The Mind-Murders Read Online Free Page A

part of the counter, walked through the opening, and carefully took hold of one ear of each constable. He pulled in opposing directions. The constables pulled back and squeaked. "Eee-ee-ee-ee."
    "Louder."
    "Eee-ee-ee-ee."
    "I won't have this any longer. I won't warn you two again. The next bleeder you introduce into this station, the next suspect who has difficulty walking, the next civilian who doesn't look altogether healthy and happy—do you know what that arrest will do for you?"
    "Eee-ee-ee-ee?"
    "It will mean a transfer to a certain little village of fishermen that I won't mention, because the whole building may crash down on us if I do. And do you know what those God-fearing fishermen do with constables who haven't learned the meaning of the word proportion?"
    "Eee?"
    "How they treat those officials who have no idea of human relations?"
    "Eee?"
    "How they approach ignorant policemen who cannot weigh this against that?"
    "Eee?"
    "They grind them to dolls' shit. Ground, sieved, purified, refined dolls' shit."
    Sergeant Jurriaans let go. The constables tumbled away#and came to rest against opposite walls.
    "Did I hurt you?"
    "Yes, sergeant!"
    "Do you wish to apply for sick leave?"
    "No, sergeant."
    "You may go to the canteen. The brothel on the other side of the street delivered some apple pie, because we. haven't interfered with it for the last five years. Madame baked the pies with her own puffy hands. Sometimes all this becomes too much for me. She sent her two prize whores to carry the basket; the handle was decorated with a plastic rose."
    "I want some pie too," Grijpstra said.
    "Be my guest, and tell me more. Something jolly this time. Tell me about some nice murder."
    "Yes," Grijpstra said a little later, before plunging his fork. "A murder, you said. But I can't tell you much about it yet. It's not the right sbrt of murder, you see."
    "Is there a right sort of murder?"
    "Oh yes."
    "What's wrong with this one?"
    "No corpse."
    "No," Sergeant Jurriaans said when Grijpstra had finished his story and three helpings of pie. "A murder because some furniture disappeared? And some silly poodle? And a wayward wife? Don't you have anything better to do? You've got a whole weekend ahead of you and the weather happens to be fine. Go fishing. Or count tits on the beach. Another two miles of beach have been set aside for the naked. I can give you directions."
    "No."
    "You've been doing something wrong, or you are jumping to conclusions. Is superstar de Gier in this too? How is our hero? He caused a few laughs at the range the other night. I always thought he was supposed to be a reasonable shot."
    "You fellows gave him a pistol with the sights out of whack. He's doing badly. Nervous, Jurriaans, very. Stopped smoking and lives in pure insanity. Of course he is in this with me, it's my duty to keep him busy. I'm not expecting him to be useful but he can look at Titania while I work. That's a nice girl, although your Asta is better. What's the use of beauty without invitation? Your Asta is friendlier. Do you ever go to cafe" Beelema?"
    Jurriaans grinned. "Sure, and I know Titania. Did you happen to look at her sideways?"
    Grijpstra ate his last crumb and scraped his plate. "Yes. That blouse must have been specially designed, and they placed the bottles on a high shelf so that she has to reach up all the time. Whoever cut the armholes in that blouse should be decorated. She does have perfect breasts, doesn't she? Never saw anything like it Sure, on photographs, but that's all tricks. They photograph them upside down or attach nylon threads to their nipples and pull. Titania doesn't need any of that De Gier thought so too. We changed places a few times so that we could check the other side. Perfect, Jurriaans, perfect."
    Jurriaans pursed his lips. "Not quite. Asta looks better."
    "Yes? How do you know?"
    "How do you think? I told you she has a father complex and I'm the right type for her. I live a strict life, of course, the police