Read Online Death of a Hawker by Janwillem van de Wetering - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janwillem van de Wetering
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fellow? With a golden necklace?"
"Yes."
"I know him." Elizabeth pursed her lips. "He has spoken to me. Often. He has even visited me here. He's got a stall on the Albert Cuyp street market in town, hasn't he?"
"Had."
"Yes, yes. Got killed, did he? What a shame. We haven't had any crime here for as long as I can re* member. Not since those two idiot sailors clobbered each other years and years ago and I don't think they were ever charged. I pulled them apart and one of them slipped and fell into the canal."
She rubbed her hands gleefully. "Maybe I shoved him a little, did I? Hehehehe."
"Ah well, there has to be a first time for everything. Manslaughter, you said? Or murder? I saw some murders when I was on the force, but not too many of them, thank the Lord. Amsterdam isn't a murderous city although it's getting worse now. It's those newfangled drugs, don't you think?"
"You were on the force?" de Gier asked in a sudden high voice. The commissaris kicked him viciously under the table and de Gier began to rub his shin.
"Constable, first class," Elizabeth said proudly, "but that was some years ago, before I retired. My health was a bit weak, you see. But I liked the job, better than being lady of the toilets. Five years on the force and thirty years in the toilets. I think I can remember most of my police days but there wasn't much happening when I was scrubbing floors and polishing taps and carrying towels and cakes of soap. And all these men pissing, piss piss piss all day. I thought in the end that that was all men ever do, hehehehehe."
The commissaris laughed and slapped his thighs and kicked de Gier under the table again. De Gier laughed too.
"I see," he said when he had finished laughing.
"But tell me about Abe Rogge's death, commissaris," Elizabeth said.
The commissaris talked for a long time and Elizabeth nodded and stirred her coffee and poured more coffee and handed out biscuits.
"Yes," she said in the end. "I see. And you want me to find out what I can find out. I see. I'll let you know. I can listen in the shops and I know a lot of people here. It's about time I paid some visits."
The commissaris gave her his card. "You can phone me in the evenings too. My home number is on the card."
"No," Elizabeth said. "I don't like telephoning gentlemen at their homes. The wives don't like it when a spinister like me suddenly wants to talk to hubby."
The commissaris smiled. "No, perhaps you are right. We'll have to be on our way, Elizabeth, thanks for the coffee, and you did a beautiful job on the bell-pull."
"Commissaris," de Gier said when they were on the quay again.
"Yes?"
De Gier cleared his throat. "Was that really a friend of yours, commissaris?"
"Sure. I kicked you just in time, didn't I? I thought I had warned you before we went in. That, as you put it, once was Constable First Class Herbert Kalff. Served under me for a while, used to patrol this part of the city, but he had a problem as you will understand. He thought he was a woman and the idea got stronger and stronger. We put him on sick leave for a year and he was more or less all right when he came back but it started again. Claimed he was a girl and wanted to be called Elizabeth. He was on sick leave again and when there was no change we could only retire him. By that time she was a woman. There wasn't much medical science could do for her then. I imagine they operate on cases like that now. The poor soul has to live in a male body. She got a job as a lavatory lady in a factory but they made fun of her and she didn't last. She thinks that she was there for a long time but it isn't the truth. Her self-respect makes her say that. The truth is that she was declared unemployable and has lived on State money ever since. I've kept in touch and the social workers call on her but there was no need really; she has had a stable personality ever since she chose to be a woman, and she is incredibly healthly. She's over seventy, you know, and her mind is
"Yes."
"I know him." Elizabeth pursed her lips. "He has spoken to me. Often. He has even visited me here. He's got a stall on the Albert Cuyp street market in town, hasn't he?"
"Had."
"Yes, yes. Got killed, did he? What a shame. We haven't had any crime here for as long as I can re* member. Not since those two idiot sailors clobbered each other years and years ago and I don't think they were ever charged. I pulled them apart and one of them slipped and fell into the canal."
She rubbed her hands gleefully. "Maybe I shoved him a little, did I? Hehehehe."
"Ah well, there has to be a first time for everything. Manslaughter, you said? Or murder? I saw some murders when I was on the force, but not too many of them, thank the Lord. Amsterdam isn't a murderous city although it's getting worse now. It's those newfangled drugs, don't you think?"
"You were on the force?" de Gier asked in a sudden high voice. The commissaris kicked him viciously under the table and de Gier began to rub his shin.
"Constable, first class," Elizabeth said proudly, "but that was some years ago, before I retired. My health was a bit weak, you see. But I liked the job, better than being lady of the toilets. Five years on the force and thirty years in the toilets. I think I can remember most of my police days but there wasn't much happening when I was scrubbing floors and polishing taps and carrying towels and cakes of soap. And all these men pissing, piss piss piss all day. I thought in the end that that was all men ever do, hehehehehe."
The commissaris laughed and slapped his thighs and kicked de Gier under the table again. De Gier laughed too.
"I see," he said when he had finished laughing.
"But tell me about Abe Rogge's death, commissaris," Elizabeth said.
The commissaris talked for a long time and Elizabeth nodded and stirred her coffee and poured more coffee and handed out biscuits.
"Yes," she said in the end. "I see. And you want me to find out what I can find out. I see. I'll let you know. I can listen in the shops and I know a lot of people here. It's about time I paid some visits."
The commissaris gave her his card. "You can phone me in the evenings too. My home number is on the card."
"No," Elizabeth said. "I don't like telephoning gentlemen at their homes. The wives don't like it when a spinister like me suddenly wants to talk to hubby."
The commissaris smiled. "No, perhaps you are right. We'll have to be on our way, Elizabeth, thanks for the coffee, and you did a beautiful job on the bell-pull."
"Commissaris," de Gier said when they were on the quay again.
"Yes?"
De Gier cleared his throat. "Was that really a friend of yours, commissaris?"
"Sure. I kicked you just in time, didn't I? I thought I had warned you before we went in. That, as you put it, once was Constable First Class Herbert Kalff. Served under me for a while, used to patrol this part of the city, but he had a problem as you will understand. He thought he was a woman and the idea got stronger and stronger. We put him on sick leave for a year and he was more or less all right when he came back but it started again. Claimed he was a girl and wanted to be called Elizabeth. He was on sick leave again and when there was no change we could only retire him. By that time she was a woman. There wasn't much medical science could do for her then. I imagine they operate on cases like that now. The poor soul has to live in a male body. She got a job as a lavatory lady in a factory but they made fun of her and she didn't last. She thinks that she was there for a long time but it isn't the truth. Her self-respect makes her say that. The truth is that she was declared unemployable and has lived on State money ever since. I've kept in touch and the social workers call on her but there was no need really; she has had a stable personality ever since she chose to be a woman, and she is incredibly healthly. She's over seventy, you know, and her mind is
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