A Cold Death in Amsterdam (Lotte Meerman Book 1) by Jager Anja de

Author:Jager, Anja de [Jager, Anja de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472120618
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2015-11-04T16:00:00+00:00

Stefanie showed no interest in Wouter’s art collection and walked straight past the paintings without stopping. She had already been waiting for me outside Wouter’s apartment building.

Wouter wore a Ralph Lauren polo-shirt over a pair of jeans. He had tidied up: there were no computer magazines all over the sofa any more and the PC that had been in the process of being built had disappeared. We went through the same questions as before. He described Anton’s car and told us his story again.

‘Did you see Anton?’ Stefanie asked.

Wouter shook his head. The slicked-back hair hardly moved and the curls at the back of his neck stayed in place. ‘I only saw the car.’ He lit up a cigarette and offered us one too. I was surprised when Stefanie refused. She probably didn’t think it was appropriate. ‘Then I heard that someone had been shot, and I told Piet about the car.’

‘OK. Let’s talk about what happened then.’ Stefanie got her notepad out to indicate that this was the part that she was actually interested in. ‘You gave a statement to DI Huizen?’

‘Yes, I came to the police station and signed it.’

‘Did you see what DI Huizen did with it?’

I wanted to stop her questions but couldn’t interrupt her. I should have known she would turn the questioning to my father again.

‘No, I didn’t,’ Wouter said. ‘It was typed up, I signed it and that was it.’

Stefanie took some notes.

‘Why do you ask?’ Wouter said. ‘Did something happen to my statement?’

I looked at her, willed her not to tell him, but she ignored my silent plea. ‘It’s gone,’ she said, ‘your witness statement. It’s not in any of the files.’

‘That bastard.’ Wouter grimaced. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to swear.’

Stefanie gestured to indicate that she was far from offended.

‘So that’s how he got away with it,’ Wouter said. ‘I always wondered why Anton was never arrested.’

‘I’ve got no further questions.’ I stood up.

‘Sorry to put you through this inconvenience,’ Stefanie said, ‘but we’ll need your statement again. I’ll type it up and maybe you can come to Amsterdam to sign it.’

‘Fine. Or can I sign it here – in Alkmaar.’

Stefanie shrugged. ‘Why not.’

Wouter got up and walked us to the door. Even on the way out Stefanie didn’t look at the art. I lingered by the painting of the dream world, admired its vibrant colours for a few seconds before shaking Wouter’s hand and following Stefanie down the stairs.

As she opened her car door she paused. ‘He’s a reliable witness,’ she said, ‘but there’s no way we’d get a conviction purely based on his evidence.’

I got my car keys out of my handbag.

‘Why was Anton so concerned about it?’ Stefanie mused. ‘I don’t understand why he paid Piet Huizen to get rid of those files.’

‘I don’t think he did.’

‘You’re right. Piet Huizen probably ripped up the witness statement straight away. But there must have been something else as well. Was there another witness, maybe? More evidence?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Strange.’ She got in her car and slammed the door shut.

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