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wonder how young Bart fits in now."
    "And then there was IJsbreker Senior," Grijpstra said. "Father of the subject who shot himself. The report says IJsbreker Senior was a banker, so maybe he ran the bank. Willem Fernandus doesn't run the Banque du Credit, sir?"
    "Willem is the president, Adjutant. He probably doesn't handle the day-to-day business, because he's still an attorney with an office on Prince Hendrik Quay, quite an impressive building."
    "With nasty-looking gargoyles sitting on the steps," de Gier said. "I pass that place often. The mansion has recently been restored. The gable was sandblasted and all the ornaments repaired."
    "We could find out," the commissaris said. "Prince Hendrik Quay is only a stone's throw from the Binnenkant, where IJsbreker Junior lived and died. The Banque du Credit is also on the quay, two blocks east of Willem's office."
    "A stone's throw away from a houseboat where Adjutant Guldemeester found three dead junkies," Grijpstra said.
    "So you were saying." The commissaris shook the thermos flask. "Maybe we can squeeze three small cups out of this smart invention. Miss Antoinette has been improving things here. Oh, by the way, Sergeant, you find my secretary to your liking?"
    "Sir?" de Gier asked.
    The commissaris found two more cups. "Yes."
    De Gier scratched his buttock. "Well. . . eh . . . sort of cool. Not very responsive."
    "Ah," the commissaris said. "You're answering the question behind my question. So Cardozo actually met one of the junkies. Adjutant, when you have a minute, I'd like you to check the reports from ballistics and pathology on Martin IJsbreker. I don't imagine there has been a proper autopsy on the junkies, but you might find something there too. Pathology must have checked on the overdose supposition. And you, Sergeant, send a routine message to all personnel about the American student of Chinese, saying that we'd welcome any data at all. Subject interests me because of the information he didn't give after all."
    "Would you like us to visit the premises where IJsbreker died?" de Gier asked.
    "Yes, tonight, maybe." The commissaris rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. "I'd like to come along. We'll need a key. Maybe Guldemeester has the IJsbreker key."
    "Adjutant Guldemeester won't like this, sir."
    "No?" the commissaris asked. "No. Perhaps you're right. So you'd better see him straightaway. Sergeant. Yes, I think that would be best."
    "He might refuse, sir."
    "Then bring him in here, Sergeant."
    Grijpstra laughed.
    The commissaris frowned. "You're not enjoying the discomfort of a colleague, I hope."
    "No," Grijsptra said. "I was thinking of Guldemeester's birthday party, earlier this year. De Gier and Cardozo were invited, too. Bit of a disaster that was."
    "Ah?"
    Grijpstra looked at de Gier. "Leave me out of it," de Gier said. "I had a terrible time."
    "Let's hear this," the commissaris said. "Or shouldn't I?"
    De Gier sat down on the edge of a chair. "May I tell it, sir? Grijpstra will exaggerate. Have you met Guldemeester's wife, Celine?"
    "Perhaps I have, Sergeant. Pretty? Long blond hair?"
    "A most attractive young lady," Grijpstra said.
    "Guldemeester must be your age, Adjutant. Fifty or so?"
    "Celine isaround thirty," deGiersaid. "They haven't been married long, and they won't be married long, either, I would guess. Guldemeester likes to drink— as we all do, of course—but I felt rather uncomfortable, so I only had a few."
    The commissaris looked at Grijpstra. Grijpstra nodded.
    "I hate birthday parties," de Gier said. "I don't particularly like Guldemeester, either. I should never have gone, but he invited me and I thought it would be rude to refuse."
    "I always refuse," the commissaris said.
    "Mrs. Guldemeester made a pass at me," de Gier said. "Everyone was quite drunk by then. Except me, as I mentioned."
    "You got drunk?" the commissaris asked Grijpstra.
    "Grijpstra threw up on the goats," de Gier said. "But that was afterward. Guldemeester keeps