Read Online The Perfidious Parrot by Janwillem van de Wetering - Free Book Online

“While all this goes on in the background it turns out that Ambagt & Son has suffered a severe loss, a tanker-load of crude oil taken by pirates. The amount involved could be their entire working capital for all we know, but they have no recourse as they themselves are illegal. Liberian citizens selling Iranian energy to Cuba right under the nose of Uncle Sam?
    “And even if they were still Dutch, and reported the piracy to the Dutch
Rijks
Police in St. Maarten? A lieutenant in charge of a dozen constables trying to safeguard tourists going wild in casinos and stripbars and worse? Besides, the piracy took place in international waters, the high seas. Yo ho.”
    “What?” Katrien asked.
    “Yo ho,” the commissaris said enthusiastically. “Not a chance, Katrien. But what happens? Haven’t I always said so? Good luck comes to those who are lucky.”
    Katrien banged a ladylike fist on the table. “You did not, Jan. You used to say that good luck comes to those who keep trying.”
    “I don’t think so now,” the commissaris said, “I gave in. I no longer believe in positive thinking. Things don’t get better and better, things just are, and you can always fit in with things somehow. Things just happen, I happen along.”
    “
Shit
just happens,” Katrien said. “Like me getting old and ugly. You going off on your own again. Having fun.”
    The commissaris banged a gentleman’s fist on the table. “No, Katrien. I marry you and you are beautiful and then you are a grandmother and baby-sit and you’re still beautiful. You were just fine then, you’re just fine now.”
    “I look like shit,” Katrien, smacking her hips with her hands. “Look at me. Bah.”
    “You know,” the commissaris said. “I find you more elegant as you grow older.”
    “I am just fine,” Katrien said. “Everything is just fine. Crime is just fine. Crooked Ambagt & Son running into corrupt Ketchup & Karate is just fine?”
    “It just
is
. I call it fine because I prefer laughing to crying.” The commissaris shrugged. “And it will be gone in the end. Look at our world, Katrien. Think back a little. A meteor hits a planet. Because of that impact dinosaurs will eventually be replaced by us, human monkeys, as the dominant species. Now look ahead a little. A few million years pass like a flash and another meteor will hit the same planet. This time the planetchanges into empty space. All is gone. Even the records, for there is nobody left, nobody to recall that anything went on. I can’t even say that anything went on
here
for there won’t be a here. Just empty space where the planet burned out.”
    “You know,” Katrien said furiously, “I think you’re dreaming up your own universe. You got bored. You had to dream up some action, so you dreamed up this giant tanker so that Grijpstra and de Gier would have something to do again, and you could lead them into trouble.” She poured coffeeless coffee. “Enjoy.”
    “This,” the commissaris said, tasting, “isn’t even unprinted E-mail. This is embryonic. This is not even a concept. This is pure cyberspace sh—”
    “Jan!”
    “You used that word just now.”
    “I am a woman,” Katrien said. “Women can say anything now. You’re an archetype.”
    “Of what?”
    “Of the old wise man.”
    “I am?” the commissaris asked. He kissed her cheek. “What do wise old men do? Stick to their diet and walk briskly in one of Holland’s last enclaves of pure nature?” He put on the hat with the pheasant feather Katrien bought him for his birthday, grabbed his cane and limped out of the house.
    The commissaris parked his old model Citroën behind the windmill at the entrance of the nature reserve north of Amsterdam. He grumbled and groaned as he hiked along the shore paths. Insects rose from cattails and ferns and successfully penetrated his armor of bug spray. Summering boating peoplesipped lukewarm beer while singing along with radio transmitted advertising jingles. A giant