Read Online Into the Night: Inspector Rykel Book 2 (Amsterdam Quartet) by Jake Woodhouse - Free Book Online Page B

was usually big, but it was too early for anything really fun to have happened yet. They often took bets on the exact time the first murder got called in.
    His phone livened up his pocket with a buzz, and he pulled it out, noticing the number on the screen. It was the guy who ran the weekly meetings he’d told Jaap he was still going to. He let it ring. He’d been leaving messages almost every day, wanting to check when Kees was coming back and hoping that he was sticking to his pledge.
    Sanctimonious bastard
, thought Kees as the phone buzzed again, signalling another voicemail. He deleted it without listening then turned his attention to what he had to do.
    The parcel was sitting there. In plain view of anyone who had two eyes in their head and a brain to process the information. Which made about three by Kees’ count.
    The whole thing’s getting out of control
, he thought as he picked up the parcel.
    ‘Hey, Kees,’ said one of the men, an inspector whose name Kees had forgotten, just as he was turning round to head out the door. ‘What’s in there?’
    ‘Oh just some stuff,’ he said, suddenly unable to think of anything.
    ‘Yeah? Anything fun?’
    ‘Just stuff.’
    ‘Like porn stuff? A strap-on? That why it’s wrapped in plain brown paper?’
    ‘You tell me – seems like you know a lot about that,’ said Kees, turning away.
    ‘Or maybe it’s one of those rings you put round your—’
    ‘Terpstra.’
    Kees turned to see Smit storming into the room, his boss’s eyes zeroed in on him like he was prey.
    ‘Got him?’ demanded Smit as he came into range, his bulk imposing.
    ‘I’ve got a strong lead and—’
    ‘Really? What is it? Please tell me,’ said Smit as he stopped right in front of him. Kees could smell him, a smell like flowers. Powdery, delicate flowers.
    ‘He went to a friend’s place out in Zandvoort, and they left together.’
    The other inspectors hadn’t stopped what they were doing, but they were all fully tuned in now, Kees could feel it.
    He couldn’t blame them really. They spent their working lives rocking up to dead bodies, but they very rarely got to see a murder actually take place.
    ‘I see. And now? Where are they?’
    ‘That’s what I’m working on. I—’
    ‘It doesn’t look like it to me,’ said Smit, stepping even closer, right into Kees’ face. ‘What it looks like to me is you jerking yourself off when you should be out there finding this guy. I’ve had the big lawyer asshole who’s head of ICTY on the phone, and he wants you shipped down there and chucked in a cell with someone responsible for mass genocide, and—’
    One of the inspectors laughed. Smit glanced round to see who it was just as a uniform walked in and, unaware of the bollocking in progress, stepped over to Kees.
    ‘Got this for you,’ he said, handing over a file.
    Kees opened it. There’d been a hit on Osman Krilic.
    A brawl in a bar out by Centraal three weeks ago meant he was on the system. Though why it had taken over an hour to find that out was anybody’s guess.
    Kees slipped a photo and a few sheets out of the file and scanned them, noticing that the home address for Krilic was not in Zandvoort.
    It was in Amsterdam.
    Surely he’d not be so stupid as to go there now?
thought Kees.
    But the alternative was to listen to more abuse from Smit.
    ‘Gotta go,’ he said. ‘This is important.’
    He made for the door, holding the parcel in one hand. It was making him nervous and it had made him realize something else; he was going to have to deal with Paul.
    ‘I want to be kept up to date on this, that clear?’
    ‘Sure,’ said Kees over his shoulder as stepped into the corridor. ‘Absolutely.’
    Back in the carpool he was told nothing was available.
    ‘I just brought one back, less than ten minutes ago.’
    The guy sitting at the window just shrugged.
    ‘Being cleaned,’ he said as he probed between his front two teeth with a key, then, having found whatever it was that