I sat on the stool next to the phone. “I can hardly wait.”
“She wanted to buy one for me, too, but I told her I like my water with germs.” At the sound of rustling in the background, I asked what was going on. “Your mother’s shaking off the dead leaves from the fern plants.”
“We don’t have fern plants.” I sat up a bit straighter.
“We do now. Along with two ficus trees and a spider plant.”
“We do?”
“Yes indeedy. She bought them at Kruger’s.”
“Kruger’s doesn’t sell plants,” I said beginning to think I was in a bad ‘B’ movie, while Sam looked on with complete bewilderment.
“They do now. They’re branching out!” At her own wit, Millie started to laugh uncontrollably. She put the phone down and a few seconds later my mother was on the line.
“Alex, hi, it’s Mom. Are you all having a good time?”
“A wonderful time, Mom. What gives with all the plants?” I could still hear Millie laughing in the background.
“Kruger’s had a sale to get their new line going, so I bought a few. The office looks so nice what with the plants and the new furniture arrangement.”
“You’ve rearranged the furniture, too?”
“It’s so much more efficient this way. And with the plants and the throw pillows, the whole office is just so warm and inviting.”
“Throw pillows?”
“Just a few.”
“Listen, Mom, Sam wants to talk with you for a minute.” I handed the phone to my sister and mouthed the words, don’t ask.
“Mom. Make sure you get Kendall and Henry this Friday. Well, actually, you can probably just get Kendall. Henry wears me out. Ask the camp if they want to keep him.”
I slapped my sister’s arm. “I’ll take him.”
“Samantha! Do you think I could forget my grandchildren and I will not let them keep Henry? How could you say such a thing?”
“Well, I thought with your new interior decorating business, you might have forgotten to go get the kids.”
“Not a chance. And don’t worry about anything. You’re going to love the difference. Just a second, Millie wants to talk with you.”
“Sam, the accountant stopped by and I printed up the quarter-end reports. He said they look good. So what have you all been seeing?”
“Well, the first few days we did quite a bit of sightseeing but now with the murder and all, we’ve just been too busy.”
I moaned from my seat on the kitchen stool, and put my face in my hands.
“Murder!” I could hear Millie screeching into the phone sending a shock wave into Sam’s ear three thousand miles away.
“Well, gotta go. We have a few more suspects to talk to. Ta-ta.” With that Sam hung up.
“Why did you do that?” I groaned.
“Hey, if we’ve got to agonize over what the heck our office is going to look like when we get back,” Sam put her two hands up, “providing we still have a business, that is, they can worry about us traipsing all over Europe in search of killers.”
I pursed my lips together and nodded. “Fair enough.” Just then my phone rang, and thinking Millie had called back, I picked it up and said, “No, she was not kidding.”
“What?”
“John, is that you?”
“Of course, it’s me. Who did you think would be calling you while you’re on your honeymoon”
“I thought it might be Millie. Sorry. How are you? Where are you?” I leaned my elbow on the kitchen counter.
“Still with Gerard. Listen, feel like taking the tram and coming down to the center tonight? Gerard would like to take us all out for dinner. He feels bad he’s been taking up all of my time, especially considering I’m on my honeymoon.”
“I know how he feels. Yeah, I think we could manage that. We’ll have to wait for Michael. Give me directions.”
“Michael’s here already.” John told me where to meet them and at what time and I hung up.
“Well, how do you like that? I’m so glad our men can squeeze us into their hectic day.”
After changing clothes and freshening up a bit, we left to meet our husbands.
“This time let’s take the stairs,” Sam said.
Chapter 22
“Well, Mrs. Van der Burg, how was your day?”
“Good. If you ignore the fact I almost got killed by a speeding car, had another car almost take the door off of the Escort, and someone stalked us in the elevator. Other than that, it was good. But now it’s perfect.” I kissed my husband hard on the lips. We stood in the Grand Place while Sam and Michael ran into another lace shop to look.
“What do you mean you almost got hit by a car? Alex, what have you been doing?” John held me at arms length before pulling me close.
I shrugged. “Nothing. Sam and I stopped to take a picture of some cows in a field and I wasn’t watching, and well, you know how these people drive.”
“And what about the car door? Did these crazy people follow you into our elevator as well?”
I started to laugh but seeing the serious and somewhat angry look in my husband’s eyes said, “No, no. Nothing like that. We got stuck in the elevator when we got home and we let our imaginations get carried away a bit. It was nothing. Just the lawyers next door.”
“Well, promise you’ll take extra care while driving around here. These are wonderful people, but their driving skills leave something to be desired.”
“I promise.”
“Good. Gerard said he would meet us over by the café.” John pointed to a terrace packed with people having a drink. The rain had stopped an hour before and the sun was peeking out from behind an array of fast-moving clouds. John put his arms around my waist. “Have I told you yet today I love you?”
“As a matter of fact, I do remember you saying something like that this morning as you ran out the door.”
“I’m sorry, honey. Are you mad?”
“No. But if it’ll get me a bigger diamond when we go to Antwerp, then yes, I’m just furious!” I said with mock anger stamping my foot for emphasis.
“Nice try. You’ll get what the piggy bank allows.”
“I take it then you will be able to join us on Friday?”
“Friday is fine. And Saturday if you still want to go to Amsterdam. Gerard wants to go over a few things tomorrow.”
Sam and Michael emerged from the lace shop—with a lighter wallet judging from the bag Sam carried.
“Just a few little things for Mom and Meme and Michael’s mother.”
“Maybe I should get something for Mary-Beth,” I said, referring to my good friend, and looking over toward the shop.
“Later,” John took my arm, “I see Gerard over there.”
We walked toward a smiling Gerard waving from the terrace of the café. He was really a jolly looking man, I thought.
“Good evening, Alex, Sam. It is okay if I call you by your first names?”
“Yes, of course.” I shook Gerard’s hand.
“It’s not the custom in Belgium, but I find it to be more open and friendly. Here in Belgium, it may be two years before we use first names with our neighbors. Sometimes, it never happens. I like the American way much better.”
“We’ve noticed in some of the shops we’ve been in that co-workers use vous with one another as opposed to the less formal tu. Is that normal?” Sam asked.
“Normal, yes, for the French language. The English language is not encumbered by such formality. I think sometimes it makes it easier all around. Bon!” He clapped his hands together. “If I may, I would like to suggest we go directly to the restaurant where we can have our drinks and get to know one another. I must pick my wife up later and I want to make sure we have sufficient time to enjoy our meal.”
“Will your wife be joining us then?” I asked.
“No, I am afraid not. She is an infirmière, ah, how do you say it in English? The one who helps the doctor?”
“A nurse?” I
offered.
“Eh bien. A nurse. With summer here, people are off on their holidays and the hospital is under-staffed. It was necessary for her to work the evenings for a while. I have chosen a restaurant on the Petite Rue des Bouchers. Do you know this street?”
“I think it’s the one we were walking down the other night, if I’m not mistaken. The one with all the outdoor restaurants,” Michael said.
“That is correct. As the weather seems to be on our side for the moment, I thought we would dine al fresco.”
Gerard chose one of the restaurants we had passed the other evening. It had a huge selection of fresh fish displayed on a bed of ice. After pushing two tables together and pulling up another chair, the waiter seated us and handed us menus.
“If you would permit me,” asked Gerard, “I would like to do the ordering. I assure you there will be something for everyone.”
“By all means,” we said in unison glad the choice and the struggle with the French menu had been eliminated.
When our drinks arrived, delivered by a waiter dressed in something resembling a tuxedo, Gerard gave him our order. It seemed to take a bit of time with a lot of questions on the waiter’s part.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
“Oui. It is just that in this country, special orders are not the custom. I was asking for several starter items to be delivered as our main course. It is not customary here and I think the waiter was a bit confused.”
“Gerard,” I began, “your English is so good. You don’t pronounce the th like all the other Belgians we’ve talked with,” I said, thinking back to the way Martine pronounced it like a d.
“Well, thank you but I have had more practice than most. When Ken came to live with us many years ago as a foreign exchange student we were supposed to teach him French,” Gerard started to laugh, “but I’m afraid he taught my brother and me English. It was all we wanted to learn. You must remember this was the time of the Beatles and all the wonderful music coming out of England and America. We had to know the words. It didn’t sound right in French.”
“How long did Ken stay with you?” John asked. “He always talked of his days here with great fondness.”
“We loved Ken. Still do. Our families have remained friends for all these years and it is because of him my wife and daughter and I have gone to America many times. Always the Boston area and Cape Cod, but they are wonderful places to be, no. To answer your question, he was with us for one school year. And a wonderful year it was. But we had other exchange students over time. Some from Canada, one from Australia and another from America. I keep in touch with all of them but Ken has remained one of my best friends.”
“Well, that explains why your English is so good. With all those exchange students coming and going.”
“Yes, Alex, but it wasn’t always English speakers. We had students from Greece and Spain and one boy from Italy. I wonder what ever happened to him?” Gerard tilted his large head in thought.
“It must have been fun,” Sam said. “Maybe I should do something like that with my kids.”
“By all means. It was a wonderful experience. We didn’t have much money, you see, when I was growing up. But for my parents it was very important we were exposed to other cultures. Belgium is small, no, and my mother wanted us to have a broader view of the world. There was never money for travel except to the Belgian coast or to the Ardennes for some cross-country skiing on special occasions. So my parents decided if we couldn’t go to other places, they would bring them to us. And they did. With all the foreign exchange students passing through our house, it was as if we were in another place every year.”
“What a marvelous idea. Your parents sound like very special people,” I said.
Gerard’s brown eyes twinkled. “Absolument! My father is long gone, but my mother stills lives in the same apartment where I grew up.”
Our dinner arrived. All the platters and plates took up the two small tables. When the waiter had gone, Gerard explained the various items. “We have here,” he pointed to a platter full of cruteseans, “a cold platter. Oysters, clams. This one is a friture de poisson, a variety of fried fish. There are two salads,” he continued gesturing to two large bowls. “This one is a salad niçoise with egg, tomato, green beans, peppers, and the other is called frisée aux lardons, a salad with bits of bacon and a hot dressing. And of course we have frites.” He pointed to the ever-present bowl of French fries. Gerard served each of us, putting a variety on our plate. He was a gracious host.
“Everything we’ve been eating so far has been excellent.” Michael pulled the meat from a clamshell. “Is there anything particular to Belgium we should try that we haven’t already had?”
Gerard gave the table a pounding with his large hand. “Stoump! You must try Stoump. You can find it in the cafés.”
“Stoump?” Sam said as she helped herself to a few of the frites.
“It is a casserole of mashed potatoes with vegetables mixed in. Peasant food, but very good. And you must try Waterzooi. My mother makes the best. It is a concoction of boiled chicken with cream and maybe some boiled potatoes all served in a tureen. Both are delicious.” Gerard smacked his lips.
“Well, this is all delicious, too. An excellent choice, Gerard. Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure, John. The least I can do for taking you away from your vacation and honeymoon.”
“Don’t feel too bad about it. John thrives on his work and the chance to work with the police in another country is a dream come true.” I shot my husband a look across the small table telling him I understood completely. Sam and I were quite caught up ourselves. “I should have known our few days at the Griswald Inn would be the extent of our honeymoon,” I said referring to the few days we spent there right after the wedding ceremony. “I consider this nothing more than a vacation.” I smiled at John and he patted my hand.
“Tell us about your wife, Gerard,” Sam suggested.
“Ah, my Annie. A wonderful wife and mother to our daughter. We have but the one child. My wife herself was an only child. Her parents are both gone now so our family is not very large but we are very close. Annie has been wonderful to my mother. She goes to visit many times during the week and shops for her. My daughter, too, is very good to her only grandmother. Veronique, my daughter, is studying to be a nurse like her mother. It is a good profession for them as they are both very giving.”
“Your wife is also Belgian,” I asked.
“Oui. Born and bred in Bruxelles like me. I fear we will be here for the rest of our days. We own two houses in the suburbs we rent out and perhaps one day we will move into one, but I am not sure I could survive without this city.”
“Gerard, if you don’t mind my asking,” Sam said, “everything is so expensive here. How does a large family do it?”
Gerard munched on a French fry before answering. “Well, you are right. Most things are much more than in America. Taxes are higher, but there are some differences. For one, we have the two houses left to my wife by her parents. We pay no capital gains tax on property. In Belgium, it is a way of making money. You will find many Belgians own property. And for many, like my family, we do not live in it ourselves but we rent it out. And with the country becoming so international, we always have a large selection of renters to choose from.”
We were interrupted by the waiter. Coffees were ordered along with a selection of pastries from a very ample pastry cart. By the time the second round of coffees arrived the conversation turned to the murder. I had wondered how long it would take and was happy to get by this long.
“I don’t understand,” Sam said. “Paul never talked to his doctor about reversing the vasectomy?”
“That appears to be correct. Of course, we spoke only in hypothetical terms, but I think it is safe to say he never tried.”
John nodded. “That was certainly my impression of what the doctor said.”
“Probably because he knew it was possible,” I said.
“Oui, I believe this is a correct assumption.”
“But why didn’t he just tell Martine he didn’t want to do it and be done with it?” Michael asked.
“I don’t know. It is something I will look into tomorrow. I fear Monsieur Cassé is becoming the most likely suspect.”
Everyone thanked Gerard for the wonderful dinner and after he left to go pick up his wife, the four of us strolled the streets around the Grand Place. We passed a café with lively music coming from inside. Michael suggested we all go in to listen but I was too tired.
“I think Michael and I will stay out a bit. It’s a beautiful night and I feel like hearing some music.” Sam kissed my cheek, winked, took Michael’s arm, and went into the café.
Chapter 23
“Well, Mrs. Van der Burg, it looks like we’re alone.”
“It certainly does. My sister can actually come up with some very good ideas once in a while.”
John and I walked up the Rue du Lombard until we came to the Grand Sablon, a beautiful square lined with restaurants and upscale art and antique shops. We crossed the square, which was still filled with people sitting outside and leisurely sipping espressos, until we reached the tram stop. After fifteen minutes we boarded an almost deserted tram. Twenty minutes later we were dropped off a block from our apartment.
“I think Bill is in some kind of trouble,” John said as we crossed the Avenue Brezil.
“Trouble? With his marriage?” I asked, wondering if Wanda’s suspicions of an affair with Martine were true.
“No. With his business. I overheard him on the phone today when I went over with Gerard. I think he might be involved in some shady deals.”
“Oh, dear.”
“I’m not sure, exactly. I confess I don’t know much about what he does, but it didn’t sound good. And he’s been, well, just not himself. Not like when we were younger.”