The Sergeant's Cat by Janwillem Van De Wetering

Author:Janwillem Van De Wetering [Wetering, Janwillem Van De]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime Fiction / Mystery
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2015-06-30T19:38:57+00:00

Holiday Patrol

“I thought the Inner City rape/murder was being taken care of,” the police dispatcher said on the radio. “Constables Ketchup and Karate were going out there in their bus, but they haven’t reported back and now I can’t raise them. Anyone else available to take over?”

De Gier grabbed his microphone. “Detective Patrol fourteen-six here. Our position is Emperor’s Canal, corner Deer Alley. What’s up, Dispatcher?”

“Tourist female,” Dispatcher said, “speaking some kind of German, charges a tourist male with abusing her. Tourist female escaped from tourist male’s rented holiday apartment. She is in the street now. Female tourist claims male tourist has a gun.”

The radio voice was female, too—a warm voice, melodi­ous, with lilting tones slipping into affectionate innuendos.

Detective-Sergeant de Gier, of the Amsterdam Municipal Police, on surveillance duty, behind the wheel of an unmarked vehicle commanded by Detective-Adjutant Grijpstra, groaned his appreciation. While the dispatcher’s vocal femininity filled the small car, he even closed his eyes for a moment.

“Hey!” Grijpstra shouted.

De Gier woke from his trance. Their white unmarked Fiat Panda narrowly missed driving into Emperor’s Canal.

“I knew that dispatcher’s voice would cause trouble.” Grijpstra took the microphone from the sergeant as the Fiat veered back from the canal’s edge.

Earlier on that evening, Grijpstra had commented on the dispatcher’s voice.

“All that lovey-doveyness gets in the way. I bet you there’s nothing to back it up either.” Grijpstra cleared his throat furi­ously. “Just like in that late-night nude show on AIR, your favorite station, Sergeant.”

“Amsterdam Illegal Radio?” de Gier asked. “That won­derful silver voice talking about what she does in Art Deco bed­rooms, in the elegant Old South district?”

Adjutant Grijpstra’s forefinger prodded Sergeant de Gier’s biceps. “You know I checked that radio show out? That I lo­cated a bunch of derelicts using secondhand equipment in a drafty loft in Mad Nun Alley? That I threatened to shut their operation down? That I didn’t because the outfit is pathetic? You want to know why? Are you ready to accept the fact that the voice of your nude show’s star performer, she with the naughty little-girlie/Lorelei tones, belongs to a lumpy fifty-year old with fogged-up glasses?”

“Mature and sexy,” de Gier said. “So?”

Grijpstra grunted furiously. “The voice may be sexy, the reality is pure dog.”

“I like pure dog.” De Gier smiled happily. “And I am adult enough to appreciate older women.”

They drove in silence for two blocks.

“You should read Police Weekly.” The sergeant kneaded

Grijpstra’s shoulder. “Last week’s issue had an article on What the Adult Male looks for in his Search for a Partner.”

“Bah,” Grijpstra said.

“Bah what?” De Gier smiled. “You’re still stuck on firm flesh? The prime sexual desire, Adjutant, in the mature male, isn’t for physical penetration of a junior madonnaesque body. In the older male, interest in spiritual aspects appears. It’s love and affection men like you and me are after. It’s the safe feeling we cherish, it’s mutual caring we are in want of . . .” De Gier’s smile widened. “It’s the ability to caress the beloved’s feet with our own before falling asleep that we crave.

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