Jaap’s watching Smit’s mouth move. He guesses that means he’s still talking, forming words – there’d been no reason to go through the funny sequence of movements otherwise – but for some reason he can’t hear them.
Because Smit started off with a word-grenade which exploded in Jaap’s head and now his ears are ringing in the aftermath.
His mind keeps going over what he’s been told, that Pieter Groot’s not lying, he couldn’t have killed Heleen as he had a rock-solid alibi for the time of her death.
Frank’s crew had been working hard on background, and found evidence which planted him miles away at the time of the murder.
‘Are you listening?’ Smit asks, the ringing tapering away from Jaap’s ears.
‘No,’ Jaap says, ‘I’m not.’
They’re in Smit’s office, sun layering through the window to Jaap’s left. He looks down, one foot is in the light, the other in shadow.
‘Least you’re honest,’ replies Smit. ‘I was asking, what now?’
Which is the question.
Jaap’s mind goes into overdrive, thinking of possibilities, a bright anger forming in him. He leaves the room, ignoring Smit’s call, and walks down the corridor. By the time he reaches the stairs he’s running, down three flights, to where Groot’s being held.
‘OK,’ he says as he kicks the door open and walks in, the anger more than bright now, it’s blazing, ‘you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on. Right now.’
But Groot’s got other plans. He may be cuffed and restrained, in a cell, facing a life in prison. He doesn’t have much control over his life, or what’s left of it. The one thing he does appear to have control over is whether he’s going to talk or not.
And it becomes clear that he’s decided he’s not saying another word.