Dead Man's Tale Read Online Free PDF Page A

bicycles. At least, that’s what they told me at the hotel on Lange Poten Strasse. I believe it.
    We didn’t stay in The Hague long. We went to the Dutch office of CARE because Steve said they might have something on our man. They did. They brought out the file on Milo Hacha and it showed that Barney Street had been sending monthly packages to Hacha during the early postwar years. Then he just dropped out of existence.
    If he was dead, they didn’t know it. I couldn’t get over the notion that Steve was disappointed. Not because we couldn’t find Hacha, but because they couldn’t tell him for sure that he was dead. That doesn’t make sense, I know, but it’s the impression I got.
    Unfortunately, the Swiss girl who had handled the Hacha business for CARE isn’t with them any more. Her name is Gertrude Ohlendorf and she’s gone back to Lucerne. But here is an odd coincidence: she left The Hague a few days after the arrival of Barney Street’s last package, the one they couldn’t deliver because Hacha had vanished. I guess if it’s necessary we can look her up in Lucerne. They gave us her address.
    At first it didn’t look as if it would be necessary. We took the train to Oosterdijk, where Hacha was stationed during the war. The trip was across country so flat it makes Long Island look like the Alps. Travelling across the countryside like that, you get an idea of how crowded Holland is and how much building is going on here. Except in Oosterdijk, I gather.
    Mayor Van Hilversum didn’t seem anxious to talk about Milo Hacha at first; then the legacy hooked him. When he heard about that he seemed to get perverse satisfaction in telling us Hacha was dead. And on our second visit he gave us documents establishing Hacha’s death beyond any legal doubt.
    That seemed to end it and, frankly, I was disappointed. I think I had visions of our wandering all over the face of Europe looking for this mysterious Czech.
    Then the mayor’s wife dropped her little bombshell. I didn’t get a chance to read her note until we returned, drenched, to the hotel. It said: “If you wish to learn more about Milo Hacha, see Old Joost.” When she slipped it to me I’d actually thought it was an assignation because of my sex appeal!
    While Steve was taking a bath, I went downstairs to the concierge and asked him about Old Joost. Joost is an old blind man, he said, who has a farm about a mile out of town. He lives there with his granddaughter, and I gather he’s something of a recluse.
    When I went back upstairs I showed Steve the note. He didn’t like it. He’d already been talking about catching the next flight back to the States, and the note jarred him.
    We decided, over dinner in the hotel dining room, to see Old Joost first thing in the morning. I must have had a little too much wine, because for no reason at all I blurted out, “Steve, you wanted to find out Hacha was dead, didn’t you?”
    â€œWhat do you mean by that, kid?”
    â€œI don’t know. I’m asking you.” Now that I’d started it, I couldn’t stop. “Well, what happens if you find out he’s still alive?”
    â€œAlive? You heard the mayor. He’s dead. He’s dead, kid. Go on upstairs and read the stuff the mayor gave us. It proves Hacha’s dead.”
    â€œBut what about this note?”
    â€œAll right. All right . I said we’d see this Joost character in the morning, didn’t I?”
    It had stopped raining, so after dinner I went out for a walk on the red-brick streets of Oosterdijk. I admit it looks as if Milo Hacha is dead. Everything points to it.
    But just mentioning the possibility that he’s still alive scared Steve as much as reading about Barney Street’s murder!
    Why?

5
    Old Joost liked the sound of the rainwater dripping from the eaves of the old stone farmhouse.
    There were other sounds, too, which Old