After the Silence: Inspector Rykel Book 1 (Amsterdam Quartet) Read Online Free

feet slipping on the bricks as he started off. He made it to the corner, where the dodgy falafel joint was already pumping out grease into the morning air, mingling with the damp, herbal hit from the Coffeeshop four doors down. She was about ten metres ahead now, and running. Pushing harder he gained ground and was close enough to catch a blast of camphor.
    Must be from her coat
.
    She was just reaching Singel, heading for the bridge which would take her over into Dam Square, her coat flapping out behind her – thick seaweed in a strong tide – and he was nearly close enough to grab it as she flew across the road, not even looking from side to side.
    But as he followed, less than a metre behind, a van – its side an explosion of hippy rainbow print – slid in front of him, and he had to change direction quickly to avoid it.
    As he rounded the back, his hand slamming with ahollow thud against the metal, he could just see her head disappearing on the far side of the bridge when his view of the world flipped ninety degrees.
    His head smacked hard against the road and the person on the bike he hadn’t seen because of the van, sprawled on top of him.
    A screech ripped into his ears.
    Everything slowed.
    His head turned just in time to see a car tyre halt centimetres from his nose, kicking grit into his eyes.
    He could smell rubber.
    He tried to kick free, cursing, shouting, disentangling himself from the large woman who was crushing his legs, already screaming at him to look where he was going – and made it to his feet.
    But even after he’d half run, half limped over the bridge, winded as he was from the fall, his left ribs aching with each quick inhale, the shock of almost having his head crushed reverberating through his whole body, and his eyes blinking furiously in an effort to clear themselves, he could tell he’d lost her.

4
     
    Monday, 2 January
08.39
     
    ‘You called it in?’ asked Jaap, eyeing Kees’ face, a bruise flooding his right cheek, just under where his hair reached down to.
    ‘Yeah, did it already.’ Kees probed his cheekbone. His face was narrow, gaunt almost, and his eyes porcelain blue.
    Shame it wasn’t serious enough to get him reassigned
, thought Jaap.
    He’d just reached the top floor when he’d heard Kees’ shout and had run back down, still reeling from the name on the envelope.
    ‘We need to get on. The paramedic can look at it if you want.’
    Kees shook his head.
    ‘I’m fine, let’s just get on with it.’
    As they stepped back into the house Jaap tried Andreas again but just got voicemail.
    Where the hell is he?
he thought as they started to climb the stairs, wood creaking like a ship’s rigging.
    His partner’s text had said Friedman could be a way in, into the Black Tulips.
    Andreas found a connection between Friedman and the gang
, he thought
. But what is it?
    Two plastic suits were waiting for them as they reached the top. Jaap scanned the room, noticing the winch in the corner holding the end of the rope.
    ‘Give us a few minutes,’ he said to the forensics.
    They nodded as Jaap walked to the windows and looked out.
    The body was facing away from him, feet and calves swollen with blood, looking like they belonged to a fatter man. He could see hair, slicked down on the dead man’s head by the dew, the early morning light filling the tiny drops with colour. There was a poem he’d read in Kyoto, something about a world of suffering in each dew drop. He tried to remember it but gave up and turned back to the room.
    The rest of the loft was dominated by a cylindrical stove, the flue reaching up past the exposed wooden beams, breaking though the narrowest part of the sloped ceiling.
    Placing his hand on the rough, black surface of the stove he felt a remnant of heat. He bent down to look through the rounded glass door on the front. Soot encroached from the edges and a few glowing embers – satsumas packed in the grey ash – were all that remained of the fire.
    Jaap