A Way to Survive

CHAPTER 5

AMSTERDAM

January 2019

5

THE STATION HAD become endlessly gray to my ever-blurring vision. Gray walls, gray floor, gray sky. Even the black uniforms had started to fade in color, their edges bleeding into the gray nothingness until I couldn't tell the two apart. It had been over twenty hours since I last slept.

It hadn't taken long to make my statement. As soon as the clock hit five a.m. and someone finally picked up the office phone at my apartment, their security footage confirmed I left when I said I had. Cameras on a building near the Six Collection show the breaking glass while I'm still outside. Even the crotchety security guard gave me a sympathetic glance as we were led to separate interrogation rooms. But, finally, I was released, with the warning that I could be brought back any time, and I stumbled into the lobby, dazed and unsure of where to go next.

"Here," said someone behind me. I turn to see Korum, extending a Coke, still dripping from the cool interior of the vending machine.

"Caffeine," he said, apologetically. "They just need a couple more minutes, and then you can go home."

Home. The word sounded bizarre. After everything that had happened tonight, I had a pass to go back to bed and sleep it off like a bad dream, leave it behind in this colorless station, never to engage with it again. It was a tantalizing thought, as cool and sweet as the Coke, and I entertained it at the tip of my tongue before pulling back. How could I pretend this never happened?

"By the way," said Korum, "If you can wait for her for a few more minutes, Gracie wants to talk."

I did want to leave. I wanted to let Goldblum's Candy Dulfer records and our arguments over who's turn it was to do the dishes wash away the sting of last night, but the promise of meeting Gracie was arresting. I still couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to know what happened.

"I don't mind talking to her."

As Korum left, he held the door open for none other than Sai Malik. Sai looked at me, then he and Korum exchanged glances.

"I can't believe he's still here," he said, like I was invisible.

"What can I say," I mumbled, drily. "Couldn't turn down a field trip."

Sai shrugged, unruffled. "Can I have a sip of that?"

I privately wondered if Sai's parents had ever told him it was rude to insult someone and then ask them for a drink, but, defeated, I passed over the can, which Sai drained half of in one gulp.

"I'll trade you information for that," he said, ignoring my indignant yelp as he handed the considerably lighter can back. "Seeing as we had the misfortune of being on the scene of a murder."

"You think?" I asked sarcastically, spreading my arms to indicate the empty lobby we're standing in.

"I do," said Sai, without a hint of sarcasm.

"Well, I've fulfilled my end of the bargain. Where's my information?"

"How about a name?" Sai gestured for us to sit on one of the unwelcoming benches by the front doors. "Bernard van Rijn, 38. He was reported missing last week. His ID was in his pocket."

"It takes a lot for an adult to be reported as missing. What happened?"

"His sister said he didn't pick up her calls for a week, which is apparently unusual. Gracie is with her right now."

"No one had this conversation with her when she first reported him missing?" I asked, incredulously.

"It's a whole situation," said Sai. "Bernard was adopted. He's white; his sister is Thai. They thought she was bluffing about them being siblings, and laughed the entire thing off. The entire police department in the Hague is like that."

"You're shitting me."

"This happens all the time in New York, George. Are you seriously surprised?"

"Look," I said, standing up. "This has been some great information, but I would trade you, my lease and my college degree for something to eat."

Without missing a beat, Sai pulled an entire shrink-wrapped muffin out of his pocket, and placed it on the table adjacent to us, like he was unwilling to hand it to me. Before I could ask how the hell he fit that in there, I was interrupted again.

"I didn't know you had a gun." His eyes had taken on a firm look that closed any depth in their black pools.

"I don't. That was security's gun."

Sai gave me a brief one-over, then nodded. "Korum buzzed Gracie in. Let's see if she's in her office."

Gracie's office was just up a flight of dingy stairs and to the right of the common area, where the coffee machine was just starting to hum in anticipation of a long day. I could see her through the frosted pane of glass set in the door; she was talking on the phone, and she looked exhausted. Her pale blonde hair was pushing its way out of her hair tie, creating a halo of almost-white frizz. When Sai knocked, she vaguely gestured for us to come in.
"Can we speak in Dutch?" she asked, and Sai nodded. She swiftly changed languages, turning to address me.

"Why are you in Amsterdam? I thought Peter still worked in New York. We talked, just yesterday."

"School," I said. It was a half-truth; I could have finished school in New York, but I couldn't stomach going back to John Jay. "This is where my mother lived."

"So you're educated." Gracie twisted the phone cord around her finger. "Certified Criminal Investigator, OHSA Certified, degree in Criminal Justice."

"Excuse me?"

"Background checks are standard when you're a murder suspect. So what is a detective like you doing working at a restaurant?"

She was uncomfortably close to the soft edges that had formed the shape of my grief for so many years, and I had to resist taking a step back from her.

"I needed a break, I guess," I said. We were not going to address any of the underlying implications of that, unless someone in this room also happened to have a psychology degree.

She leaned back in her chair, arms folded across her chest, appraising me. "You were the one to find the crime scene, George. That means something, and I'd like to offer you the opportunity to find out why. Do you do consults?"

"What?" Sai and I said, in unison.

"I'm offering to let you help us with what you know. Anything helps in an investigation like this."

"I don't work with the police anymore," I said, an unexpected note of hostility creeping into my voice.

I just want you to think about it. In the meantime, both of you should get some sleep."

Sai and I both bid her a good day, and exited her office. The moment the door shut behind us, Sai cornered me on the landing.

"Listen," he said, "I'm onto you. Telling Gracie you don't work with the police? I call bullshit. I can see it in your eyes. You want to be at a crime scene again."

"Don't psychoanalyze me, Malik."

"I don't care if you're a psychopath or a weirdo. But I saw the look in your eyes this morning. You're going to figure something out sooner or later, and I'd rather you tell the police than your journal."

"I mean it. I don't trust the police."

"But you trust yourself."

"Save it for later, Dr. Malik. I'm going home."