Unlike New York, the streets of Amsterdam were like one big puzzle to Wall. New York was easy to navigate since most streets were laid out in a grid fashion, with many numbered. If you could count you could find the street you were looking for, that was the general theory. Here streets in the city center went around in a half circle which confused him, and the way Bakker drove multiplied that effect.
Bakker took shortcuts and side streets at every opportunity possible and went over speed bumps as if they didn't exist. Luckily, the spongy suspension of the old Citroen soaked it all up, but that did not stop Wall from feeling nauseous.
Within fifteen minutes, they arrived at Margot's address the Veembroederhof on the other side of Amsterdam right next to the large waterfront they called the Ij.
The ten story apartment block was next to the docks, or at least they probably were at one stage long ago, Wall concluded. Now they were a mixture of recently built offices and apartments and converted warehouses.
Wall looked up. It struck him that this was probably the highest building he had seen in Amsterdam since his arrival. Towering masses of glass and concrete, as he was used to in New York, were non-existent. This was about as high as it got.
Each side of the front entrance had letterboxes. Bakker checked the address once again on the piece of paper and found Margot van der Kalk. He opened the letterbox flap and peered inside. "Empty."
Wall smiled. "At least someone is picking up the post. Ring the bell, let's see if she's home, although I suspect she'll be at work. She was going on her shift when I met her this morning."
Bakker rang the bell.
"If she went on an eight hour shift," Wall continued, "then she won't be home until eight or nine tonight."
They waited for about twenty seconds, there was no answer.
"Let's come back tonight. We will catch her when she gets off work."
"Hello?" Came a nervous sounding female voice from the intercom. Wall was about to say something when Bakker held up the palm of his hand to block him, he then turned to the intercom and with an authoritative voice introduced himself in Dutch as Detective Frank Bakker. That was all Wall could understand as he rattled on in the language he was slowly getting accustomed to hearing.
Suddenly the glass door in front of them opened automatically. They walked over to the lift, Bakker pressed the button.
"I liked the way you did that," Wall told Bakker.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. A bit forceful, letting her know who you are and where you're coming from. You actually sounded like a real detective."
Bakker looked up at Wall like a little kid who had just received the biggest compliment of his life. The lift doors finally opened. As they stepped in Bakker pressed the button for the eighth floor.
"Amazing what a new set of clothes and a haircut does to a man," Wall said.
The smile on Bakker's face turned to one of defeat.
"But," Wall continued, "you've definitely earned your points back."
"Thanks," Bakker replied, with a smirk. "But why didn't you insist on taking the stairs this time instead of the lift."
Wall turned to Bakker and raised his finger. "And that is how you lost all your points again."
"What? Why?" Bakker asked, puzzled.
"Because you should have taken the initiative. You should have said let's take the stairs."
"But it's eight floors up."
"That's not the point."
"Great partner you are."
"I do my best," Wall replied, as the lift doors opened.
Margot van der Kalk's apartment door was slightly open. Bakker went in first.
"Hello?" He called out.
"Come in," she replied, from somewhere inside. Three female coats and medical tunic hung on the left wall of the hallway. No male partner, Wall thought. The living room was bright and spacious. Margot van der Kalk sat in a dark brown armchair in a darkened living room. The curtains were pulled shut. The only light was from a low hanging lamp next to her. She looked a mess. Her eyes were puffed up and bloodshot, she had obviously been crying. Suddenly she saw Wall enter the room. Her face changed from anguish to shock.
"It's you," she said in English.
"Hello again."
"I wasn't lying to you." She said in panic, and quickly wiped the tears from her face. Wall raised his hands to calm her.
"I know, you don't have to worry about a thing. We are just here to clarify a few points."
She gestured to the large sofa. "Please sit down," "Can I get you some coffee or tea?"
Bakker was about to answer when Wall cut in.
"No thanks, we are okay," and gave Bakker such a glance that more or less ordered him to shut up.
"So why are you so upset?" Wall asked.
Margot took a few seconds to compose herself, and wiped some fresh tears from her eyes.
"Seeing that photo," she finally said, "and talking about him brought everything back. He was a nice sweet, gentle guy who did not deserve to die like that."
"You had a crush on him?"
"I really liked him and tried to make his time at the hospital as comfortable as possible, but I didn't start a relationship if that's what you are saying."
"I don't get it." Wall said. "You didn't have a relationship. You work in a part of the hospital where I think three quarters of the patients don't leave with a heartbeat. So why the tears?" He waited for a reaction. There was none.
"How long have you been a nurse? '
"About ten years."
"So, you're an experienced nurse. You must be used to the pain and suffering and death by now."
"You would think so, but that's not how it works. Every patient is unique, and every patient deserves my attention, and I help them in any way I can."
"So tell us about Karl Webber." Bakker said. "When did you first meet him."
She was about to answer when Wall raised his hand.
"Forget that. I want to know when you last met him, and what happened exactly."
Tears swelled up in her eyes. "Oh my God," she said. Her face was full of pain and anguish.
"What have I done," she cried, and once again broke down. Wall waited for about twenty seconds.
"Why didn't you go to work today?"
She took a deep breath, and tried to compose herself.
"I was too upset. After talking to you it all came back. When Karl left the hospital I never thought I'd hear, see or think of him again."
"So what happened?"
Margot took a deep breath, then buried head in her hands.
"Oh my God," she whispered, then looked up at Wall and Bakker.
"There was another nurse called Ans, a temp, who was also working the same ward as me. She only arrived a few weeks before and quickly became friends with Karl. When she was working the night shift she would disappear, then I'd find her sitting with Karl at two or three in the morning. With all the other staff she was?. Afstandelijk, I don't know the English word."
"Detached?" Bakker said. "She kept her distance from people."
"Yes, that's it. She did not make friends. Just kept to herself. Did her work okay and that was it. It seemed the only friend she had was Karl.
"So what happened?" Wall asked.
"The day Karl was to go to the hospice she made sure she was on duty. The ambulance was planned at about twelve to pick him up, but that had been changed to four in the afternoon, the time her shift ended. I was planning on going to the hospice with Karl in the ambulance but because of the time change that made it impossible. She insisted she would do it, and that was that."
"Were you there when the ambulance arrived?"
"Yes. With a couple of porters we brought Karl down to the ambulance. I said goodbye, then she got in the ambulance and they drove off."
"What did you mean by what have I done?"
"I knew something was not right. She was a temp, one of the strangest we ever had."
"Why?"
"She kept to herself. Didn't drink
coffee with us when we had a break, although she did the work okay and had some contact with the other patients, but she was mostly focused on Karl. It was a bit strange."
"Is she still working at the hospital?"
"No. After Karl was taken away I never saw her again."
"Are temps regular?"
"Yes, we work with a lot of nurses who work through different agencies. I don't know which one she was with. I just felt something was not right, but I didn't ask any questions. Even the ambulance that took Karl away?' Tears welled up, and this time she did not hold them back. Margot burst out crying.
Bakker was about to get up off the sofa and go to her when Wall grabbed him by the tail of his jacket and pulled him back down.
"What was the problem with the ambulance?" Wall asked, now in a much more gentle tone.
She tried to compose herself, wiped her tears and took a couple of deep breaths.
"It was private."
"What do you mean private? Can you explain?"
"We normally use ambulances from the hospital. Private ones would be used of course, but not for a patient like Karl."
"Why not?"
"You need very good insurance to cover it or a lot of your own money. Also, the private ambulance that picked him up was not one of the usual services from Amsterdam. I think they came from outside the city."
"We can check with the hospital to see which service it was," Bakker said. "And we can check which agency sent the nurse."
"All right," Wall said, looking at Margot. "I don't think you have done anything wrong. We are going to go and try and track down this nurse, and Karl." He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder.
"You've been a great help, believe me."
"Is this connected to all those recent deaths?"
"Maybe," Wall replied. "We don't know that for sure. The other nurse ? Ans... What was her surname?"
"I've no idea of the rest of her name."
A couple of minutes later they were in the hallway waiting for the lift.
"Now we can go and see Ribb," Wall said.
"It's about time." Bakker replied.
Chapter Thirty