From Bruges with Love Read Online Free PDF

made by carefully arranging sugar cubes.
    â€œDon’t we say good morning, young man?”
    Joris ignored his father’s request. He lowered his eyes and rearranged the cubes in a different pattern.
    â€œJoris has problems with people he doesn’t know,” said Vermast. He probably tried to sell that to anyone crossing the threshold of his house for the first time, thought Van In.
    â€œNo problem, Mr. Vermast. As long as they’re amusing themselves,” he said. He did his best to sound convincing.
    Vermast put the kettle on the stove and grabbed a couple of cracked and chipped mugs from the kitchen cupboard. Van In could see that something wasn’t right from the way the man rummaged nervously in the cupboard.
    â€œIs tea OK?” Vermast asked, a little embarrassed. He produced an empty canister with a crusty layer of coffee grounds on the bottom.
    â€œWhatever you have is fine,” Van In lied. The supply of sugar on the table reassured him. Three cubes were enough to make even dishwater drinkable.
    â€œHave you lived here long, Mr. Vermast?”
    â€œThree months, Commissioner. There’s still a ton of work to be done, as you can see. But you know how it goes.” Van In had no idea whatsoever how it went but decided wisely not to pursue it.
    The growl of the diesel engine made the recently replaced windows (still labeled) buzz and vibrate. Van In looked outside. He saw the gate swing open and Leen driving carefully onto the property. She parked the dilapidated Volvo between two piles of sand. With the kind of force only an old Swedish car could handle, Tine threw open the passenger door.
    â€œLively girl,” said Van In. “Is she always so full of energy?”
    He hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but it visibly cheered Vermast nonetheless.
    â€œMy wife thinks she should go to a school for gifted children, but there isn’t one in the neighborhood. Her IQ is way above one hundred thirty, so that can be problematic, especially when you have to deal with teachers who don’t understand.”
    Van In raised his eyes to heaven. Kids. Jesus H. Christ . The boy was half-autistic, and to compensate, they’d bumped up the neurotic girl to prodigy status.
    Vermast grabbed a third cup and filled all three with tea. The stuff smelled of dirty laundry. Van In should have known better, but now it was too late.
    Leen pushed open the kitchen door with her foot, bulging brown paper bags from the local supermarket under each arm. She dumped them on the kitchen counter.
    â€œHi, honey. Good day, Commissioner.”
    Leen was wearing a sleeveless minidress. She collapsed on a chair with a sigh, involuntarily hitching up the short skirt. Most women cross their legs out of modesty, but Leen didn’t make the least effort to conceal her snow-white panties from the commissioner’s gaze. Van In was convinced she knew what she was doing. He looked up. The tops of her breasts were quite visible in the V-neck of her dress, and that sight was much more interesting.
    â€œMommy, I want carrot juice,” Tine whined. Vermast smiled sheepishly. Van In, by contrast, would quite happily have treated the little monster to a clip on the ear.
    â€œMom, I want carrot juice. You promised.” The girl pounded her head stubbornly against Leen’s shoulder.
    â€œLater, sweetheart. Mommy’s having some tea first.”
    â€œMooom. You prooooomised,” she said, stamping her feet. The girl’s screeching cut to the bone. Van In gritted his teeth as he used to when someone ran fingernails across the blackboard at school. Leen let her daughter have her tantrum, sipped at her tea, and smiled every now and then at Van In. The girl turned to her father in a rage.
    â€œRenovating a place like this must take a serious toll on your energy.”
    Van In hadn’t been planning to raise the subject, but the circumstances forced him to. Tine pestered her father