Read Online The Darkroom of Damocles by Willem Frederik Hermans - Free Book Online Page B

Salvation Army woman a while ago, and she had exactly the same one. I can’t see why the people in England would give the same picture to every person making contact with me.’
    â€˜Is that true?’
    â€˜Clearly it is. The people who sent you over here are a bunch of incompetents. They give you useless fake identification and a bag full of silver guilders no one would be seen dead with in Holland these days. They didn’t even take that funny-looking pencil off you. Go on, open your bag. Show me what else you’ve got in there!’
    She emptied the bag out on the bed. There were nineteen silver guilders, three zinc quarters, two zinc cents, six food coupons, five new hundred-guilder notes and ten new hundred-Reichsmark notes.
    â€˜Where did you get the zinc coins?’
    â€˜They’re change from the guilder I paid on the tram to get to the terminal at Voorburg. Otherwise I haven’t spent anything. I was at my aunt’s house until this afternoon.’
    Osewoudt unfolded the identity card and held it up to the light.
    â€˜You’re right, it’s a rotten fake.’
    He folded the card again and pocketed it. He also took the silver guilders. He scrunched up the paper money and put it back in her bag. Then he reached for her coat.
    â€˜You never know! There might be a label of some London shop sewn into it! That would be good. Save the Germans a whole lot of time if they started wondering where you came from.’
    He examined the coat closely, the outside, the lining, the inside of the loop at the collar, but there was no label, number or name anywhere.
    â€˜The stitching is different,’ he said. ‘It looks peculiar, un-Dutch somehow. Could be the kind of stitching they use for army uniforms.’
    He laid the coat down and she let him help her out of her sweater. She took off her skirt and underwear herself. It was pink, sensible underwear, made of coarse material. He inspected all the seams but found nothing suspicious. Still holding her vest, he turned to look at her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her arms to her sides in an attitude that might say: I’m cold, or, more likely, perhaps: I know my body’s a bit flabby, I bet you’re disappointed.
    He laid the vest down.
    â€˜Henri! Henri! Listen here!’ called a voice from downstairs.
    Osewoudt left the room and went down two flights.
    Uncle Bart stood in the doorway of his room.
    â€˜Did you take that girl up to your old bedroom? You’d better sleep in Ria’s room. There are sheets and blankets in the cabinet. You know I’m not prejudiced, but there are limits. You know what I mean. Not being prejudiced isn’t the same as saying anything goes, is it now? If you don’t want to stay with Ria that’s your business, but not under my roof! Do you get my drift? The world’s immoral enough as it is. There’s nothing like a war for bringing down morals. What do you take me for? Ria is my daughter, after all! My only daughter!’
    â€˜Of course, Uncle. Good night then.’
    Uncle Bart seized Osewoudt’s hand and squeezed it firmly. He smiled with relief and said: ‘I’ve just been listening to a broadcast from London. Things are looking up! The front in Normandy is on the move. In a few months we’ll be liberated!’
    Osewoudt withdrew his hand and went back upstairs.
    The girl had got under the covers. He sat down on the bed and asked: ‘How long are you thinking of staying here?’
    â€˜That depends on you, and on your uncle.’
    â€˜No, it depends on how much work you have to do in Amsterdam.’
    â€˜I don’t actually have anything to do in Amsterdam yet, but I may later. There’s someone I have to see in Utrecht first, so I think I’ll do that tomorrow morning. The person’s name is de Vos Clootwijk. He’s a railway engineer. I’m supposed to get him to give us information about German