December 2024
Hendrik
HENDRIK TURNED TO the cold case detectives. In their rumpled suits and muddy shoes, the policemen looked as if they had spent the morning tramping around Wexalia. Get on with it, Brigadier Terpstra, he thought. I have things to do … important things.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Terpstra said, enunciating his words clearly, as if speaking to a child or a foreigner.
“Thank you. It was a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry to rake up painful memories.”
“Isn’t that what a cold case team does?”
“We try to get justice for the victims and closure for the families.”
“But you can’t bring Louisa back.”
“No.”
A silence fell.
Terpstra said, “I understand you’re an inventor. Is that correct?”
“Yes, I’m an engineer by profession. But I never worked after Louisa …” He didn’t know how best to finish the sentence. Disappeared? Died? Was killed? In his mind’s eye, he saw her standing on a stage and wearing a long beaded gown in a delicate shade of oyster, her golden hair curling around her broad shoulders.
“Will you walk me through the day your wife disappeared? I mean your first wife.”
Hendrik flinched. He didn’t need to be reminded which wife disappeared. “It’s in my statement.”
“You might tell me something new. A small thing could help. Give me as many details as possible, even if they seem irrelevant. It’s okay if you don’t remember everything, or if you get it wrong. That would be understandable after twenty years.”
Hendrik shut his eyes. He felt every minute of his sixty-six years, and he saw himself as he must appear to the detectives: a wealthy old man married to a much younger woman. He had married his first wife’s stepsister. The detectives must think he had murdered Louisa so he could marry Katja.
“Take your time,” the detective said.
Hendrik opened his eyes and repeated the well-worn story. “Louisa rose at seven to get ready for a run. She liked to run in the morning before it got hot. I went downstairs to make coffee. We drank a cup together. She left. Sometimes she stayed gone for hours, but this time she never came back.”
After a respectful silence, Terpstra said, “Was it raining? Sunny?”
“It wasn’t raining when she left.”
“Did she take her phone?”
Hendrik tensed. “No, she didn’t always.”
“Did Louisa run the same route every morning?”
“I don’t know.
“Were you a jogger too?”
“No.”
“What did you do when Louisa didn’t return?”
“We didn’t worry until lunchtime. We went out looking for her. I reported her missing that evening.”
“Why did you wait?”
“She was a grown woman. Not a missing child.”
Terpstra waited for his partner to catch up with note taking before continuing. “Tell me about the days leading up to her disappearance.”
“She taught piano at a summer school program in Lake Como. When the program ended, she joined us at the summerhouse. That was a couple of days before she disappeared.”
“Did she seem upset or worried?” Terpstra asked.
“No, she felt the summer school had been a success. She was in good spirits.”
Terpstra nodded. “How would you describe your marriage? Strong? Troubled?”
“I loved her.”
“She traveled a lot for her work. Do you think she was faithful?”
“I have no reason to suspect she wasn’t.”
“And you? Were there other women in your life?”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Hendrik said with a burst of emotion, half anger, half despair, which he immediately regretted.
“Answer the question, please.”
“No, there wasn’t anyone else.” He had been like a faithful old dog, waiting by a cold hearth for its master to return and lay a fire.
“Did you inherit money or property from Louisa? Or benefit from her life insurance policy?”
Hendrik bristled. “I made my own fortune, and I’m sure you know she didn’t have a life insurance policy.”
He wished that the interview would end. There was so little time, and yet its weight was crushing. Terpstra’s questions seemed endless and sometimes irrelevant. Hendrik felt like a fish hooked on a line. Each time he started swimming away under the mistaken belief he was free, Terpstra reeled him back in.
“Did you have a boat?”
“No.” It was a logical question. Whoever had buried Louisa on Lutine would have needed a boat. He wondered if the detectives planned to interview the dairy farmer.
“Thank you, Mr. Veldkamp. That’s all for now. Would you send Willem in, please?”
Hendrik found Willem waiting with Katja and Jurriaan in the kitchen, probably getting their stories straight.
“Willem, you’re next.”