The King of the Rainy Country Read Online Free PDF

der Valk, you’ve only had Canisius to go on. It isn’t that simple.’
    â€˜Perhaps you could tell me more.’
    â€˜I had decided that it would be a waste of time to tell anybody anything. Perhaps I am mistaken.’
    He was wide awake now, sharpened by Smith Woodhouse, Rodin, and William-and-Mary. She didn’t want him to look for her husband. She hadn’t wanted to call the police and it hadn’t been her idea. There had, of course, been no suggestion made that she had brought about this disappearance. Or that she had anything to do with it. She plainly didn’t like Canisius. That gentleman, very likely, didn’t care much for her. He had no particular interest in Jean-Claude Marschal, though. Why had Canisius called the police?
    He had a lot of understanding to do. A policeman, by the law of averages, gets his experience from ordinary people with ordinary jobs: they are quite complex enough, but one starts at least with a common background, a common set of impressions. One has had after all a very similar life; everybody in Holland has a very similar life. All this experience counts for nothing when you meet the very rich or the very poor. So poor you live in a bidonville, which does not exist in Holland, it is not allowed. To be as rich as this is not allowed, either. This house was a fortress against hostility and incomprehension: that could explain this woman; she was not necessarily a criminal.
    â€˜I want to convey to you, simply, that this is not simple,’ she said slowly. ‘It is of very little use just asking me if I know where he went.’
    â€˜Do you know where he went?’ The little half-secret smile again.
    â€˜You want to tell me that you’ll make up your own mind about how simple or how complicated it is. It is your job, and you don’t want a silly woman making things more difficult. Very well. I’llshow you around. You can make up your mind. I will make no comments and I will tell you whatever you ask, with nothing hidden, if you want it that way. All about him. Read into everything just what you please – conclude what you wish.’
    â€˜Tell me about you.’
    He must have looked uneasy, not quite daring to smoke in this room, where it might not be allowed and where there were no ashtrays. She saw this. From the William-and-Mary piece the port had come from she got a silver box with a wooden tray inside it that made a perfectly good ashtray, and a wooden box holding Cuban claros. Her movements were quick and athletic; she didn’t ring for any footman. There was also a box of very large kitchen matches. The arrangement would have been Jean-Claude’s.
    â€˜I live alone in this house. I have two children, both girls, away at school in Belgium. You see that there are no more Marschals.
    â€˜I am Belgian. My name was De Meeus, my father was a baron. I used to be a ski champion. Champion means you are among the ten best. I had a bad fall when I was twenty-one, but I can still ski. I met my husband at a time when he was also among the ten best. There was a lot of opposition from my family – all that money, and from pretty dubious sources. The old Marschal, Jean-Claude’s grandfather, was a very nasty person, I imagine, hand in glove with everything shady. They certainly saw me as something to increase their respectability. Get on good terms with the monarchist money as well as the republican. They never pretended to become castle-owners or landed squires – too smart. They knew they’d look foolish and Marschals, Mr Van der Valk, never allow themselves to look foolish. Never try to humiliate a Marschal – a lesson I had to learn early. The old man, my beau-papa, is a very tough nut. It is very much his business. Canisius is just an accountant, an organization man. A nobody.
    â€˜The business, though, bores my husband stiff. Always did. He didn’t feel humiliated at being just a master of ceremonies