From Bruges with Love (24 page)

“OK. I can't see Beekman raising any objections. But what do we do with Aerts?”

“Aerts confessed he was an accessory,” said Van In. “I have his signed statement right here. With a bit of luck, they'll let him off.”

He fished Aerts's statement from his inside pocket. “Our friend knows the law. He handed himself over more or less voluntarily, and he's asking for a reduced sentence. He claims he was forced to do what he did. And anyone who might have testified against him is dead, don't forget. No big deal. The real culprits have been tried and convicted.”

Hannelore read Aerts's statement while Van In uncorked a bottle of Moselle and planted himself next to his snoring sergeant.

“Didn't you say Dani had a breast augmentation in 1986?” said Hannelore after a few minutes of reading.

Van In was struggling hard not to fall asleep. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

Hannelore reread the passage. “But Aerts claims here that the incident took place in October 1985.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Van In cursed.

“What?”

“If that's right, then the little fucker screwed me over.”

William Aerts watched the evening news in his cell. The entire country was up in arms after news broke that the minister of foreign affairs had been shot dead while making a snuff movie. Aerts realized the game was over. The courts would never let him go until every detail of his statement had been verified a hundred times.

Jos Brouwers arrived home to the sumptuous villa he had bought only a year before. The purchase was the realization of his final dream. The house was to be the ultimate status symbol, a visible climax to a successful career, and an ode to Gerda, who had taken care of him for so many years. In that order. But Gerda was never going to see the place again. She had packed her bags two weeks earlier, fed up, she said, of living a life in the shadows. There was no point in trying to catch up on lost time. She felt she had a right to her own life. The trip to the Caribbean had been a lie, something he'd made up for Vandaele because he'd rather have dropped dead than admit she'd left him and his marriage was a failure. Brouwers pictured the couple on the coach in Malta, the man pouring a glass for his wife, both of them waving, both of them perfectly happy. Even Brooks was better off. At least he had the sensual Penelope when he needed her.

Brouwers poured himself a cognac and opened the safe. He selected an Israeli revolver from the arsenal he stored it in, a collector's item worth twenty-five thousand francs. Brouwers threw back the cognac, pressed the barrel of the revolver against the roof of his mouth, and pulled the trigger. His last thought was about the future owners of the villa. His brains would be splattered all over the wall and they would have to repaper the living room.

Van In shook Versavel and woke him up. “Work to be done, Guido.”

Hannelore hung up the phone. She had first called Beekman and then the director of the prison. “We can question Aerts in fifteen minutes,” she said enthusiastically.

William Aerts was accompanied to the visitors' room by three prison guards. He had suddenly acquired dangerous criminal status. Aerts abhorred the hollow sound of his own footsteps. He was about to face Van In, and the time of the interrogation hadn't been chosen at random. The commissioner knew that he'd lied. The entire movie replayed in his head as he walked through the corridors of the prison. Provoost had called him that evening. There had been an accident. Dani was dead. William had to get rid of the body, and Vandaele had agreed to pay him one hundred thousand francs for his services.

William dragged the corpse to his car and opened the trunk. When he was about to slam it shut again, he heard a groan. Dani was still alive. William made him an offer. If he kept his mouth shut and went back to the Netherlands, he would give him one hundred thousand. Everything went fine until Dani reappeared six months later and demanded more money for another operation. If William refused to pay, Dani threatened to put pressure on Provoost. In an attack of panic William grabbed hold of the transsexual and in the scuffle broke his neck. He buried the corpse on the grounds of the Love. He was now free to continue blackmailing Provoost and Brys.

Van In parked the Twingo in front of the prison. There was a clear sky above, with thousands of stars doing their best to dispel the darkness.

“By the way,” said Hannelore when she got out of the car. “I forgot something in all the commotion.”

Van In locked both doors. “Did you leave the iron on?” he asked with a grin.

Hannelore knew her husband. She liked his unique sense of humor and the way he reacted in exceptional circumstances. “No,” she smiled. “The result of the amniocentesis was negative. If everything goes according to plan, we'll have a healthy baby in a few months.”

Van In took a last cigarette from the pack. The smoke made his eyes water. Or did he imagine it?

About the Author

P
ieter Aspe is the author of the Pieter Van In Mysteries. Aspe lives in Bruges, Belgium, and is one of the most popular contemporary writers in the Flemish language. His novels have sold over one million copies in Europe alone.

B
rian Doyle was born in Scotland in 1956 and is currently a professor at the University of Leuven in Belgium. In addition to teaching, he has translated a wide variety of books from Dutch and Flemish into English. In addition to the Pieter Van In Mysteries, his recent book projects include Jef Geeraerts's
The Public Prosecutor
(2009), Jacqueline van Maarsen's
Inheriting Anne Frank
(2010), Christiaan Weijts's
The Window Dresser
(2009), Tessa de Loo's
The Book of Doubt
(2011), Paul Glaser's
Dancing with the Enemy
(2013), and Bob Van Laerhoven's
Baudelaire's Revenge
(2014). He also translates poetry and literary nonfiction.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Translated from
De kinderen van Chronos
, copyright © 1997 by Pieter Aspe

Translation copyright © 2015 by Brian Doyle

Cover design by Mauricio Díaz

978-1-4976-7468-4

Published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com