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they play the boss, and before you know it they’re somewhere else spending your money.”
    Versavel knew what Van In had been through, but insisted nevertheless: “I think you should follow my advice this time. You only have to look at her and you know you can’t win.”
    But there was no need to try to convince him any further. Hannelore Martens had heard voices in the front of the shop and had come to take a look. Versavel kept a careful eye on Van In. He was mesmerized, as Versavel had predicted.
    “Deputy Martens, may I introduce you to Assistant Commissioner Van In? He’ll be in charge of the case from now on.”
    The Deputy didn’t seem to mind Van In’s stare.
    “Delighted to meet you, Commissioner Van In. I’m curious to hear your opinion on the case. If you ask me, there’s something weird going on.”
    “I only just got here,” Van In snapped. “Sergeant Versavel was just briefing me.”
    He could feel the sweat begin to appear on his forehead. It usually took a while before he was able to have a normal conversation with a strange female. He had to make a serious effort not to stutter. The sense of unease he had with women dated back to his adolescence. He was now too old to do anything about it. It’ll subside soon enough, he thought to himself, in a feeble attempt at comfort.
    “Can we confer?” She pointed at one of the tables. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled back a chair and sat down. She crossed her legs with elegance.
    Versavel noticed that Van In was having problems and came to his colleague’s aid.
    “The chief commissioner is here, ma’am. He’s outside, talking with the owner. Shall I call him?” His question knocked her off kilter for a few seconds. Representatives of the public prosecutor were expected to discuss matters with the most senior officer present. It was an unwritten rule.
    “No, thank you, Sergeant. I’ll find him myself. We’ll talk later.”
    “Whew,” Van In sighed as she walked out the door. “You could have warned me, man. Thanks a lot!”
    “I tried.” Versavel grinned. “But you wouldn’t listen. By the way, have you forgotten what you did last year, cuffing me to that young German guy for half the night? Jesus, we were thigh to thigh. I had to control myself. You did that on purpose. It’s not my fault she’s cute.”
    Van In took a deep breath. The throbbing knot of nerves in his gut had started to melt.
    “Okay, that’s one all. Next time we arrest an Adonis, you get to frisk him naked, Versavel. Eh, kiddo?”
    They both exploded with laughter.

4
    L EO VANMAELE LUMBERED INTO THE SHOP at eleven-fifteen with the pretty Hannelore in his wake.
    “The chief commissioner and Mr. Degroof are having a coffee together in Café Craenenburg, on the terrace,” she said before Leo could get a word in. “Mr. Vanmaele here is from the judicial police, part of their technical team,” she added in a school-teacherly tone.
    “Good morning, Mr. Vanmaele,” said Van In with a wink.
    They had often guzzled Duvels together into the wee small hours, but she didn’t need to know that.
    Vanmaele had parked his screaming yellow Audi 100 in front of the shop window with two wheels on the sidewalk. He had had it sprayed yellow in a bet with Van In. If anyone managed to trace another yellow Audi 100 with Belgian plates, then Van In would have to pay for every Duvel they cracked together for a whole year. If Van In lost the bet, it was going to cost him a hell of a lot more than Vanmaele had coughed up for the spray job.
    “Been a while since we worked together.”
    “Indeed, Commissioner,” said Leo Vanmaele indifferently.
    “So what’s the story?”
    “Person or persons unknown appear to have dissolved Degroof’s entire collection in a tank of aqua regis.” Van In took a step backward and pointed in the direction of Hannelore and Versavel. “That’s all I know; I just arrived.”
    Hannelore thought Van In’s approach was on the feeble side.