Into the Night: Inspector Rykel Book 2 (Amsterdam Quartet)

Into the Night: Inspector Rykel Book 2 (Amsterdam Quartet) by Jake Woodhouse Read Free Book Online

Book: Into the Night: Inspector Rykel Book 2 (Amsterdam Quartet) by Jake Woodhouse Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jake Woodhouse
the guy had just managed to nick a police jacket from somewhere.’
    ‘Me too. But I checked those calls, the ones to the woman’s phone?’
    He nodded.
    ‘They traced back to here. Someone made them from this building.’
    ‘Seriously?’ said Smit, breathing out. ‘That’s the kind of shit I can do without.’ He shook his head. ‘Any way of working out who?’
    ‘Not that I can see. We don’t have cameras in any of the offices, only the cells and interrogation rooms. I can get the tech team to see if they can pinpoint a specific computer, but I don’t think they can.’
    I should have said ‘someone’, not ‘I
’, she thought.
    Smit pulled open a drawer in his desk, took out a pot of hand cream and dabbed it on his palms, rubbing it in slowly, before working his way up each finger. Fully moisturized, he replaced the pot and slid the drawer shut.
    ‘You were right. I don’t want to brief anyone on this.’
    He worked a bit of stray cream around one of his cuticles.
    ‘Normally in this kind of case I’d be obliged to let the Ministry of Justice know – they’d send their own team out to investigate – but …’ he tailed off.
    ‘I think that’s best. The thing is, I’m actually on leave already. I’m going away with some friends.’
    The same lie I told Jaap
, she thought.
At least I’m keeping it consistent.
    Smit was looking out the window. He didn’t give any sign that he’d actually heard her.
    ‘The problem is, getting an internal investigation team in is really unpopular. I’ve seen it done before, and it justcreates chaos. I’d be much happier if you could go forward with this. Treading carefully, of course.’
    ‘I’m not sure that would be a good idea, and like I said, I’m supposed to be on—’
    ‘And I don’t want you saying a word to anyone about this. You report only to me. Is that clear?’
    Smit stood up, glanced at his watch. He shuffled a few things around on his desk, placing a pen on top of a pile of paper. Adjusted it until it was at the perfect angle.
    ‘And this cannabis farm thing,’ he said as if mollifying her. ‘Let’s just sit on it for now. Concentrate on the killing, then we’ll go back to it.’
    He stood up, still no eye contact.
    ‘I’ve got to get going now,’ he said as he went to the door, holding it open for Tanya.
    ‘But what about my leave?’
    He looked at her as if she’d suddenly popped up out of the floor.
    ‘All leave’s cancelled,’ he said. ‘As of now.’
    As she stepped out into the corridor, Smit closing the door on her heels, she could tell she hadn’t played it right.

9
    Saturday, 8 May
17.57
    After all the shitty luck he’d been having, Kees finally got a break.
    Or thought he had. It was only the third place he’d visited, and the people working there had never heard of anyone called Isovic.
    So they said.
    But Kees could see they were lying.
    He was in a shabby office out back. Unusually for a garage, there wasn’t a calendar featuring a semi-naked woman hanging from the wall. A window looked over a grimy work area, where three cars were hiked up on large platforms so that men in overalls could do things to their undersides.
    The desk in front of him looked post-Hiroshima.
    The guy behind it looked even worse.
    ‘But I tell you before, I don’t know this man you keep talking about.’
    ‘The thing is,’ Kees looked at the guy’s name badge but was unable to read it because of the black grease which seemed to permeate the whole place. ‘I think you do.’
    Kees sought out the man’s eyes, but he ducked them away.
    Metal hitting concrete clanged out from behind him. One of the mechanics cursed. A tinny radio was playing in the background, periodically obscured as one of the cars was revved up. Kees caught diesel fumes.
    ‘It’s simple,’ said Kees, figuring that the guy in front of him probably wouldn’t understand the finer points of Dutch law. ‘You don’t tell me where I can find Isovic, then I’ll

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