Read Death of a Hawker for Free Online Page B

them."
    He was back in a minute. "Nothing. I asked the men upstairs as well. There is a man from the finger-print department. He says there is nothing in the room either. No weapon, no stone."
    "Abe was a strange man and he died in a strange way," Esther said, "but there will be some technical explanation. There always is, for anything."
    "Nothing is stolen, is there?"
    "No. There is no money in the house, except what Abe keeps in his wallet. The wallet is still there, in the side pocket of his bush jacket. I saw the bulge. The pocket is buttoned. He usually has a few thousand guilders in it."
    "That's a lot of money to keep in one's pocket."
    "Abe always had money. He could make it much faster than he could spend it. He owns the warehouse next door; it's full of merchandise, and it never stays there long. There is cotton cloth in it now, bought just before the cotton price went up, and a whole floor stacked with cartons of wool, which he is selling in the street market."
    "There is no connection between this house and the warehouse next door is there?"
    "No."
    "No secret door?"
    "No, sergeant. The only way to get to the warehouse is via the street. The courtyards in the back are separated by a high brick wall, much too high to climb."
    Grijpstra and the commissaris were coming down the stairs. De Gier called them in and introduced the commissaris to Esther. Two health officers were maneuvering their stretcher up the stairs, they had come with the Water Police launch.
    "I'll go upstairs," de Gier said. "I think we would like to have the contents of the pockets before the body is taken away. You'll be given a receipt, Miss Rogge."
    "Yes," the commissaris said. "We'll be off for a while now but we may have to come back later. I hope you don't mind the intrusion on your privacy, miss, but..."
    "Yes, commissaris," Esther said. "I'll be waiting for you."
    The atmosphere in the street was still eerie. A siren wailed in the square nearby. A fresh platoon of riot police came marching up the narrow quay. Two launches of the Water Police, their foredecks packed with leather-coated constables ready to disembark, were navigating carefully between the moored houseboats and the launch preparing to take Abe Rogge's body aboard.
    A young man, exhausted, was being run to the ground on the other side of the canal. Gloved hands grabbed his wrists and the detectives could hear the handcuffs' click and the man's sobbing breath.
    "Where to, sir?" Grijpstra asked.
    The commissaris was watching the arrest. "Hmm?"
    "What now, sir?"
    "Anywhere, a quiet place somewhere, a pub, a cafe. You go and find it. I am going back into the house a minute. When you find a good place you can telephone the Rogge house. The number will be in the book. Terrible, isn't it?"
    "What, sir?"
    "That manhunt just now. These riots bring out the worst in everyone."
    "They weren't manhandling him, sir, they only made an arrest. The man has probably wounded a policeman in the square. They wouldn't go to so much trouble to catch him otherwise."
    "I know, I know," the commissaris said, "but it's degrading. I have seen men hunted down like that during the war."
    Grijpstra had seen it too but he didn't say anything.
    "Right, run along."
    "Sir," Grijpstra said and tapped de Gier on the shoulder.
    "So where to?" de Gier asked. "Do you know anything here? The pubs will all be closed and I wouldn't want a police conference in a pub here right now anyway." Grijpstra was staring at the policemen across the water. They were marching their prisoner to a Water Police launch. The prisoner wasn't resisting. Three men going for a walk.
    "Hey."
    "Yes," Grijpstra said. "The only place I can think of is Nellie's bar. It will be closed but she'll open up if she is in."
    "Don't know the place."
    "Of course you don't."
    * * *
    They read the sign together. It said "If I don't answer the bell don't bang on the door for I won't be in." They read it three times.
    "What nonsense," de Gier said finally. "If