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obtained more time to look after his hair salon. Fortune visits Beelema's cafe regularly; so does his wife, Rea. You want to know about Rea? Analysis of the victim, very important in murder cases it seems."
    "Please."
    Jurriaans shook his head. "Don't know much about her. I believe she used to be on the stage, long time ago, before she married. A quiet woman, arrogant, talks as if she has a mouthful of hot potatoes. Because she comes from The Hague, I believe they all talk like that out there, but they say that The Hague people are real too. I wouldn't know, I've never been there. You?"
    "Once or twice. Attractive?"
    "The Hague?" Jurriaans asked.
    "No! Rea Fortune, an attractive lady?"
    "I wouldn't say so. Not unattractive either. Wishy-washy. I preferred her poodle, a woolly rag with a silk collar, known as Babette. I'll say that for Babette, she knew how to deal with Kiran. One yap from Babette and Kiran was scratching at the door. Admirable behavior, even for an animated needlecraft kit."
    "Love and friendship," Grijpstra said, "that's what we see when we want to see it. But in reality there's nothing but evil behind the rosy shades. Zhaver grateful to Beelema, what do we know? He probably hates the exploiter's guts and curses him daily from his cramped quarters above the bar."
    Jurriaans nodded. "Possibly. He does have the smallest room ever, even smaller than Titania's who lives on the same floor."
    "And Zhaver hates Frits Fortune because Frits threatened him through the gorillas," Grijpstra said. "And Zhaver has an affair with Rea Fortune, so has Beelema. Fortune and Titania carry on too."
    "Who carries on now? Although you're right that Zhaver isn't gay, he only looks gay. I've given you facts, the rest you can imagine and try to prove. Jealousy is a fact of life, but it isn't always everywhere. I wouldn't follow you in any of your accusations. Fortune, for one, is a fine upstanding specimen. All he ever does is work and when he drinks he only has one or two. Last night was an exception. Personally, I like them all, except Rea. She can stay away for all I care and I won't miss Babette either."
    Grijpstra got up. "People are no good, Jurriaans. I don't have to stress the point. If you haven't found out by now, you should leave the police. I suspect Fortune of having murdered his wife. Maybe he should have, but that's the court's business. I plan to pursue the man. If only I knew what he did with the corpse. So far, I move in empty space. I don't like that much. All that emptiness, it's eerie. Bah!" He brought out his wallet.
    "On the house," Jurriaans said. "Come again. Don't forget to say goodbye to Asta when you leave."
    De Gier waited in the street; he was talking to a small black boy. The boy smoked a cigarette.
    "I knew it," the boy said, "but I forgot for a moment. Thank you." He dropped his cigarette stub and walked away.
    Grijpstra touched de Gier's shoulder. "Weren't preaching, were you? What did that boy know? That smoking is bad for the health?"
    "Wrong conclusion, adjutant. I just managed to pull that boy from under an oncoming truck and probably saved his life. Whereupon I said, 'Don't you know that you should look before you cross?' He answered politely. A nice little boy, even if he happens to be pitch black."
    "You discriminate," Grijpstra said. "So did your colleague inside, but he was referring to people from The Hague."
    "It's impossible to discriminate against people from The Hague," de Gier said when they walked to the car. "Are we going anywhere?"
    "To Headquarters. I telephoned the commissaris. He's making a special trip to his office to hear us. He's got the weekend off."
    "I don't want to go. The two of you will be smoking."
    "You could smoke too."
    "I can't, you know I can't." There was agony in the sergeant's voice and Grijpstra took pity.
    "So why did you stop, Rinus?"
    "For you."
    "Hondecoeter."
    "What?"
    "Hondecoeter," Grijpstra said. "If you answer out of context, I can do the same. I say