The Maine Massacre by Janwillem van de Wetering

went to the funeral. I didn't know Pete so well and I didn't want to see his wife cry. I am sure my father is interested in the Opdijk house. I'll telephone. We live in a house just behind this office. Just a minute, please."
    She replaced the telephone. "He's on his way. So Suzanne wants to go back to Amsterdam, does she? I've heard about Amsterdam, a magical city, I believe. Are you and your friend from Amsterdam, sir?"
    "We are, miss."
    "You're in business out there?"
    "No, Miss Astrinsky. I am a police officer and so is Sergeant deGier."
    Madelin's voice stayed on the same polite level. "Police officers? How exciting! What branch of the police, sir?"
    "Homicide, Miss Astrinsky."
    Madelin smiled at the sergeant, and de Gier was preparing to return the smile when the back door of the room opened.
    A blusterer, de Gier thought when it was his turn to shake the heavy man's hand. The realtor had a loud, deep voice that hooted sonorously, as if he had swallowed a Swiss Alpine trumpet. Michael Astrinsky said the right things. Very sorry that the accident happened. Opdijk had been a good friend. Good old Pete. A fellow Blue Crustacean. Friendship based on many years of mutual understanding. Would sure miss him. Poor Suzanne. Glad to meet her brother. Suzanne often talked about her brother. Here he was, all the way from across the ocean. House to be sold. A pity that Suzanne would leave too, but understandable under the circumstances. Yes.
    "Did you know that Suzanne's brother is a police officer, dad?"
    Astrinsky lit a cigarette. He dropped it. "No, are you really?"
    "Yes, Mr. Astrinsky. From Amsterdam."
    Madelin looked at de Gier. "Homicide, dad. Mr. de..."
    "Gier," de Gier said.
    "The sergeant is also a police officer, dad."
    Astrinsky had lit the cigarette at the wrong end. Madelin took it out of his mouth and killed it in the ashtray on the desk.
    "The sergeant is studying with the local police, Mr. Astrinsky, and I came out to help Suzanne. The house is to be sold as soon as possible. Suzanne asked me to come and see you," the commissaris said.
    Astrinsky lit another cigarette and looked sad. "A quick sale, yes, that could be arranged. I might be interested myself, but, unfortunately, values aren't what they used to be some years ago. This is a cold comer of the country, with a very short summer season. We used to have a lot of people summering up here, but the fashion has changed. They seem to prefer the warmer states in the South; Florida, California. The sun states offer holidays all year round and here, well, you can see for yourself. The climate is so fierce that it seems to be out to kill us all some times. Just too damn cold."
    "I see."
    "I could list the house, of course, and try to sell it in the summer."
    "No, Suzanne wants to buy an apartment in Amsterdam, and she needs a lot of cash now."
    Astrinsky walked around his desk, his hands in the pockets of an immaculate tweed jacket. A well-dressed man, but flabby.
    "I could take the house off her hands for cash, but I couldn't pay more than, say, thirty thousand."
    "Thirty thousand," the commissaris said.
    "In summer I might get a little more perhaps, but it wouldn't be cash. The trouble with the Cape Orca properties is that they don't seem to move at all. There are a number of empty houses on the cape. There's some problem with the right of way. The rest of the cape belongs to Janet Wash, and, technically, she owns the roads. They're maintained by the town, but Janet gets the bill. She has never been difficult about allowing other residents to use the roads, but newcomers don't like to feel restricted."
    "I see."
    Astrinsky brightened up. "But I would like to do something for Suzanne. The station wagon will be for sale too, and I can buy it at a good price. My own car is ready to be junked. I would pay whatever it's worth. The car is a year old. I would spend, say, sixty percent of the new price."
    "Thank you. Very good. I can't decide without consulting my sister, of