On The Offensive by Kerry J Donovan

Author:Kerry J Donovan [Donovan, Kerry J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-16T16:00:00+00:00

23

Thursday 1st June – Early Morning

Indische Buurt, Amsterdam, The Netherlands.

A cool-headed Kaine sipped his third cappuccino, finished his second buttered croissant with honey, and dabbed his lips with a paper napkin. The door he’d been watching since the café had opened at six-thirty finally cranked inwards and his quarry hobbled through the opening, leaning on the black cane.

Kaine read the time off his watch. 08:13.

Early today. Poor man must be hungry.

He studied Jan van Bleeker as he limped from his apartment along the pavement and all the way to the crossing place where he gave way to the red “Don’t Walk” light. If anything, the lapidary leant even more heavily on his cane than the last time Kaine witnessed his stuttering progression from the apartment block to the café. He wore the same baggy black trousers as before, but had changed the capacious grey sweater for an equally large one in bright yellow. Van Bleeker paused at the crossroads for a tram. As the grey steel tram passed in front of the bright yellow sweater, the reflected light dimmed in much the same way as it would during a solar eclipse.

Van Bleeker nodded to a passer-by and the two stopped at the crossing for a brief chat before van Bleeker laughed and pointed towards the café. The passer-by, an angular man in his fifties with close-cropped hair, clapped the round man on the shoulder and hurried off. Meanwhile van Bleeker continued on his faltering way in the opposite direction, still smiling. Apart from the obvious discomfort given by his right knee, van Bleeker looked as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

Once again, the image of Molly Williams lying dead in a filthy bed in a French bungalow and a distraught Micah kneeling in front of her drove a skewer through Kaine’s heart.

Calm down, Kaine!

Kaine tried not to scowl at van Bleeker’s slow advance and lowered his eyes to study his paper.

Van Bleeker crossed the cycle lane, advanced along the pavement, shuffled into the café, and waited in line to place his order. Five people stood ahead of him in the queue.

Time to go.

Kaine folded his paper and dropped it on the table. He stood and exited the café, turning right after pushing through the door. He continued at a brisk pace until he’d passed the café’s window, where he slowed to a saunter. At the first junction, he crossed the road and studied the goods on offer at a jewellery shop—eyeing a small silver bracelet that a certain vet-turned-medic might appreciate—and waited. Two minutes and five departing customers later, van Bleeker eased through the café door, clutching his paper bag of pastries and a large takeout mug of what would be overly sweetened coffee, assuming van Bleeker remained true to form. The lapidary could easily be described as a creature of habit.

In no condition to rush, van Bleeker took his time checking for traffic before recrossing the road. Kaine turned his back on the silver bangle in

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