The Inspector and Silence Page 8

VV:

  Now listen here. Your church is based upon three principles. Prayer, self-denial and purity. I ask you to explain one of these principles, and you choose to remain silent. What the hell do you expect me to think?

  UF:

  You can think whatever you like. It’s up to every individual to decide how to deal with the big questions, and what to make of their lives.

  The chief inspector reached out his hand and switched off the tape recorder.

  Why do I lose control so quickly? he wondered.

  Is it just the heat and the feeling of impotence, or is there more to it? He pressed fast forward; the rest of the conversation with Ulriche Fischer had proceeded with neither of them trusting the other, he was well aware of that, and nothing had emerged that could support the theory that a girl had disappeared.

  It took him some time to find the right place on the tape. Before continuing he finished his simple meal and lit a cigarette. Adjusted the pillows and leaned back in order to concentrate better on the conversation with Mathilde Ubrecht. It was a bit more fruitful, he suspected. But perhaps not so much.

  It depended what you were looking for, of course.

  MU:

  My name is Mathilde Ubrecht. Thirty-six. I work for the Pure Life church.

  VV:

  Thank you. Do you know why I want to talk to you?

  MU:

  I think so.

  VV:

  The police have been tipped off that a girl has disappeared from the camp. Do you understand that we have to investigate that information?

  MU:

  Yes. But nobody has disappeared.

  VV:

  You’re sure of that?

  MU:

  Yes.

  VV:

  May I ask you a hypothetical question?

  MU:

  Please do.

  VV:

  If it was in the interests of your church, would you feel able to tell lies in a police cross-examination or in a court?

  MU:

  I don’t understand the question.

  VV:

  All right, I’ll re-word it. If Oscar Yellinek urged you to say certain things to me, would you do so even if you knew they were lies?

  MU:

  I don’t believe that Yellinek would do such a thing.

  VV:

  What do you think of Oscar Yellinek?

  MU:

  He’s a great man.

  VV:

  What do you mean by that?

  MU:

  He is in contact with Eternal Life and the One True God. It is a blessing to be in his vicinity.

  VV:

  Do your fellow sisters think the same way?

  MU:

  Of course.

  VV:

  I see. And your confirmation candidates?

  MU:

  I’m sure they do. You notice it as soon as you come into close contact with him.

  VV:

  Really? Can you give me an idea of the form the teaching takes?

  MU:

  Yellinek talks to the girls. We pray together. We try to cast out evil thoughts and purify ourselves.

  VV:

  How?

  MU:

  In various ways. By means of certain exercises. By prayer. By letting ourselves go . . .

  VV:

  What do you do when you let yourselves go?

  [Silence for a few seconds.]

  MU:

  I don’t want to talk about this with outsiders. It’s easy to misunderstand. You have to be initiated in order to see it in the right way, it needs training . . .

  VV:

  Do you make love to Oscar Yellinek?

  MU:

  We live in intense harmony and intimacy.

  VV:

  Even sexually?

  MU:

  We are biological beings, Chief Inspector. We don’t impose the same limits as you do, that’s the difference between the Pure Life and the Other World.

  VV:

  The Other World?

  MU:

  The world you live in.

  VV:

  What have you to say about Yellinek being in prison for indecency and other crimes?

  MU:

  Jesus Christ was crucified to redeem our sins.

  VV:

  Do you compare Oscar Yellinek with Jesus Christ?

  MU:

  Of course.

  [Another, quite long silence, apart from a noise that sounded like a heavy stone being pushed over the floor. It was some time before Van Veeteren realized that it wasn’t a stone, but a groan. Coming from him.]

  VV:

  Do your confirmands also live in intense harmony and intimacy with Oscar Yellinek?

  MU:

  Of course not. Not in the same way.

  VV:

  But the girls are sometimes naked in his presence.

  MU:

  It’s not the way you think it is, Chief Inspector. We are surrounded by ill will and slander, just like . . .

  VV:

  Like what?

  MU:

  Just like the first Christians.

  VV:

  So you compare yourselves to the first Christians?

  MU:

  There are a lot of similarities.

  [Silence. Then the scraping sound of a chair. A match being lit and then blown out.]

  VV:

  Thank you, Miss Ubrecht. I don’t think I have any more questions to ask you.

  ‘For Christ’s sake!’ muttered the chief inspector, hopping over the conversation with Madeleine Zander, the woman he had spoken to the first time he visited Waldingen. I can’t face the same drivel all over again! he thought. The only things about her that were different from the others were that she had been a member since the very start, and that she had been married. Madeleine Zander was the eldest of the three – forty-six years old – and she had a grown-up daughter from a marriage that presumably lasted just long enough to conceive her and bring her into the world, the chief inspector thought.

  Well, not really thought: hoped, rather.

  Later – in the car on the way back to Sorbinowo – he had tried to recapitulate and home in on any signs of disharmony between the three women – envy, jealousy or something of that sort – but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t recall any such indications in his interviews.

  But then again, he had hardly set out to trap them. On the contrary. He had behaved in a friendly and gentlemanly manner all the time. Just as he always did. So perhaps it was best not to pass judgement.

  That could apply to the whole of this damned business, he thought. If it were just a crime novel, it would probably be best for it to remain unwritten – it contained so little of substance.

  Mind you, the same could be said of rather a lot of things.

  However, here he was, no matter what. Two hundred kilometres from Maardam and eleven days from Crete.

  There are waiting rooms and there are waiting rooms, he had just read in Klimke’s meditations. But trains no longer run from most stations.

  He decided to investigate that situation as far as Sorbinowo was concerned. He had only seen the station from a distance, but it hadn’t seemed especially lively.

  Just as an indication, that is.

  He had spoken to two of the girls, and after some thought had chosen to take them together rather than separately. Perhaps that was a symptom of weariness, and perhaps it indicated that he was on the way to giving up – but after Yellinek and his three pale slaves, what could one expect?

  He located the right place on the tape, and started it running.

  VV:

  Would you like to tell me your names – speak loudly so that you can be heard on the tape.

  BM:

  Belle Moulder.

  CH:

  Clarissa Heerenmacht.

  VV:

  Do you know why I want to speak to you?

  [Silence. Van Veeteren remembered that the girls had exchanged glances
before they both shook their heads in unison.]

  VV:

  I’m from the police. It’s about that girl who’s disappeared from the camp. Can you tell me what happened?

  BM:

  Nobody’s disappeared.

  CH:

  Everybody’s been here all the time.

  VV:

  How many of you are there?

  CH:

  Twelve.

  VV:

  But there were thirteen to start with, weren’t there?

  [Short pause.]

  BM:

  There’s been twelve of us all the time. Stop trying to trick us.

  VV:

  All right, if you say so. Can you tell me a bit about what you do here during the day?

  CH:

  We do all sorts of things.

  VV:

  Such as?

  BM:

  We go swimming, play games. We have discussion classes and group work and so on.

  VV:

  You like being here?

  BM:

  Yes.

  CH:

  It’s a really fab camp.

  BM:

  Lots of people think we do lots of strange things here at Waldingen, but we don’t in fact.

  VV:

  What do people think you do?

  BM:

  I’ve no idea. But we have a great time anyway. We learn lots of terrific things.

  VV:

  Really. Can you give me a few examples?

  BM:

  Well, we learn what’s important in life, how to live together with others, and things like that.

  CH:

  How to be a good person, and have a pure soul.

  VV:

  And how do you get a pure soul?

  CH:

  You get rid of all wicked thoughts.

  VV:

  How do you do that?

  CH:

  There are lots of ways. You have to be really, really careful – there’s evil everywhere.

  BM:

  We’re not supposed to talk about things like this.

  CH:

  No . . .

  VV:

  But I’m interested in learning.

  BM:

  Then you should talk to Yellinek.

  VV:

  Why?

  BM:

  It’s not good for us to talk about these things. We are learning important things, and you come from the Other World.

  VV:

  The Other World?

  BM:

  Yes.

  VV:

  What’s that?

  BM:

  The Other World is everything that isn’t the Pure Life.

  VV:

  You don’t say. And how long have you been members of this church?

  CH:

  How long? Er, forever.

  BM:

  Since we were very little, at least.

  VV:

  So your parents are also members, are they?

  BM:

  Of course. Our brothers and sisters as well. We’re sort of chosen.

  VV:

  I see. How old are you?

  BM:

  Fourteen.

  CH:

  Twelve . . . Nearly thirteen.

  VV:

  Do you go to the Pure Life school as well?

  BM:

  Did do. I’ve been going to an ordinary school for a year now.

  CH:

  I’ll be starting an ordinary school in the autumn.

  BM:

  You think there’s something odd about us, don’t you? It’s always the same. What is it you’re trying to find out?

  CH:

  We’re having a fab time here at Waldingen.

  VV:

  So I’ve gathered. I suppose it must be hard, going to school in the Other World?

  CH:

  We have to learn what to do in the Other World as well. How to behave.

  BM:

  But I don’t think we should talk about that with you either.

  VV:

  Have you been told what you may and may not talk to me about?

  [Silence. A warning look from the elder girl at the younger, if he remembered correctly.]

  CH:

  No . . .

  VV:

  You don’t sound sure.

  BM:

  Nobody’s told us anything. But we know anyway.

  VV:

  I see. But there must be some girls who aren’t enjoying the camp as much as you seem to be doing?

  BM:

  Everybody’s having a great time.

  VV:

  Everybody?

  BM:

  Why are you asking? Obviously somebody might get a bit sad now and again. Is that so odd?

  CH:

  I know everybody thinks it’s great here. What we are doing and learning is important.

  VV:

  Can you tell me a bit about the three basic principles, prayer, purity and self-denial?

  CH:

  Those are the basic principles, sort of. That’s what everything is based on.

  VV:

  What is meant by purity?

  CH:

  You have to be pure when you meet your God, but I think—

  BM:

  You don’t understand all this. If you’re not a member of the church, you shouldn’t start asking lots of questions.

  VV:

  Do you have to be naked in order to be pure?

  CH:

  Yes . . . No.

  BM:

  No, you don’t have to be, and anyway it’s nothing to do with you.

  VV:

  Do you have visitors?

  BM:

  No, it’s not good to have visitors when we’re busy learning.

  VV:

  But you phone home now and then, I suppose?

  CH:

  We don’t phone, because—

  BM:

  We write letters. That’s just as good.

  VV:

  So you’re not allowed to use the telephone?

  CH:

  I suppose we might be, but we don’t.

  VV:

  What’s the name of the girl who was only here at the beginning?

  CH:

  Eh? What do you mean by that?

  BM:

  I think you should stop being so rude. You are accusing us of lots of things you have no idea about. It’s cowardly of you to attack us like this.

  VV:

  Why don’t you have any boys in your church?

  BM:

  Of course we have boys in the Pure Life, but not at this camp. They have one of their own. I don’t think we want to talk to you any more now.

  [Five seconds of silence. The sound of chairs scraping.]

  VV:

  All right. Let’s leave it at that. Run away and wash your souls, and tell that Yellinek to look up Isaiah 55:8.

  BM:

  Eh?

  VV:

  There’s a book called the Bible. I thought you were familiar with it.

  CH:

  Isaiah?

  VV:

  Yes, 55:8. So, off with you now, and wash yourselves clean!

  He stopped the tape and slumped back onto the pillows. Lay there motionless for several minutes, searching for a way of putting into words the emotions careering around inside him.

  Or a metaphor at least.

  But there was nothing. Nothing occurred to him, and no thoughts crystallized in his brain. Only the word ‘impotence’, which was beginning to feel like an old acquaintance by this time. A disconsolate, ancient relative determined not to die, but who refused to be cast out – perhaps because of the very relationship.

  He sighed. Noted that the bottles of beer were unfortunately empty and stood up. Went over to the window and looked out over the lake, where the last canoeists of the day were mooring at the jetties. It was a few minutes after half past nine, and shades of blue were busy transforming the evening l
ight into mellow summer darkness.

  A July night, Van Veeteren thought. ‘A summer night’s no time for sleep’, or something along those lines – who had written that?

  No matter, the thought had merit. A little evening stroll and a glass of white wine seemed to be in order. To help him shake off the thought of that old acquaintance, if nothing else.

  And to help him make up his mind to leave here. There was no longer any substantial reason for him to continue this putative investigation. The debt he owed Malijsen could surely be considered paid – no matter how you calculated it – and it was hard to see any rational reason for launching more attacks on the Waldingen camp. No matter how hard one might try to find one.

  Mind you, perhaps old Borkmann had a point when he used to claim that: Reason has an elder sister, never forget that. She’s called Intuition.