and pulled out his weapon.
The person was in the hallway now and seemed to have stopped dead. Kees was working out if they could see the broken window from there but decided they wouldn’t be able to.
Then they started moving – two steps, three – and walked into the kitchen.
Kees slammed the door shut and pointed his gun.
The man jumped, spun round.
‘Fucking hell,’ he said, backing away from Kees until he bumped into the sink.
‘Where’s Isovic?’ said Kees, wondering if he should try out a smile again.
‘I … don’t know what you mean.’
He was about fiftyish, Kees thought. Short brown hair going grey, pale face and a suit which had probably once looked smart. But it didn’t disguise the fact that his body was lean and muscled. The guy worked out, that much was clear.
‘I want,’ said Kees advancing a step, ‘to know where Isovic is.’
‘I think there’s been a misunderstanding, I don’t know anyone called Isovic.’
Kees couldn’t quite place his accent, down south maybe.
‘You are?’
‘I own this place. It’s a rental. I’d had a complaint from a neighbour about the tenant. That’s why I’m here, to check it out. Can I put my arms down now?’
‘Keep them where they are. What’s the tenant’s name?’
‘Who are you?’
Kees fished out his ID and flashed it. The man squinted a bit, then nodded his head.
‘The tenant’s name is Osman Krilic – he’s been here for just over a year now.’
‘What does he do?’
‘My arms are getting tired.’
‘Tell me your name,’ said Kees.
‘Philip Hauer.’
‘With your left hand, throw me your driving licence.’
Hauer stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. He lowered his hand, fished around in his right pocket and pulled out a worn leather wallet.
‘I can’t get it out with only one hand,’ he said.
‘So do it over your head.’
Hauer did what he was told. Once extracted, he tossed the licence on to the breakfast bar. Kees stepped forward to pick it up. The guy wasn’t lying. Or he had a fake ID.
Kees tucked his gun into the back of his trousers, hitching his jacket over the handle once it was in place.
Fucking uncomfortable
, he thought.
But it looks good.
‘Catch,’ he said as he flipped the licence back to Hauer. ‘So, if I wanted to get hold of Krilic, and given that he’s not here and it looks like he left in a hurry –’ he pointed to the half-eaten burger ‘– what would you recommend?’
A tapping noise at the window made them both look across.
‘Are you okay?’
The face at the glass was hollowed out, the eyes dark rimmed.
Six months
, thought Kees.
Tops.
‘I’m fine,’ said Hauer. ‘I was just checking up. After you complained about the noise.’
‘When did you last see him?’ asked Kees, addressing the old man direct.
The face at the window looked at Kees, then shook his head.
‘He pretends to be deaf,’ said Hauer. ‘Which is odd ashe complained about shouting here earlier. Which kind of proves he can’t be.’
Kees moved towards the window and bent down so his face was right by the old man’s.
‘When did you see him?’ he asked with exaggerated care, loud enough to be heard through the glass.
‘About five minutes ago.’
‘I was here five minutes ago, and I didn’t see him.’
The old man nodded. Kees could see a car with a mattress tied to the roof inching along the road by the sea.
‘That’s because he ran away just as you arrived at the front door. I saw him jumping over the fence at the back. Him and another man I hadn’t seen before.’
10
Saturday, 8 May
18.21
‘Where are we at?’
Jaap hated having to give real-time progress updates. The fact that he had to give this one to Smit made it even worse. That’s why he’d chosen to do it over the phone.
‘Two bodies without a head. Someone on Twitter who knew about the killings, and there may be another one tomorrow.’
‘I saw all that on the news. What I’m asking is how close are you to
Learning to Kill: Stories