist by the sounds of it. The press. Always the press. Journalists were rude enough to disrupt police work, anything for a scoop.

She thought about Nele.

Five years and three months ago.

The press had never left her alone during the investigation into Nele’s disappearance either. When it became apparent the case had gone horribly wrong, they had done everything they could to name and shame Julia.

They entered the building in silence. She had to tell Diego about her nocturnal visit to the child pathologist, but she didn’t know where to start. She walked through the corridors towards their office with him.

“Can you join me in my office for a chat for a moment?”

She nodded.

“I’ll go and get some coffee.”

“No, thank you. I’ve got my own coffee.”

He raised one eyebrow and turned around.

She walked over to her desk and put her bag down. She felt shivery, as if though she was coming down with something. She was just incredibly tired. The only thing which helped was to simply keep going, try to get through the day without collapsing.

She filled her coffee machine with mineral water and shut the filter holder. There was no other way. She couldn’t afford any more rest whilst the perpetrator was still a free man.

“I want you to come with me to De Baan,” Diego said when she entered his office. The room was slightly more spacious than the room occupied by Justus and his partner, with a round meeting table and a metal cabinet pushed against the wall. “It’s a care zone at the industrial estate where prostitution is tolerated. We’re going over there to talk to a social worker. He has set up a project with the prostitutes, perhaps he can tell us a little more.”

She nodded. “Rich called me last night. I drove down there. He found some injuries which are difficult to explain. You’ve probably already got the report in your mailbox.”

“What kind of injuries?”

“The victim had a cut in his abdominal wall which looked very professional, like an incision used for c-sections.”

“And what does that tell us?”

“Combined with that missing gluteal muscle, it could mean that the perpetrator pushed an object out of the rectum.”

Diego didn’t say anything for a moment, the look on his face reflected the aversion she had felt when Rich had told her. “So abuse after all?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t found any further evidence of this. There is literally nothing logical about this case.” She massaged her temples, it felt like her head was wrapped in cotton wool. She had taken half a Seresta last night, which probably hadn’t been a good idea, as she couldn’t get rid of that drowsy feeling, despite the coffee. But going to bed without a sleeping tablet had been unthinkable after her visit to the autopsy room. She drank the rest of her lukewarm coffee in one gulp and told herself to get straight on with a second dose of caffeine as soon as she was back in her own office.

“Here it is.” He pointed at his screen and clicked on the document Rich had sent him. “Right. I’ll take that with me to today’s meeting.”

She knocked on Rens’ door on her way back to her office. He shared his room with two colleagues. Rens greeted her with a smile. He appeared to be the only one who accepted her presence without prejudice.

“Have you managed to find anything else?” she asked.

“I don’t think that laptop has ever been used. The last signal from his phone was from the Rietgrachtstraat, the place where he was found.”

“But the phone itself hasn’t been found.”

“No, the perpetrator probably switched it off and took it with him. I think he must have removed the battery. Then it doesn’t leave behind any trace.”

This was important information for her profile. Another piece of evidence which served as proof the perpetrator knew exactly what he was doing.

*

It was warm in the meeting room. She tried to concentrate on Diego’s words, who was explaining what was in Rich’s report to the rest of the team, but her thoughts constantly wandered off. She needed to call Daniel, she hadn’t spoken to him for two days, as she was getting home and leaving again whilst he was sleeping.

“What progress have you made, Justus?” Diego asked.

“We still have a few gaps to fill, but we are trying to put together a reconstruction of Brian’s day. He had complained of back pain following a fall out of a tree. He had called his dad in the morning to say he couldn’t go to school. His dad convinced him to go in anyway and to go and see the GP after school. He hadn’t made an appointment, but we are working on the assumption he had planned to go.”

“Why are we assuming that?” Julia asked.

This resulted in a contemptuous look from Justus, who ignored her question and continued with his story. “He had arranged to meet up with his friend Boris before school. They smoked a few cigarettes together.”

“Was this a school friend?” she asked.

“No, he is one of the neighbours’ lads. Brian then went off to school, but he got there too late, didn’t arrive until the second lesson.”

“Did the school notify his dad of his absence?”

“Yes, they spoke to him and he subsequently called him on his mobile, but at that point he had already arrived at school and was waiting for the second lesson to start. He told his dad he’d missed the bus. His last lesson of the day was PE and he had asked his teacher if he could go because his back was bothering him so much,” Justus said.

“So that could have been something else too,” Julia noted. “This pain could have been caused by an object stuck in his bowels.”

“Boris, the victim’s friend, told us he and Brian had been throwing stones the previous day and that Brian had been hit,” Justus said.

Julia wrote it down. It sounded like boys mucking around, but it still didn’t sit easy with her. Her line of work meant she was all too familiar with the statistics. It was very typical of petty criminals: they simply rolled into it as children because of a lack of supervision, boredom and the absence of any clear future vision.

She tried to imagine what Brian’s life must have been like: his dad was never at home, his mum had passed away at a time in his life when he had still desperately needed her. Brian certainly hadn’t had a warm nest.

“He wasn’t allowed to go home early, but he didn’t participate with the PE lesson either. A classmate saw him get on the bus after school and said he, as always, sat down on the back seat and played with his mobile,” Justus said.

“Did the door to door enquiries result in anything?” Diego asked.

“A witness came forward who saw him sitting on a bench, at the intersection of the Rietgrachtstraat and the Westervoortsedijk. The witness thought he looked like he was waiting for someone.”

“That is very odd.”

“Yes, especially as he had been planning on going to the doctor’s surgery and that’s somewhere completely different. The surgery is a nine hundred meter walk from his home.”

“So how on earth did he end up in the Rietgrachtstraat?” Julia asked. The crime scene was nowhere near where Brian had been planning on going. What had he been involved with, what had he planned on doing that afternoon? Had someone wrongly made him believe they could be trusted, perhaps offered a sympathetic ear for his problems? Had he been looking for affection and had ended up in the arms of a paedophile?

“It looks like he himself had taken the initiative to go there. He got on the bus after school and didn’t need to change over anywhere. That bus would have near enough taken him to his front door. Plus he could have got off one stop earlier if he had wanted to go and see the doctor.”

“But he never arrived there,” Julia noted.

“It looks like he got off the bus much before this and then walked across to the Rietgrachtstraat, or someone took him there,” Justus said.

“Does anyone know where he got off? Surely that must be something we can find out.”

“We thought so too, but he got off without checking out.”

“There is a second witness, a woman with a dog. She walked past him and he took a moment to stroke her dog. He was still on his own at this point. She said she saw two men with him when she looked around a little later on.”

“Any descriptions?” Diego asked.

“No, she only saw them from a distance, so no clear description unfortunately.” Justus looked around the room, his face not giving any emotion away.

“No other witnesses?” Diego asked.

Justus shook his head. “That’s all we’ve got for the time being. He was found by a couple of boys walking home from school at around 15.30 hours.”

*

She breathed in the fresh air, which smelt of the approaching autumn after this morning’s heavy downpour. Wet, light coloured leaves from the maple trees were stuck on the concrete tiles. She had really only been planning on briefly popping out for a breath of fresh air, but the dreary sight of the courtyard had made her decide to go for a little stroll towards the park.

She retrieved her phone from her bag and called Daniel. It went straight through to his voicemail. It was around midday: he should be on his way home. Perhaps he was in the car. She left him a message and then opted for her doctor’s number. The assistant’s cheery voice instantly irritated her.

“I’m calling about a repeat prescription.” She gave her name and date of birth.

“Which medicine is it for, madam?”

“Seresta.”

“OK, one moment please.” The assistant put her on hold, forcing her to listen to a mechanical sounding tune. She had a nagging headache behind her eyes and she told herself she would go home early today.

“Are you still there?”

Julia mumbled something.

“Doctor van Bernhove would like to briefly see you before issuing a repeat prescription.”

She sighed. Of course that was to be expected after their last conversation. They had a slot available at half past five. She put the phone back in her bag and took out a packet of cigarettes. She had bought them at the petrol station yesterday. Smoking was always a point of discussion between herself and Daniel. She had actually stopped years ago, but she needed the nicotine right now. She took a first drag and felt the tension slip away. She smoked her cigarette in peace and then walked back to the office.

She had only just sat back behind her laptop again when Justus put his head around the door.

“Can you come to the interview room? Gert Huisman is here, Brian’s dad.”

She grabbed her pen and notebook and walked across to the interview room, where she found Diego sitting opposite Brian’s dad. Mr Huisman was huddled together, like his grief was pressing down on his shoulders like a huge weight.

“Your son wanted to go to the doctor, but ended up at the Rietgrachtstraat. What was he doing there?”

The man shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he said softly and stared at his hands.

“Did you speak to him that day?”

“I spoke to him on the phone in the morning and sent him a message in the afternoon to ask how he got on at the doctor’s, but he didn’t reply. I had been out in the taxi since seven o’clock that morning and after my shift I had gone straight to the factory.”

“Is that a normal daily routine for you?”

“It’s normal for me four days a week. I work alternating shifts and can effectively combine the two jobs.”

“And Brian was on his own on the days you drove your taxi?”

He looked up with tears in his eyes. “He was very independent. He seemed much older than he actually was. I thought it was OK. We needed the money.”

“Of course, I completely understand sir. It wasn’t an accusation, we’re just doing our best to reconstruct what Brian did that day as precisely as possible. It really helps us to know what his usual day-to-day life looked like,” Diego said.

“Did you give Brian lots of money?” Julia asked.

“I gave him a tenner pocket money a week. And he bought his own clothes, so that would have been another 50 euro a month for that.”

She was thinking about the branded clothing she had seen in his wardrobe and the brand new laptop. Individually those sweaters were worth more than Brian’s monthly budget.

“And did you ever give him expensive gifts?” she asked.

“No, ma’am, I can’t afford to.”

“But you have two jobs.”

He briefly looked at her with a hard look in his eyes and then lowered his head again. “I’m not proud of it.” He was fiddling with his hands. “I have debts to pay off. I had a hard time after Marlina’s death and I did some stupid things.”

Marlina. The blonde woman on the photographs. Diego had told her she had committed suicide. Julia sat up straight and exchanged a look with Diego, who shrugged his shoulders almost completely imperceptibly.

“I started gambling. Simply to give myself something else to think about. I don’t do that anymore. I stopped, but I still have some debts left to pay off.”

“Who do you owe money to?” Diego asked.

“Just with the bank.”

Julia listened to Diego finishing off the conversation, after which Gert Huisman was guided back outside again.

They both sat in silence for a while, completely absorbed in thought. Julia went through Brian’s dad’s answers again in her head. She thought about his demeanour during the interview. Intensely sad, but there was more.

“That man is not telling us everything,” she said. “Brian’s room was full of expensive things. Something’s not right.”

“Yes, I got that impression too,” Diego said.

“What do we know about the mum’s suicide?”

“Nothing yet. I’ve left that with Justus.”

“Didn’t they take statements from his friends too?”

“They visited all of his classmates. That lad, Boris, he came to the police station with his mum on his own accord yesterday,” Diego said.

“The throwing stones one.”

“Yes, he also confirmed Brian didn’t have any friends apart from him. I still find that rather odd.”

“I don’t know. I get the impression Brian has been through an awful lot over the last few years. A mother who decided to kill herself, a father who couldn’t deal with any of it and decided to gamble away his money. And all the while he was left to his own devices, with all of his grief,” Julia said.

“You don’t know that. He may well have had a really good relationship with his dad.”

“Yes, I know theoretically that’s perfectly possible, but listening to Mr Huisman, I think he was more focussed on his own problems.”

*

She had to go via the GP for her prescription on the way home. She had sat down in the chair opposite Dr Van Bernhove with clammy hands. He had been her GP since she had moved to Gouda eight years ago. He knew her entire history, including all the ugly phases of the last few years.

“You want some sleep medication?” he asked and looked at her over his reading glasses. There was no point lying to Van Bernhove, he knew her too well. She’d had more faith in him then all the psychologists she had spoken to.

“I can’t quite do without just yet.”

“But we had agreed you were going to wean off them, right?”

She nodded and stared at her hands, which lay folded in her lap. Why was this so damned hard? Surely he could just write her a piece of paper which she could take down to the pharmacy? Like she couldn’t get it from elsewhere if he didn’t prescribe them for her.

“I’m working on a case. Another child murder.” She stared out of the window. “It’s brought an awful lot back again and the nightmares have returned too. I can’t get to sleep without help. And I can’t function without sleep.”

“Mrs Menken, I can continue prescribing those tablets for you, but you know as well as I do that this ultimately won’t solve the problem. What does your psychiatrist say?”

“I haven’t been to see him for quite some time.”

“Shall we agree that I prescribe you a small amount of tablets, but that you make an appointment with the psychiatrist?”

She nodded.

*

She went straight to the pharmacy from the GP practice. She had corrected the prescription with a black pen. She needed more tablets. She added Provigil too, tablets which would help her to get rid of the subsequent dullness. She didn’t have a choice in this situation. She told herself she would stop as soon as this case was done and dusted. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she didn’t have time to go and see the psychiatrist. Plus those conversations generally just made her feel worse and she really couldn’t be doing with that right now, she was having a hard enough time keeping her head above water as it was.

She got back home before six o’clock. She could see a small figure running through the living room through the large window. Mees. She couldn’t wait to have a cuddle with him and listen to all of his stories about today’s events. She quickly went in and threw her handbag down near the coat rack. She could hear Evi’s high-pitched little voice, followed by a burst of laughter. She couldn’t help but smile.

“Mummy.” Mees came running over to her. “We were allowed to have a burger and fries today,” he said with a beaming smile on his face.

The television volume was on low, but Evi was completely fixated on the brightly coloured figures jumping about on the screen. Julia called her name. Evi got up and made her way over to Julia, only wearing a little T-shirt and a nappy which was hanging down by her knees. She grabbed Julia’s face with her chubby little hands and splatted a wet kiss right on her nose. Julia took off the nappy and the smell or urine penetrated her nose. She pushed the fat nappy into the bin and let her walk around with nothing on for the minute.

“Everything alright over here?” she asked.

Daniel was lying right across the sofa, with his iPad on his lap. He didn’t even look up. She walked over to him and bent down to give him a kiss.

“Something wrong?” She sat down with him, on the edge of the sofa. Evi tried to hoist herself up on her leg. “Daniel?”

He sat up and gave her an irritated look. “Everything’s fine.”

“Are we going to have dinner together?”

“The kids had a McDonalds and I had a sandwich. As you didn’t come home the last two days when I had cooked, I decided not to bother today.”

“No problem, I’ll make myself a sandwich.”

She wanted to put her hand through his hair, but he pushed her hand away and got up. Evi had now successfully managed to climb onto her lap and tried to get her attention with as much noise as she could possibly muster up. She carefully put her back down on the floor and followed Daniel, who had disappeared towards the hallway. She closed the kitchen door behind her and left Evi crying on the other side.

“Daniel. I’ve been assigned a really difficult case.”

He was facing away from her and didn’t react.

“A boy was murdered in Arnhem. A teenager. I have been asked to create a profile of the perpetrator and that’s no easy task. Plus time is of the essence, as the guy is still walking around freely.”

“They’re always still walking around freely when they first involve you.”

“It’s different this time. This is a brand new case. The perpetrator can strike again at any moment. I would have preferred not to take this case on myself, but I didn’t have any say in the matter. It would be nice if you could support me.”

He gave her a contemptuous snort and walked up the stairs. “I’m tired. I’m off to bed.”

She stood at the bottom of the stairs with her fists clenched, watched how he walked across the landing and slammed the bedroom door shut behind him. Why couldn’t he bring up the tiniest bit of understanding for her? Everything was about him and his problems, whilst she had been trying to juggle her work and the family for almost two years, everything just to try and protect his delicate little existence. And the one time she needed him, he had decided he couldn’t be bothered.

She opened the door, picked up the crying toddler and gave her a huge hug. “Room for a little dessert?” she whispered in Evi’s ear. The mood instantly changed and she smiled at her through the tears with her beautiful big eyes. “Mees, would you like a yoghurt too?”

Mees turned off the television and sat down at the table. “Where’s daddy gone?”

“He’s gone for a lie down. He’s tired.”

“Where have you been, mummy?”

“I had to work, sweetheart. I’m helping the police to catch a bad guy.” Mees was starting to understand what her work was all about and it was therefore also becoming increasingly harder to flower up what she did. But she didn’t want him to know what she was dealing with on a day to day basis. His innocence had to remain intact for just a little bit longer.

“I didn’t like you not being here. I missed you,” he said in between big mouthfuls of yoghurt.

She grabbed a cloth from the kitchen to mop up the almighty mess Evi was creating on the table. “I know. And I missed you too.” She put her hand through his blonde curls and kissed his forehead. “Do you want to do something fun this weekend?”

His eyes instantly brightened up.

“How about the zoo, or something like that?”

He started rocking on his chair from pure excitement.

*

Daniel didn’t come back down the stairs until the children had gone to bed. This had given her the opportunity to think about their argument. She had allowed herself to be swallowed up by her work over the past few days. Of course she completely understood it wasn’t easy for him either. But she couldn’t see how she could possibly change the situation in the short-term. She had no choice but to focus on her work 100% for as long as Daniel was only working half days. After all, they were financially dependent on her income. She would tell Daniel about the pressure Karel had put on her. She would make another attempt to tell him about Brian. But all of this was no excuse. There was no way she could let her work come in between her and her family. And that’s exactly what she was doing. To seek justice for a boy she had never even known. Whilst Daniel and the children were waiting for her here. They also needed their mother.

“You stink of cigarettes,” Daniel went on the attack before she’d had the chance to say anything. “I thought you had stopped.”

She took in a deep breath. Fantastic reconciliation attempt so far. She didn’t owe him any explanation. “I’m not a child, Daniel.”

“Is that how this is going to go?” He stood in front of her with clenched fists.

“Jesus Christ, act normal, would you? I’ve got quite enough on my plate at the moment.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that. You’re simply forgetting about us.”

“I called you today.”

“You were wondering how I was doing after two days. Two days, Jules.”

“And you couldn’t have called me?”

“I did on the first day, but you didn’t even bother calling me back. Of course you don’t need to worry about a thing, I’m that idiot who’s at home looking after the kids anyway.”

“You are their father.”

“Yes and my life is limited to that single role. You get back home in the middle of the night and leave for work again without even saying where you’re going. I don’t even know where you’re working, as your colleagues in Zoetermeer told me you had been seconded somewhere. Do you know what that felt like, Jules? I felt so stupid I didn’t even dare ask them where you were. Has it ever crossed your mind that you’re needed here, Julia? That you’re a mother too?”

“Goddammit, Daniel. Could you sink any lower? Of course I know I’m a mum too, but I have to earn a living too.”

“And that’s obviously not something I can do.”

She saw the tears glistening in his eyes. What was all this about? Certainly not about the fact she was working long days.

“Don’t you think I’m fed up with all of this? I’m just sitting here, I can’t get anything done.” He collapsed onto one of the kitchen chairs. “I am a worthless arsehole.”

“Daniel.” The feeling of guilt was weighing down heavy on her. She walked over to him, put her arms around him and pulled him into her. He buried his face into her tummy and started to sob. She tried to find the right words to comfort him, but she couldn’t think what to say.

*

Brian had been dead for a week and they weren’t any closer to catching the perpetrator. Julia was walking behind Diego, they had an appointment with the social worker who worked with the prostitutes in the care zone. It was early in the afternoon and the autumn sun had drenched the derelict plots around De Baan in a golden light.

There was a grey container in front of them which served as a ‘living room’. Diego had explained that the prostitutes were given the opportunity to go there and warm up during the winter months. It was surrounded by a fence. A drive next to the container led to the workplaces, white partitions between which the clients could park their cars and enjoy a cheap bonk.

A man came outside and opened up the gate. She quietly took in the social worker and let Diego do the talking. He introduced himself as Damian Koenders and extended a limp hand out to them. His arms were heavily tattooed: faded, unsteady lines had disfigured his skin right up to his wrists.

They followed him inside. The walls were bare, but the floors were carpeted and there was a sofa and a television. The other side was home to a small kitchenette and a large dining table. The lights on the ceiling gave the room a chilly look, but she suspected this was the cosiest room the prostitutes would normally spend time in. Diego had briefly told her about the project Damian had set up here whilst they were driving over, how the city of Arnhem had tried to restrict street prostitution. Julia had imagined Damian to be quite a young person, but he was actually nearing fifty or so.

“This is our living room,” he gestured around him, “the ladies are always welcome here. It’s particularly popular during the winter months. There’s no one here at the moment, as they have obviously cottoned onto the fact you guys are from the police.” He pushed his greasy grey hair out of his face.

She listened to Damian’s story about the access passes and Arnhem’s phase-out policy. In the meantime she tried to take in every detail about him. He was a man from the streets, undoubtedly the main reason why these prostitutes accepted help from him.

“Women are still venturing out onto the streets. The Rietgrachtstraat is only two kilometres from here and yet prostitution is still going on there too. Why would women choose that location over this one?” she asked.

He sat down at the table, decorated with a vase holding some faded plastic flowers. “That’s the problem with those damned passes. They can’t get onto De Baan and that’s why they decide to go elsewhere. I have been pleading for new prostitutes to be admitted for years. They are simply moving the problem. I regularly visit the Rietgrachtstraat and tell the women about our living room and the outpatients clinic. At least they know where to go. There’s nothing more we can do.”

“And this lad, did you know him?”

He stroked Brian’s photograph with his finger and stared at it for a little while. “Your colleague already asked me that. Sorry. I’ve never seen him before.”

*

They mostly spent the drive back to the station in silence. Julia couldn’t get over the fact that so much prostitution was going on right under the police’s noses. Street prostitution attracted all kinds of scum. She thought of Brian. Had he simply been at the wrong place at the wrong time? Had he fallen victim to some sort of pervert he had happened to come across? No. Because in that case it would have been an impulsive act and all the traces in this case were contradicting that.

“Why don’t you guys do anything about the prostitutes in the Rietgrachtstraat?”

“It isn’t quite that simple.”

“Prostitution is forbidden. Why don’t the police take the appropriate action and empty out that street?”

“The problem is that those girls will be back outside again after a few days and they will need money for their stuff again. It’s a vicious circle. Most of them never escape.”

“How dangerous is it over there?”

“Difficult to say. You won’t notice anything out of the ordinary in that neighbourhood if you don’t know where you’re going. It’s a twilight environment, a type of parallel world. And there isn’t enough protection over there. Most of the prostitutes work without a pimp and will do anything to be able to pay for their next shot. That’s when you end up with violent crimes: abuse, rape, it all happens far too regularly. And the crimes which are actually reported are just the tip of the iceberg, as most women keep their mouths shut.”

“What do you think about that Damian?” she asked. She hadn’t been quite sure what to think during the conversation. “He knows that world inside out, could he have anything to do with it?”

“That thought had crossed my mind too. Justus has already looked into it. He’s got a waterproof alibi.” He stopped for some traffic lights. “You hungry?”

It took a moment for Diego’s words to register. “Sorry?”

“My wife’s got dinner ready. Let’s go and have a bite to eat, shall we?”

She hesitated. She had to work this out in her head, whilst it was all still fresh in her memory. It would undoubtedly be another late night if she went with Diego now. But on the other hand, she wouldn’t get home until gone eight o’clock even without a break and the thought of Daniel’s indifferent looks had made damned sure she wasn’t exactly looking forward to that.

“That would be great, thank you.”

*

Diego lived in one of Arnhem’s suburbs, along a dike. Next to the driveway were some large apple trees in a meadow, where two Shetland ponies were lazily staring at them.

Diego saw her look. “Those are Abby’s, my daughter. She’s absolutely mad about horses.”

She followed him round the back. There was a garden with open views across the fields behind the house. There were perfectly round boxwood bulbs and a rose arch which, despite the time of year, was covered in soft yellow flowers. The air was heavy with the smell of roses, the last time she had smelt that was when she had visited her grandma in Germany. Someone had to be spending quite a few hours in this garden in order to keep it looking this perfect.

“What a beautiful place. Have you employed a whole army of gardeners?” she laughed.

“Only my wife. The garden is her hobby and she will devote every spare second to it.” He opened the door and let her go in first. She entered the house via a tiled utility room which smelt of detergent and the moist air from the condenser dryer. Diego walked ahead of her into the kitchen and gave his wife a hug.

“This is Julia, she’s going to have some dinner with us this evening.”

Julia extended her hand to her, but the busty woman ignored it and pulled her in for a hug. “I’m Janet. Great to meet you. You’re that profiler, right? Diego has told me all about you.” Janet turned around to go back to her pans. “Have you guys found out any more about the murderer?”

Julia shook her head.

“Our children’s parents are really unsettled by the whole thing. They’re petrified in fact.”

“Janet manages a day care centre in the city,” Diego explained.

“We provide a lot of afterschool care too and some of the parents don’t even want their children to play out on the square anymore.” She shook her head.

Through the doorway, Julia saw Diego standing by the sofa in the living room. She could also see two children. Two shiny little faces: a boy and a girl. The girl looked about ten years old. That had to be Abby, she had jet black hair which had been plaited into thin braids and she was watching Julia with big dark eyes. Her brother was a little younger and was completely absorbed by the cartoon on television.

They ate rice with chicken and vegetables and a curry sauce which was better than all other sauces she had ever eaten before.

“You’re always welcome here, Julia. Diego tells me you often work late and then you still have to go all the way back to Gouda. That’s quite some distance.”

Julia smiled and mumbled a ‘thank you’. What was she doing here? Why hadn’t she gone home? She could have worked from home this evening. Then she would now have been sat at her own dining table with Daniel, Mees and Evi. Things weren’t quite as fun and cosy at home at the moment as they were here, but it was the place she was supposed to be. She was evading her problems. Like she was no longer prepared to fight for their happiness.

“Is something wrong?” Diego asked.

“No, everything is fine.” She put down her cutlery. “I was just thinking about the case.”

“Good point,” he noted. He moved his chair backwards and stood up. “Sorry, we have to be off again. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, then I’ll cook.” He planted a kiss on Janet’s forehead and said goodbye to his children. “Be good for mummy and goodnight for later on.”

Julia had already gone outside. She stayed on the step by the back door for a little while and looked out across the fields stretched out in front of her. She had to talk to Daniel, they needed to work on their relationship. Perhaps they just needed to do something fun together again. She couldn’t remember the last time they had been out to dinner with just the two of them. She wanted to make sure her own children also knew the warmth of a loving home.

*

Diego called Justus and Julia into his office on Friday to discuss any progress with the case. Justus decided to ignore her, as per usual: the intruder, the unwanted competition.

“So, where are we at the moment?” Diego started the conversation.

“That seems rather clear to me,” Justus said. “It looks like I was right all along, the clues are getting stronger.”

“Can you explain that?” Diego asked.

“That mutilation. The pathologist said it was possible that an object needed to be removed from the rectum. I still say this is the work of a paedophile ring, evidence needed to be destroyed.”

“That seems ever so short-sighted,” Julia said.

“Listen, I’m simply asking the question: Why did he never arrive at the doctor’s surgery? Had someone realised he was trying to make his way to the doctor? Of course they couldn’t allow that to happen, as it would instantly give them away. This concerned an object which would lead them straight to the perpetrator, like a mobile phone, for example. It’s no secret mobile phones with a vibration function are used for sex games, especially in the gay environment.”

This was heading in a completely wrong direction. So many wild assumptions were being made.

“So what exactly are you saying, what’s your theory?” Julia said.

“I think Brian was systematically being abused. Some object had been inserted into the rectum the day before the murder, something which would betray the perpetrator. The evidence needed to be destroyed when Brian wanted to go and see the doctor. And that was done with surgical precision.”

“But how did they know he wanted to go to the doctor?”

He looked at her with a meaningful glance. “Exactly what I would like to know. I think that father seems rather suspicious.”

Julia also thought Gert Huisman had been withholding information. But handing his own son over to a paedophile ring?

“The information about the planned doctor’s visit leaked somehow and that could have happened via the dad. Maybe not even on purpose. We know from earlier cases that there are plenty of parents who would do that to their children. Financial need is a motive,” Justus said.

Julia thought about the expensive things they had found in Brian’s room. Were these just plasters for his wounds, things to keep him sweet and make sure he kept his mouth shut?

“But why didn’t he simply cut that phone out, why remove the genitalia? It doesn’t make sense,” she said.

“To make it look like a sadistic murder. The true motives were obscured, it was a diversionary manoeuvre.”

“So, what are you proposing?”

“That we arrest the father as a suspect.”

“You really think he could have done this?”

“No, I don’t think so. But I think he’s an accomplice and that he can lead us to the perpetrator.”

Diego leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms above his head. He seemed to be considering taking Gert Huisman into custody.

“OK,” Diego decided. “Go and get him. I’ll inform the Public Prosecutor.”

Justus got up with a smile and was the first to leave the meeting room. Julia remained in her seat. What a mess. None of the reasoning was based on any solid foundations. What was she actually still doing here? Even Diego didn’t seem to want to use her expertise as a profiler, so she might as well go home. The disappointment was weighing down on her as she stood up.

She sat down behind her computer and opened up the crime scene photographs. She didn’t believe in the paedophile theory. Too many assumptions were being made and this had created a story which seemed like the reconstruction of the events, but was actually no more than a detective’s fantasy.

There were gaps in her investigation. So many things which were still grey areas to her. Who was Brian? What was he doing in the Rietgrachtstraat? What was his dad hiding? She constantly went back to the fact that the murder had been executed in far too a professional manner. The neat pile of clothes, the lack of any clear traces or clues; everything was pointing to a meticulously planned act. This perpetrator was playing a game. Everything she knew about him so far was pointing in the direction of a serial killer.

She had only asked Justus about this yesterday, but there were no old cases which could be linked to Brian’s case. She may need to go out looking herself, perhaps in Germany too. Arnhem was close enough to the border. She took in a deep breath. She couldn’t rely on Justus, he preferred to either ignore her or sneer at her if she asked for any information.

Her phone was ringing. It was Karel.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“It’s going alright. There aren’t as many clues as I would like, but on the other hand there are also plenty of things pointing in a certain direction.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“The problem is that the investigation team is thinking along completely different lines than I am. They think a paedophile ring is behind the murder. So a group of people, who planned this murder in order to destroy evidence.”

“And you see things differently?”

“I think the perpetrator acted from a sadistic motive and that it was all about the murder itself, the ritual. We’re a long way from where we need to be. The team’s theories are far too premature.”

“So what now?”

“They’re just continuing to focus on that one theory.”

“But isn’t the whole point of you being there to avoid this kind of tunnel vision?”

“Yes.” She hesitated for a moment. If she admitted she hadn’t been able to get through to the team, she’d be responsible for her own demise.

“Come on, Julia. Show them your added value within the team, you being drafted in for this case was certainly no coincidence.”

“Yes, of course. I’m working on it. The problem is that I can’t really come up with much better arguments myself.”

“But you can. In fact, you just did.”

She stayed where she was for a long time, focussing on the white wall in front of her. Then she poured herself a coffee and took her steaming mug over to Diego’s office.

“Have you got a minute?” she asked.

This was going to be tricky. She sat down and warmed her hands up on the mug which was resting in her lap. She was sat here because she had to prove herself to Karel, he wanted her to show she was a fully-fledged and worthy member of the team. She had an increasingly strong feeling that her future depended on this case. Which is why she now had to show them her worth.

“I am worried about ...,” she stopped mid-sentence. This didn’t sound clear enough. “I feel the investigation is heading in the wrong direction. Theories have been worked out based on assumptions and these truly make no sense at all.”

“That’s quite some statement. So you think the investigation team is completely on the wrong track.”

She sighed. “I simply think it’s too early to draw such premature conclusions based on, well, nothing.”

“Do you have an alternative theory?”

“No, not yet. But if we are purely focussing on this paedophile ring theory, we may well miss other important clues.”

“Listen Julia, I just want to do everything in my power to find that bastard. Progress is most important, we can’t just sit here waiting for things to happen. Do you have any arguments which result in a different picture?”

“There are no clear signs of abuse. Just look at how the perpetrator left the crime scene. A paedophile who needed to destroy evidence is not going to leave a pair of shoes on his victim’s chest. He wouldn’t leave his clothes in a neat pile next to him.”

“And?”

She smacked her hand down on the table. “This provides an insight into our perpetrator’s psyche. He carried out this murder as the climax to a carefully planned out fantasy.”

“You don’t think anything was stuck in that rectum at all?”

“The only conclusion I can reach as a profiler, with the information I have at my disposal, is that this was about the kick of the actual murder, that’s what it was all about for the perpetrator.”

“Right, be that as it may: Gert Huisman is being arrested. I have spoken to Maarten Brouwer about it too. He was asking after you. Perhaps you’d better give him a call.”

No. She was not going to call Maarten. She couldn’t handle that today of all days. She felt completely empty, like she could no longer see things clearly.

*

Back at home things were the same as always: Daniel on the sofa with his iPad, Mees and Evi both doing their own thing and the living room was an utter mess. She took a deep breath and greeted her children. She couldn’t muster up the energy to bend down over Daniel, or to get him to move off the sofa. She was done in. The washing up in the sink showed her the kids had already eaten.

“I’m going for a run,” she said, but he didn’t even react.

Mees came up to her once she was back downstairs in her running gear.

“When are you going to read me a story, mummy?”

“Not today, Mees. Mummy needs to clear her head. But I’ll come and give you a kiss once I’m back.”

“But I’ll be asleep by then. You never read to me anymore. I want you to read to me now.” He had crossed his arms and was pouting, just to add a little power to his demand.

“Tomorrow Mees. Tomorrow. OK?” She went outside without waiting for his answer. She managed to stop the tears from flowing until she had gone around the corner. She printed into the park like her life depended on it. She ran as fast as she could, hoping she could run all the misery out of her body. She managed to keep going for a long time. Until her lungs were burning so badly and the muscles in her legs simply couldn’t keep going, and she had no choice but to stop. She sat down on a bench and let her head drop down in her hands.

“What a God forsaken, almighty, bloody mess!” she said out loud. She wasn’t achieving anything, she was completely worthless in this investigation. And everything was terrible at home too. She had been able to get through to Daniel until fairly recently. At least he had still looked at her when they talked back then. She had hoped their last argument would have brought them a little closer again, but he had just ignored her again the next morning. He was completely indifferent. Like he had simply accepted that their relationship was on a downward spiral. Was this the end for them?

Where had it all gone wrong? When Evi had arrived? That’s when he suffered his burnout. An insidious disease which she had underestimated right from the very start. His personality had changed as a result of it, like something had been irreparably destroyed. The passion, the fire inside of him had gone out. He seemed to have accepted life as it was for him right now: grey. If it was down to him, there would be no big arguments, but no peaks of happiness either.

Her mobile vibrated. It was Maarten. She smiled bitterly through her tears. That idiot certainly always knew how to pick his moments. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone and most definitely not Maarten. But this could be about Brian. She had to answer.

“Maarten?”

“Julia, am I calling at a bad time?”

She wiped her face, which was wet from sweat, tears and snot. “No, it’s OK.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Are you sure?”

She didn’t reply, he certainly wouldn’t be finding out about her little breakdown.

“I’ve spoken to Diego,” he continued. “About the fact you don’t agree with the others.”

“I want to avoid the investigation coming to a complete standstill because we’re only going in one specific direction, whilst there is no evidence to back that up.” She was tired of constantly having to repeat herself. So tired.

“Of course, I understand. I just wanted to let you know that I completely support you in this. We’ll talk Monday morning. Look after yourself, Julia.”

She looked at her phone in complete shock. He had hung up. What a vague conversation. Why had he called her? It didn’t actually really matter, she didn’t have the energy to worry about Maarten Brouwer. There was only one thing she wanted: sleep. She was thinking about the new box of tablets in her bathroom cabinet as she slowly jogged home. She needed a double dose tonight, but that would mean her stock would soon diminish. She wouldn’t be getting any more from her GP, she would have to go back to the psychiatrist with her tail between her legs and beg for a prescription, since she’d had to promise she would wean herself off the sleeping tablets during the last appointment. He would ask questions. Horrible questions which would open up all the old wounds again.

*

It took a while for her to figure out what day it was when she woke up the next morning. Daniel wasn’t lying down next to her. So it must be Saturday: the only day of the week he was out of bed before her.

She stumbled down the stairs. She had to talk to Daniel. Urgently. Last night, when she got back from her run, he had already gone to bed. They couldn’t carry on like this anymore and she certainly wasn’t planning on giving up. She was far from ready for that. They were merely co-existing at the moment and if their marriage was worth anything to them, he would need to open up to her. At the moment it felt like he was increasingly withdrawing into his cocoon of self-pity. Of course she knew things were hard on him at the moment, especially as she had to work such long hours. But they had to find a way to become closer again.

Mees and Evi were wandering around the garden in their wellies. Daniel had made some coffee and was sat at the table, reading the paper. It was a fixed ritual: every Saturday he would collect fresh rolls and the Saturday edition of The Telegraph, which he would read through at his leisure. She could faintly smell his shower gel. It was the little things which made him so familiar.

She didn’t want to lose him.

A dull headache was throbbing behind her eyes. Undoubtedly a direct result of the sleeping pills, but it was still better than the alternative: nightmares. She filled a mug with coffee and put this down next to his paper, whilst she hugged him from behind.

“I love you.”

He sighed, but turned around and kissed her. She held onto him, felt the power within him, her rock, the one who had always been there for her. Somewhere deep inside this rock was still there.

“I’m sorry,” she started, but Daniel put a finger on her lips and pulled her in even closer.

The ringing of her phone broke the magic of the moment. She cursed that damned thing. She released herself from his embrace and grabbed her phone from the kitchen worktop. It was Diego.

“Work. I’ve got to take this.”

“You’re not going today.”

She smiled. “No. We’re going to do something fun together. I’ll get rid of him somehow.”

She took a deep breath and answered the call.

“Julia. We’ve got a description of the perpetrator. Two kids who were playing outside clearly saw the men who were sat on the bench with Brian. Can you come in?”

She glanced at Mees, who was busy collecting leaves from the garden and putting them all in a bucket. She had promised to take him to the zoo today.

“I can’t today, Diego.”

“There’s more. We need you here urgently.”

She sighed. The thought of the disappointment on Mees’ face literally made her feel sick. Would he forgive her this time?

“Brian’s dad has been here since last night and he’s completely lost it. He says he wants to talk to you.”

Daniel was focussing on her lips, as if he could force her to say no.

“To me?”

“Yes, only to you. Apparently he does know what Brian was doing in the Rietgrachtstraat.”