Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2) (7 page)

She sat up in the bath. “Can you come over here?”

He halted at the rim and she caressed his legs with her soapy hands until his penis quivered. His stance widened as she slipped her hand between his legs and cupped his scrotum. With a wash cloth she cleaned his penis, stroked his erection until his breathing became ragged. She released him and rose to her feet. Bram took the brush from his mouth and she kissed some toothpaste from the corner of his mouth.

“Hand me a towel?”

He put the brush back and handed her a towel. She dried herself, kissed Bram and led him by his erection to the bedroom.

-o-

Bram’s cell phone rang. Katla opened one eye and focused on the floating green digits of the alarm clock.

03.15.

Bram snored beside her, oblivious to his ringing phone. She shook him by his shoulder. “Bram, wake up. Your phone is ringing.”

He picked up the phone just as it stopped ringing. “What time is it?”

“A quarter past three.” Katla took the phone from his hand and read the display. The number was in his contacts. “Anouk called.”

“Anouk? It’s not like her to call at this hour.”

Bram took the phone from her hand, called the Voicemail service, listened and pressed 1 for repeating the message as he handed the phone to her. Katla could hear a girl’s voice, sounding tearful and murmuring Bram’s name, then a crash and the message stopped.

“Maybe you should call her back.”

Rubbing his face Bram sat up and dialled. He listened for a while. “There’s no answer, goes straight to Voicemail.”

“Maybe she can’t reach the phone.”

Bram frowned. “I should go over.”

“You want me to take you?”

“Would you? She lives at Prinseneiland, close to the Galgenbrug.”

“I know the area,” Katla replied. “Get dressed.”

Bram wandered back to the bedroom. “We have to swing by my place. I don’t have her keys with me.”

“What are her locks like?” Katla asked. “Like yours or better?”

“About the same. Why?”

“I’ll bring my picks. Save us some time.”

-o-

The Vespa motor scooter puttered through deserted streets glistening with puddles. The rain had turned into a light drizzle that coated her helmet with fine droplets. Katla wiped her visor with the squeegee on her glove and turned right, taking the tunnel at Tussen De Bogen.

“Bickerseiland?” Bram asked over her shoulder.

“Yes,” Katla replied. “I’ll take the Kleine Bickerstraat to Galgenbrug.”

“It’s the second door on your right, after the bridge.”

Just after the Galgenbrug were two small two-story houses joined under one roof. Katla parked her Vespa next to the second door and read the small plaque under the doorbell. “What’s her last name?”

“Ravensdonk,” Bram replied. “Why?”

“Just checking. Wouldn’t want to open the wrong door.”

The tumbler lock provided about as much security as a Nepalese curtain. She opened her tool case, selected an electric pick gun, inserted the prongs and pulled the trigger. The prongs vibrated, depressing the tumblers, and she twisted the gun to open the lock.

“That’s quicker than a key,” Bram spoke. “Not much security.”

Katla pushed open the door and stepped back. “You go first.”

Bram moved without hesitation into the dark hallway. The tiny house smelled of the same incense Bram burned in his basement. Katla put the pick gun back in the case and followed him, her hand searching for the light switch. She found a round knob and twisted it. Spotlights bloomed to life, suspended from cables that ran the length of the hallway. The walls were plastered white and adorned with abstract paintings.

Bram called her name from somewhere in the back. Katla passed a closed door and entered the second room on her left. Two Siamese cats streaked past her legs and ran into the kitchen at the end of the hallway. The room was dark, except for a tiny halo of light around a reading lamp mounted over the headboard of the double bed.

On the bed lay a nude girl, curled in a foetal position, her pale skin translucent in the light except for the dark swirling pattern that covered her shoulder and upper arm. Her hair shone an unnatural shade of red and her ears and nose were pierced.

Bram crouched by the bed and whispered to her, his hand against the side of her face. The girl’s eyes flicked in her direction as Katla came around the bed and stood next to Bram.

“What’s wrong?” Katla asked. “Are you sick?”

“She has a subluxation of the L2.” He palpated the girl’s spine. “The second vertebra in her lower back has shifted.”

“Just like that?”

“An old injury.” Bram straightened. “I need a hard flat object to put under her.”

“Kitchen,” the girl whispered, as if talking out loud would hurt her. “Serving tray.”

“I’ll find it,” Katla said. “You stay with her.”

The Siamese cats observed Katla with their blue eyes as she found a tray near the sink and brought it from the kitchen to the bedroom.

Bram placed the tray upside-down on the bed, gently took the girl’s ankles and stretched her legs. Anouk grimaced and clutched the eiderdown. With his hand on her back he rolled her carefully onto the upended tray. A shiver ran across the girl’s shoulders as her bare belly touched the cold tray.

Bram moved his hands over her spine.

“Take a deep breath,” he spoke, while he put his thumbs together with the fingers fanned out to the side. “And sigh.”

Near the end of her exhalation, Bram shifted his body weight. With a dull crack her vertebrae slipped back in place.

Anouk groaned. “Christ, that hurts.”

“Raise your arms over your head, I’ll turn you over.”

“You need help?” Katla asked.

“No, thanks, I can handle it.” Bram rolled the girl from the tray onto the bed.
 

While he handed her the tray, Katla noticed more tattoos; Japanese katakana to the right of the girl’s navel.
 

Anouk gave her a strained smile. “I’m sorry I caused so much trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” Katla said. “I didn’t mind.”

Bram directed her to the other side of the bed. Together they pulled the eiderdown from under Anouk and covered her with it. He fluffed a pillow and put it under her head, then said, “What happened?”

“Zeph was here and we smoked some doobie. He left and I undressed to go to bed. I threw my clothes on the chair.” She pointed with her chin at a chair with clothes. “My blouse slipped from the backrest and I leant over to snatch it up, when my spine clicked. I sat down on the bed before I could fall.” Anouk looked at her. “I didn’t know Bram was at your place. I was leaving a message when I had another spasm and the phone slipped from my grasp.”

“I’ll get you some water,” Bram said. “So you won’t have to get up.”

He left the room.

Anouk gave Katla an apologetic smile. “I envisioned our first meeting to be different.”

“Less dramatic, you mean?”

“Uhm, yes. And I’m not looking my best.”

Katla shrugged. “You don’t have to impress me.”

“I might want to try.” Anouk grinned. “Although Zeph told me not to bother.”

“He did?”

“Well, if a bullet doesn’t impress you…”

Katla leant on her cane. “That bullet made a deep impression.”

Bram entered the room with a bottle of water, which he put on the bedside table. “For when you get thirsty.” He turned to Katla. “I have an aikido class in less than six hours, so we better leave now.”

Anouk nodded. “Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” Bram replied. “Call me tomorrow if your spine still hurts.”

“Oh, my phone. It’s under the bed somewhere.”

Bram sank down on his knees and felt around, came back up with a phone, a battery and a battery lid.
 

Anouk put phone back together and switched it on. “It still works. Again, I’m sorry.”

Katla flashed her a smile. “You’ll have to impress me some other day.”

“Maybe I will,” Anouk replied and turned off the light.

-o-

Bram went straight to bed, but Katla stood by the window in her dark living room and gazed out over the buildings of Artis. The Reptile House with its muted green glow, the silvery trails of the footpaths.

Her gaze shifted focus and she compared her dim reflection with the image in her mind. The tattooed nude on the bed, glistening doe-like eyes looking up at her, her gaze containing more than idle curiosity. She knew that look all too well. There was no denying the arousal in Anouk’s eyes.

Katla turned from the window and limped to the bedroom, where Bram snored gently. She slipped under the covers and pushed her buttocks against his warm belly. His breathing changed and his sleep-heavy arm curled around her waist. She snuggled closer, his warm breath moist against the back of her neck, and closed her eyes. Thinking of ways to turn this new information to her advantage, she drifted off to sleep.

With his hands flat on his desk, Gene Zhang listened to Nicky’s report, his gaze fixed on the fingernails. Nicky finished and took an apologetic stance. He hoped Chen, standing behind him, did the same. If Chen was stupid enough to show amusement, Nicky wouldn’t save him. Not this time.

Zhang put his hands together and lifted his head. “Sphinx should’ve been ours.”

Nicky didn’t reply, but looked calmly into Zhang’s eyes, drawn to pinpricks in cold fury.

“We have a shipment of perishable goods waiting in Macao, Nicholas. And the Gizeh will sail the day after tomorrow. Lau has forty hours to correct his mistake.”

“We’re close to locating Sieltjes, Elder Brother. We’re tracking the taxi driver, so we know where he dropped her off.”

“Forty hours,” Zhang repeated. “Lau better not fail again.”

Chen and Nicky bowed and left the office.

-o-

The small man in the big chair looked up from his laptop and smiled at Nicky. “I have the information you requested.”

“You have her address, Feng?”

“Sieltjes expected to be followed.” Feng pointed at the laptop showing the GPS track. “I’m inclined to disregard the first stop.”

Nicky looked over his shoulder. “Why?”

“I put myself in her shoes. Java Eiland is a huge area, with many high rise buildings. And he stopped in the middle, so we’d have to consider her living anywhere within walking distance.”

“It is an affluent area,” Nicky said. “And the second stop?”

“He took a roundabout route to Artis.”

Chen looked over Feng’s other shoulder. “The zoo?”

“Which is closed at that time of night. After that he went to this place, opposite the Stopera, where he stayed for almost fifteen minutes. I guess that’s a taxi rank.”

“So she got out at the last spot? Artis?” Chen narrowed his eyes at the screen. “Or the Oostelijke Eilanden, right?”

“The taxi stopped in the middle, between KNSM Laan and the Java area. So she got out there, or Artis, or at the taxi rank.”

“And where is he now?” Nicky asked.

“At the 24-7 Texaco near the Sarphatistraat.” Feng smiled. “His lunch break, I guess. I think he’ll head back to the taxi rank near Stopera again.”

Chen nodded. “I’ll bring the car around.”

-o-

Taxi 234 came from Meester Visserplein and turned onto the taxi rank. Nicky had been sheltering against the rain under the canopy at the entrance of the Stopera. City Hall was closed, but the opera house part of the Stopera wasn’t, so it was still busy enough for the driver to feel safe. Even so, Nicky had opted to go alone. He crossed the bicycle path and walked up to the taxi. The driver was about his age, his dark hair slicked back, unshaven with dark smudges under his eyes.
 

Nicky opened the passenger door of the Mercedes and got in. “Hard night, pal?”

“Just tired,” the driver replied and started the car. “Where to?”

“Stopera,” Nicky replied. “So you might as well kill your engine.”

The driver turned the ignition key and the engine died. He looked Nicky up and down and said, “You’re looking for the woman I took to the harbour.”

“You know where she lives?”

“I picked her up at World Trade Center, where I dropped off another fare. After the meeting at the harbour, I dropped her off at Java Eiland.”

“Did you see where she went from there?”

“KNSM Laan.” The driver nodded to himself. “Pretty sure she went into the third building on the right.”

Nicky nodded with encouragement. “She paid cash?”

“Yes.” The driver smiled. “Good tipper, too.”

“So am I.” Nicky handed him a twenty. “So, after you dropped her off?”

“I came back here.”

That was not what the GPS tracker said. “You didn’t pick up another fare?”

“No, I came straight back here.”

So the woman left his taxi at Artis. Or he would’ve mentioned it.
 

Nicky smiled. “You’re a regular at this rank?”

“Yes, I am.”

“We’re still looking for the woman.” Nicky handed him an old business card. “If you see her again or manage to find out where she lives, give me a call.”

He got out and crossed the road to the car. Chen opened the passenger door and pulled away as soon as he got in. As they drove back to the restaurant, Chen looked sideways and said, “Did he object?”

“To being questioned?” Nicky shook his head. “He expected me. Or someone like me. I think Sieltjes warned him, he had his story down.”

“He didn’t know where he dropped her off?”

“He knew exactly where he dropped her off. Java Eiland.” Nicky smiled. “He saw her walk down the KNSM Laan and enter the third building on the right, then went straight back to this taxi rank.”

“Right. He waits and watches her walk to a building while he could’ve dropped her off at her front door?” Chen’s eyes twinkled. “Feng was right, that was a ruse.”

Nicky nodded. “He also lied about the location where he picked her up, and he failed to mention stopping at Artis.”

“Where did he pick her up?”

“WTC, where he just dropped off another fare.”

“WTC? Late in the evening, while she has no offices there?” Chen shook his head. “Highly improbable. You think he left her at Artis?”

“The zoo is closed at night. No reason to drop someone off at Artis unless they live in that neighbourhood.” Nicky shrugged. “I gave him incentive to call me if he had more info.”