The Streetbird Read Online Free PDF Page A

a thousand or so, and under his panama hat, and with a Cuban cigar between his gold-rimmed teeth."
    "And with his silk handkerchief hanging from his pocket."
    "And unarmed, clean as a whistle."
    "Unseizable; a civilian is allowed to stand on whatever bridge he likes."
    "And there Luku Obrian stood, and there she came, our Madeleine, in her new lovely dress, with the skirt not too short and the cleavage not too visible. Our lady."
    "And she knelt for him."
    "And she opened his fly."
    "I don't want to hear it," Grijpstra said.
    "And then?" Cardozo asked.
    "Now, what do you think?" Karate asked. "Eh? At her leisure, softly and firmly, as if there was nothing she'd rather do. As if she were grateful for the favor he bestowed."
    It was quiet around the table. Adjutant Adèle looked at her nails, transparently lacquered, perfectly filed. Grijpstra killed his cigarette in the ashtray, slowly, ferociously. Karate and Ketchup sagged back into their chairs and sighed. Jurriaans drew a circle with a sharp pencil on a fresh page of his notebook. De Gier waited for his blush to fade away.
    "And Madeleine?" de Gier asked.
    "She continued to work," Jurriaans said, "but not for long, because Obrian soaked all her money out of her and the heroin he supplied her with was never enough. She hung herself from the lamp in her room. I still have her file, complete with photographs. I'll show it to you whenever you have a spare minute."
    Grijpstra felt in his pocket, produced the cigar he had put away, made it crackle near his ear, smelled it, and put it on the table. He watched the cigar. He mumbled.
    De Gier mumbled too.
    "You two sound surprised," Adjutant Adèle said.
    "I'm always surprised," de Gier said, "if I don't pay attention. That's because I believe in certain limits, which I must have made myself, since reality makes fun of limits. Take this morning, for instance—three roller-skating gentlemen carrying new briefcases, and it wasn't four o'clock yet and now this Obrian again, on a cast-iron bridge, sucking his Communist straw while the lady whore sucks him, in full view of everybody."
    "Never mind," Grijpstra said. He took a deep breath. He scraped his throat. "Look here. The number of whores is not unlimited. If Obrian got more, others got less. It is a human habit to become angry when something is taken away. I have heard names; Gustav and Lennie. How angry did those pimps get, and what would they be likely to do once something made them angry?"
    Jurriaans smiled. "That's the way to go, adjutant. A cause deducted from its effect, via the relentless logic with which every policeman has been suitably equipped. I am glad you're with us." He drew two circles. "Who are our suspects? All criminal types out in these streets. How many remain once we have applied discernment to our thoughtful structure? Two." He pricked centers into his circles. "Who are our suspects now? Gustav and Lennie. The cheerful satisfaction of Obrian was the biting pain of his rivals. Do we acknowledge the right motivation in our suspects Gustav and Lennie? We do. Did they have the opportunity? They did. Do we grab them?" His pencil stabbed the circles. "We certainly do."
    Jurriaans bent over to Grijpstra. "This, adjutant, is our opportunity. We will clean out the quarter so thoroughly that our streets will be clean forever. We have the blessing of your commissaris, the chief of detectives who—could it be better?—has left on sick leave at once. In his name we will slash away in, under, and above. Thank you, Karate."
    He took the handkerchief that Karate was offering and dabbed at the spittle that was bubbling in the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward again and extended his hands. His index fingers became pistol barrels. Soundless bullets streaked past Grijpstra's ears. "Do you realize the power we have been given? Our power added to yours? Our station joined by the Murder Brigade? Without any restrictions from above?"
    "Attaboy," said Adjutant Adèle.
    "We