CHAPTER 1
Two private detectives Dr.
Troublemaker and Johan Eigeman enter the office of the editor-in-chief of the
daily newspaper de Volkskrant in
Amsterdam.
“Welcome!”
Editor Roelf says, shaking hands with them.
“You
see how fast everything happens. Last week at your home in Zwaag* you were still convinced that this sort
of thing would never happen here,” says Dr. Troublemaker.
“Yes!
I admit it, but who would have ever believed that?”
“What
did I tell you?” sneers Johan. “You see, Dr. Troublemaker foresaw everything.”
“Johan
told me that the Mafia is blackmailing you,” Dr. Troublemaker says, quickly
turning his glance to the editor of de Volkskrant, “because you’re taking
drugs.”
“It’s not true that I said Roelf was
taking drugs,” Johan interrupts with an apologetic tone in his voice, patting
Roelf on his shoulder.
“But?” Dr. Troublemaker spreads his
arms.
Roelf
looks down at the dirty red carpet. “I was forced to sniff cocaine,” he
whispers.
“And
to watch the execution of a famous kick boxer,” adds Dr. Troublemaker.
“What
else could he have done!?” Johan says, trying to defend him.
“Nothing!”
Dr. Troublemaker hits his open left hand with his right fist. “But he can help
us now, can’t he?”
The
editor becomes animated at once. “Yes! Yes I can!”
Somebody
knocks on the door.“Come in,” says Roelf.
A
plumb man, Victor Lebesque, the jurist of de Volkskrant, enters the office.
“Oh! The private detectives have already arrived.”
Dr.
Troublemaker offers his hand to the newcomer. “It’ll be an honor, if you don’t
mind, to shake my right hand with the hand of a left-winger.”
“No!
No! I don’t mind!” the jurist sneers.
Dr.
Troublemaker seizes him up from top to toe and notices that, apart from being
audacious, he is also very corpulent. “You know why we’re here!?”
“Yes!
Roelf already told me everything.”
“And
also the fact that the kidnapped millionaire is in the hands of corrupted members
of the police and the Secret Service of the Kingdom of The Netherlands?”
“Yes!
He told me about your declaration.”
“And
also the possibility that he’s already been killed.”
“And
now what?” asks Roelf.
“Give
us the names of the kidnappers,” asks Victor Lebesque.
Johan
cuts in. “But first give us a guarantee that the information will be paid!”
‘That’s
no problem,” says Roelf. “The family of the kidnapped person guarantees half a
million.”
“Guilders!”
says Johan again.
“Yes!
Guilders!” Roelf confirms.
Dr. Troublemaker looks at Johan and Roelf.
He knows everything about them and their third partner Dirk as well. These two
Dutch musketeers started their careers as spies a few years ago. As secret
agents employed in three national daily newspapers, they were collecting
information for the special anti-terrorist Secret Service of the Ministry of
Transport and Waterways. Johan became involved in TROUW, Dirk in Het PAROOL while Roelf joined DE VOLKSKRANT. The first
two of these Dutch papers had been run by the resistance forces, who helped
liberate the Dutch people during the Second World War. After the war, the Dutch
government was constantly keeping track of potential freedom fighters out of fear that they could turn against the new
regime. “Who is this lawyer Victor? Is he Russian?” Dr. Troublemaker asks
himself.
Then he says, “I was told that a press
conference would be held here and not some secret hearing conducted by a few
Dutch spies.”
The
three men look at each other. “Is that a good idea?” Roelf says.
“Good
or not! That’s why we came here, didn’t we?” says Dr. Troublemaker.
“Ha
ha!” the lawyer sneers. “If you want a press conference, we’ll go to the
conference hall.”
*
The
press conference is scheduled in the main building of de Volkskrant located on
Wibautstraat in Amsterdam. Ten
journalists are gathered on the fifth floor, clamoring for information about
the kidnapped millionaire.
“Give
me back my brother!” shouts the brother of the kidnapped millionaire.
“Your
brother has been killed,” Dr. Troublemaker says coolly. “The only thing you can
do now to catch those criminals is to refuse to give them a cent.”
“How
do you know that?” asks one of the journalists.
“He’s
the director of Reserve Police-International,” says Johan, Dr. Troublemaker’s
deputy.
“Aha!”
shouts the brother of the kidnapped person, “so even the police want more
money.”
“We’re
not from the police,” the deputy responds. “We’re private detectives.”
“Give
me back my brother!” The brother of the kidnapped man bangs his fist on the
table so that everything on it shakes.
“We
cannot bring your brother back. It’s too late now. Your brother has already
been killed. The only thing we can still do is to catch the criminals, so that
you can claim your brother’s remains. If you make mistakes, you won’t succeed
in that either.”
“Who
kidnapped my brother?”
“A
very dangerous criminal organization,” Johan explains.
“Criminal
members of the national security service of your country,” says Dr.
Troublemaker. “The Secret Services of your country knew months in advance everything
about the case and the plans to kidnap your brother. Why they didn’t prevent this
crime, when it was still possible is a question you must investigate by
yourself; that is none of my business. I
did my best to prevent the kidnapping, but somebody did not want that,
sabotaged everything and now we’re here to pick up the pieces.”
*
The
path to the men’s room in the main building of de Volkskrant from the
conference hall leads through a huge corridor to the other part of the building.
“Hi
Bob!” somebody calls out loudly.
“Who
are you?” Dr. Troublemaker asks a corpulent figure, settled comfortably in a
sofa in the office of the sports department.
“Mart
Smeets, I’m the sports editor.”
“Oh!”
Yes! I recognize you now. You’re also on TV sometimes.”
“That’s
right. How are you?”
“Not
bad. Nice job you’ve got, Mr. Smeets.”
“Yes!
Sure! I’m happy with it.”
“Where’s
the men’s room?”
“Just
around the corner. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks!”
Dr. Troublemaker enters the lavatory and
locks the door. He takes off his right, high-heeled boot and neatly pulls out a
mini cell phone. It is smaller than a box of matches (a latest piece of technology
from Phoenix developed by a Dutch electrical engineer) and pressed a key to
make a call.
“Gerard!”
“Hi
commissioner! How is it outside?”
“It’s
all right. Only, your advisor has been here in front of the main entrance for
some time now.”
“Really!
How does he know we’re here?”
“What
do you think?”
“Mister
S!?”
“Mister
Sits.”
“Ha!”
“Call
the general and tell him to be ready. The red lawyer can call him at any
moment.”
“All
right!”
‘The
red lawyer demands that we also call the professor.”
“Frits!”
“Yes!”
“I
don’t like it!”
“Neither
do I.”
“As
you like. Be careful.”
“Don’t
worry!”
“Bye!”
“Bye.”
Dr. Troublemaker closes his phantom phone, places it back in the heel of his
boot and puts the boot on again. After washing his hands, he returns to the
conference hall. On his way back, he greets the sports editor.
*
“Gentlemen, let me make myself clear.”
Dr. Troublemaker is addressing those present at the press conference. “The
whole affair is known to the police as well as the justice department. At the
explicit request of a lawyer and a professor, we have deposited a written
statement with a public notary in Amsterdam with the following information: The
criminal organization, that we mentioned, consists of high-ranking police officers
as well as members of the Secret Services of the Kingdom of The Netherlands. Their
aim was to kidnap the crown prince, heir to the Dutch throne and by means of
blackmail to enforce the payment of a hundred million guilders, to be given in
various types of foreign currencies and diamonds. Because this scheme was prevented
in time, we thought that the potential kidnappers were eliminated from this
operation. However, a few months ago a new danger emerged. Because we had not
done everything in the way it should have been done, the whole criminal
organization consolidated and in order to cover their expenses decided to kidnap
a millionaire. This gang will demand to be paid 5 to 6 million guilders in
various types of foreign currency as well as in diamonds. The gangsters knew
that the command center of the police handling this case would ask for proof
that the kidnapped person was still alive, so before having him killed, would
demand that the victim count from one to twenty, which they would record on
tape. Then they would cut off one of his pinks, after which they would kill and
bury him. The gang is convinced that the family of the kidnapped person will
pay the required sum as soon as they receive the cut-off pink of their family
member.”
“You
know then who the kidnappers are,” lawyer Victor concludes.
“They’re
also known to the police authorities,“ Dr. Troublemaker responds.
“Why
don’t you give us their names?” asks one of the journalists.
“First
the money!” shouts Johan.
“If
your information leads to the arrest of the kidnappers we guarantee that de
Volkskrant will pay you the reward,” the red lawyer states.
“And
the reward is…!?” Johan spreads his arms.
“Half
a million guilders,” answers the brother of the kidnapped man.
“The
only thing I can tell you right now is that an electrical engineer, who’s been
fired from his job, is a member of this gang and that he has invented the most
modern type of telecommunication for them.”
“Electrical
engineer?!” The brother of the kidnapped man raises his eyebrows.
“Yes!
Aeronautical-electrical engineer,” explains Dr. Troublemaker. “Everything is
known to the police authorities.”
“What
do you want?” inquires the director of de Volkskrant.
“We
want you to publish this information as you promised us in de Volkskrant
tomorrow,” answers Dr. Troublemaker.
“As
soon as we are convinced that you really deposited that document with the
notary public,” says the editor.
“That
will be possible tomorrow morning,” affirms Dr. Troublemaker.
“Tomorrow
then. If it is true that you have deposited that statement, we will publish
everything the day after tomorrow,” the editor promises.
“And
what about the financial reward?” mourns Johan.
‘That’s
business for the family to take care of,” says Victor Lebesque.
“Give
me back my brother!” shouts the millionaire.
“Give
us the money first!” shouts Johan, rubbing his right thumb over his index
finger.
“Typical Dutch businessmen,” concludes
Dr. Troublemaker for himself.
* * *
