A Way to Survive

CHAPTER 11

AMSTERDAM

January 2019

11

GRACIE CHECKED HER watch and shook her head. It was 9:17pm and there was still no sign of either George or Sai. Dinner has been on since nine, in the private meeting room of the hotel. It was nothing fancy; stacks of sandwiches, those slim plastic bottles of soda and a couple of bananas, but it seemed to work for the hungry police force she was tasked with feeding tonight. She glanced at the table of people and sighed. She wanted to get started, but the begrudging voice in her head reminded her that if she'd told Sai and George she'd take them, it was fair to wait for them.

Justin wandered up behind her, chewing on the end of a baguette. "God, this is fantastic. All I've eaten for a week is hotel food."

"Your standards must be low," Gracie informed him, "If a slice of plain bread is fine cuisine to you."

Justin shrugged, unbothered. "I have a kid. I don't eat fancy food anymore. If she likes this stuff, I do."

Gracie smiled, despite herself. "Well, since you know so much about parenting, maybe you'll know how to handle George and Sai. They've just disappeared."

"Disappeared? The ones right behind you?" He nodded at the door, and Gracie turned in time to see a damp looking George and Sai trudge in. She rushed over, ignoring Justin's laughter behind her.

"Where the hell have you been? I'm your boss, not your babysitter. You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago."

George had the decency to look a little ashamed. "I'm sorry we're late. We had to make a detour."

"A detour long enough to miss my meeting," sighed Gracie, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Tell me about it later. For now, get some food and sit down, I want to get started." She turned and headed to the front of the room.

"All right, everyone," she said, clapping her hands together. "I am very obligated to all of you today, and I'm glad everyone's had a chance to eat. I'd just like to quickly talk about what has happened and where we'll go from here.

"As you all know at this point, we had a death this morning. When she was taken into the coroner's custody, she was positively identified as Christina Wyngatten, a twenty-six year old woman. As of now, we are trying to get into contact with friends or family members to get insight on her mindset around the time of her death, but evidence such as zip tie marks and a stab wound leave us with little doubt that this was not an accident or suicide. The only person we have positively gotten in contact with is her boyfriend, who will be coming to the station tomorrow to give a complete statement. He has requested that a full autopsy be performed on Christina to search for underlying foul play. Now, I am opening the floor for any questions or comments thus far, and we'll figure out what everyone will be doing in the next few days."

Lazarus raised his hand. "I am not involved in the official inquest, but I think it is important to note that Christina suffered a blunt force trauma injury and was found with an inhaler in the pockets of her clothing. The fact that she has asthma is likely not relevant, but the trauma- that may be significant, depending on how soon before the death it was committed, and who did it. It may be important to find out if the boyfriend was in any way involved with the injury."

After Lazarus' remarks, it was quiet. "Sai, George, I'll talk to you two alone," said Gracie. "Ames, you and your team will remain on forensic analysis. Justin and I will handle the boyfriend. If that's all there is, all of you finish dinner and get a good night's sleep. It won't be a very busy week, so just do what you need to do and do it well."

There was a murmur of assent around the room, and everyone broke off, either to head out for the night or to pick over the dwindling piles of food. Gracie headed to the back of the room where George and Sai had unplugged the meeting room computer and shoved everything to the side to make way for an absolutely disgusting box they'd lugged in with them.

"All right, you two. Are you going to tell me what you've found?"

The two exchanged wary, almost conspiratorial glances, and Gracie began to regret leaving the two of them alone.

"Do you want to help us go through these?" asked Sai. "It would be easier to explain if we find what we think we're looking for."

Before she knew it, it was midnight, the room was empty, save for herself, George and Sai, their sleeves rolled up, sorting through a few hundred disorganized pamphlets.

"Pamphlets, of all things," Gracie said in despair, for what must be the hundredth time. "And you just walked into the gallery and helped yourselves?"

"He gave them to us," said George, a bit defensively.

"So tell me why it means something. We can't just run willy nilly using our badges to get things every time something occurs to us."

"The painting," said George. "I told Sai that Bernard and Rembrandt had the same surname, and he told Justin. Then we found out today, just when we found another body, that Bernard had painted an imitation of that exact painting a few years ago. The person who bought it is an accused rapist, and her victim died the same year. I have no idea what any of this means, but I think we need to find out.

"Names, George. I need names."
"Remy Andres, the art collector. Lennon McGuire is the dead man, and her victim."

"Was this investigated by our people?"
"It was reported not long before Lennon died in 2015," said George. "It would have been before you were chief.
"All right. We have a potential rapist who is still alive, connected to the dead man. A victim of theirs turns up dead."

"It was suicide," George answered. "Or, at least that's what it appeared to be at the time." The implication hung heavy in the air between them. A suicide, five years before Christina's death; but could it had been something different?

"Well," said Gracie, "Dirk Joergen is a competent officer of the law. I believe that if he looked into this suicide he would be able to tell if it was murder or not."

Just then, Sai's head shot up. "Take a look at this." He handed Gracie a glossy pamphlet, marked as being from July 2015. Bernard's name was on the list of artists; but perhaps more interesting, just a few spaces below it, was another familiar one.

Lennon McGuire