Page 13 of The Nameless Ones

‘You.’

‘Yes, me.’

‘The question stands, maybe without the swearing: What is it?’

‘I think De Jaager may be in danger,’ said Louis, ‘and I can’t raise him or his people on their phones.’

‘How much danger?’ Hendricksen already sounded more awake.

‘The Serbian kind.’

Louis could hear Hendricksen breathing, marshaling his thoughts.

‘Is your phone secure?’ he said.

‘Is any phone secure?’ said Louis. ‘It will have to suffice.’

‘Perhaps I heard rumors down the years,’ said Hendricksen, ‘about the death of a Serb nicknamed Timmerman, a killer for the Zemun syndicate.’

‘Whatever you heard was probably true.’

‘They say he was killed by a black Muslim.’

‘Only fifty percent of that is true.’

‘But at the instigation of someone in the Netherlands.’

‘Certainly true.’

‘A mutual acquaintance?’

‘Again, true.’

‘Jesus.’

‘You asked.’

‘I did,’ admitted Hendricksen. ‘What do you know about the current situation here?’

‘Not enough.’

‘The Netherlands has become a narco state, and is now the logistical center for the world cocaine trade. There are huge amounts of money to be made, but the older generation doesn’t have the will or the ruthlessness to fight for its share. The graybeards are content to leave the shooting and maiming to the young, because otherwise they won’t live long enough to spend the loot they’ve set aside for their golden years. Whatever rules once applied in the Netherlands are relevant no longer. We have teenagers with guns being sent on assassination runs by men not much older than they are. Everyone is a target.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning I think perhaps you’re getting worked up over nothing. The Vuksan brothers, Spiridon and Radovan, who’ve been the dominant Serb influence in the Netherlands for the last four or five years, are passing on the torch. They’re not looking for trouble. I hear they’re jaded and want to go home. They’ve sent out signals to the Korps – the Dutch police – informing them that the Vuksans are not going to be a problem in the future. They may even have thrown a few bottom-feeders to the Korps as a gesture of goodwill, a parting gift tied up in a neat bow. It would make no sense for the Vuksans to go settling scores now.’

‘Depends on how you look at it,’ said Louis. ‘To a certain type of mind, now would be the perfect time to settle scores.’

Louis heard Hendricksen yawn.

‘I’m not in Amsterdam at the moment,’ said Hendricksen. ‘I’m in Paris. I’m not due to return to the Netherlands until tomorrow morning, but I can make some calls. I’ll let you know as soon as I have news.’

‘Likewise.’

Louis hung up. He tried each of the three numbers connected to De Jaager one more time, but to no avail. His own phone was now probably compromised, but he would hold on to it until he heard from Hendricksen.

Angel was right: he needed to sleep. He compartmentalized his worries, locking them away so they would not disturb his rest. Before he closed his eyes, he asked the dead girl from his dreams not to bother him.

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