DeKok grinned cheerfully. His melancholy face lit up with a boyish delight.

"Yes, indeed, a barefaced lie."

21.

Little Lowee looked the worst for wear. Apparently he had forcefully tried to resist arrest. His black necktie now hung on his back and part of his shirt hung out of his trousers. He wiped the sweat off his face with the sleeve of his torn jacket.

"Seeing as we've known each other for so long," he spat, "I woulda thought you'd come yourself and not send one of your errand boys. Whatsa matter, was you scared to do your own dirty work?" He snorted in disgust. "And all that brouhaha. Half the Quarter was in uproar. You couldn't walk for the cops. The streets were almost blue with 'em. Dammit, I ain't Al Capone."

DeKok glanced at Vledder who made some notes at the next desk. For once it was relatively quiet in the detective room. Just one other plain clothed man was working on something or other at the far side of the room.

DeKok returned his gaze to Little Lowee and waited calmly until he finished venting his anger. He understood full well why the slender barkeeper was so upset. He would much rather have taken a different course of action himself, but time was pressing. He could not afford to wait any longer.

When the stream of invective finally dried up, DeKok carefully placed his elbows on the desk, folded his hands underneath his chin and looked at Lowee with a smile on his face.

"I don't even need you."

It sounded especially laconic and took Lowee's breath away.

Lowee swallowed.

"But that's false arr..."

DeKok raised a restraining hand.

"Please understand me. I do have formal grounds for keeping you here several hours. But I don't want you at all, at all."

"Don't want me?"

DeKok shook his head.

"I want the boys from the hold-up."

Lowee looked at him in surprise.

"And for that you up and arrest me?"

DeKok nodded slowly.

"With, as you said, a lot of brouhaha. I wanted everybody in the neighborhood to know that Little Lowee had been arrested and taken to Warmoes Street. And I wanted to make sure that everybody knew it was for the hold-up and ... the murder of Pete Geffel." He pushed his lower lip forward. "You see, I know my customers. I'm sure that somebody is informing the guys at this very moment."

Lowee looked at the Inspector with suspicion in his eyes.

"So what?"

DeKok grinned in a friendly way.

"So, then I expect them to come forward to tell me something I have known all along ... that you had nothing to do with the hold-up, or the murder."

The barkeeper nodded understanding.

"I'm the bait."

"More or less." DeKok sighed deeply and changed his tone of voice. "I've always liked you Lowee," he said earnestly. "And I've always appreciated you. Still do. There's few like you. You're honest."

The barkeeper grimaced.

"Big deal. That and a quarter don't even get me a cuppa coffee."

DeKok ignored the remark.

"When you," he continued unperturbed, "didn't want to give me the names of the boys ... not even after I dragged you to Pete's funeral, I figured you didn't do it necessarily for profit. You had to be convinced that the guys you protected were innocent of Pete's death." He made a gesture with a hand that seemed to say it all. "Otherwise you would never have helped them and you would never have kept your mouth shut." He paused again and scratched the back of his neck. He looked embarra.s.sed. "Actually," he added, "your att.i.tude toward those boys is the real reason for your arrest."

"What?"

"I'm speculating on your ability to judge people."

Lowee slapped his narrow chest in utter astonishment.

"My ... what?"

DeKok nodded.

"Yes, if you have gauged the guys correctly, if you think they are really 'trustworthy', then they'll give themselves up, rather than see an innocent person suffer for their crimes. They'll want to protect you from 'the jaws of justice', you see?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"And what iffen they sees right through you? What then, you clever d.i.c.k?"

DeKok spread his arms wide in a gesture of surrender.

"I give them three hours. If they haven't given themselves up in that time, I let you go."

The phone on his desk rang at that moment. DeKok lifted the receiver and listened. Little Lowee looked intently at the face of the Inspector, trying to guess what the conversation was about. But DeKok's poker-face did not change. It remained even, expressionless. A steel mask.

After a few seconds DeKok replaced the receiver. Slowly he rose from his chair and waved toward the door.

"Put your shirt back into your pants, straighten your tie and leave. You're free to go."

For just an instant the barkeeper hesitated, then he stood up and left the detective room without another word. DeKok accompanied him part of the way.

"Don't poison my cognac, tomorrow."

The answer was lost in the sound of the slamming door.

"I heard you arrested Little Lowee."

DeKok stared into the friendly open face of a tall, somewhat awkward young man.

"That is correct."

The young man smiled shyly.

"I came to tell you that Little Lowee wasn't part of the hold-up. He also knows nothing about Pete Geffel's murder."

DeKok nodded with pursed lips.

"That," he said, "is an extremely clarifying announcement."

The young man c.o.c.ked his head to one side and pulled on his left earlobe.

"Lowee is innocent. I know that."

"So?"

"Yes, my brother and I committed the robbery. We're guilty. We held up the money transport."

DeKok did not react immediately. His sharp gaze travelled from the open sandals and baggy pants to the red corduroy jacket with leather patches on the elbows. He studied the full mouth and the weak chin and questioned seriously how this friendly personality could have committed an armed robbery. He looked too guileless, almost artistic.

"You and your brother?"

There was a distinct tone of suspicion in his voice.

The young man nodded.

"My brother conveys his regrets. He wanted to come along, but he was unable to do so. He's in bed and still very weak. A rather disreputable, but obviously competent person did take two bullets out of his back." Again he gave DeKok a shy smile. "One of your people found it necessary to shoot at us," he added.

DeKok made an apologetic gesture.

"After all, you did find it necessary to be armed when you robbed the transport." He smiled. "How is your brother?" There was warm interest in his voice.

The young man pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Now that the bullets have been removed, he's fast improving. Not in small part because of Little Lowee's a.s.sistance, I might add. We owe him a lot. Lowee is one in a thousand."

DeKok nodded slowly.

"I know," he said resignedly. "His arrest was a mistake, a psychological blunder. Therefore I released him immediately."

Something flickered momentarily in the young man's eyes.

"Released?"

DeKok looked at him, a question in his eyes.

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

The young man nodded emphatically.

"Indeed, yes. That's why I came. As soon as my brother and I heard about his arrest, we knew it was our duty to report in."

"And the third man?"

For the first time the young man showed a serious expression. The boyish appearance left his guileless face.

"There was no third man."

DeKok's eyebrows vibrated like the antennae of an insect. Both Vledder and the young man took a sudden interest in the phenomenon. As usual, DeKok was totally unaware of the effect. His eyebrows did seem to live a life of their own.

"That's strange," remarked DeKok. "Three people were observed. There's no doubt about that."

The young man shook his head, unable to tear his gaze away from DeKok's forehead.

"There was no third man."

DeKok sighed elaborately. His eyebrows subsided.

"Who," he asked patiently, "got out of a blue Simca behind the Central Station and threatened the guards with weapons?"

"My brother and I."

DeKok grinned. For a moment it looked like the young man would grin in return at the irresistible charm DeKok displayed at such moments. Then he took note of DeKok's words.

"Who was the third man, behind the wheel?"

The young man bowed his head.

"We ... eh, my brother and I," he said softly, hesitating slightly, "my brother and I have decided to take full responsibility."

"Responsibility for what?"

"For the robbery and..." his voice broke for a moment. He bit his lower lip and then uttered: "... and the murder."

"What murder?'

"The murder of Pete Geffel."

DeKok's mouth compressed into a narrow, implacable line.