Why??

By Hans Boin

The police are completely in the dark. Their biggest question: what ties these men together. What does this woman have to do with and who did all this and most importantly why? Two detectives do their best, once a woman is found and enters the game, some clarification finally comes, but is it?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Queva Uitgevers
• Release date: Mar 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9789083294728

Book preview

Why??

Hans Boin

a crime story

All persons in this book were invented by the author. Any resemblance to deceased persons or persons still alive is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced and/or disclosed by printing, photocopying, microfilm, electronically by sound recording or reproduction equipment or by any other means without the prior written approval of the publisher.

First edition Dutch E-book: (C) 2022 Hans Boin

Original title: Kunst, Kaarten en Kogels

Cover design: FranciscoHaz711

ISBN: 978-908-322-57-08

NUR 305 Literary thriller

Translated: Deepl

First edition English E-book: (C) 2023 Hans Boin

English title: Why??

Cover design: FranciscoHaz711

ISBN: 978-908-329-47-28

NUR 305 Literary thriller

Queva Publishers

The Hague

[e-mail]

Previously published by the same author:

After all these years (2020) (Paper book: no longer available)

Na Al Die Jaren (2022) Dutch E-book

Kunst, Kaarten en Kogels (2021) Dutch E-book

After all these years (2022) English E-book

Everything used to be big.

Now it's just the trees.

In memoriam

Marja Toet

The mother of my children

* October 30, 1953

† August 3, 2021

A great loss for everyone.

For you!

1: Prologue

Achurch bell struck nine times, for the last time today. Just now, the sun had dipped below the western horizon. Even during the evening, it was still sweltering.

The lone man walked on to the bridge with weary strides. Sweat ran down his face in jets, but he did not wipe them away.

He was busy! He had a mission! For today! Before midnight! In the distance the bridge was visible, slowly and a little limping he approached the bridge. He walked up, the walking up made his right knee hurt more and more. The man carried a bag on his back and he was heavy, but the burden pressing on his shoulders was many times heavier.

Now he pulled even more with his knee. Finally, he was there; he looked down over the edge and estimated the height at eight meters, just right for his mission. An inch thick rope he took from his backpack and tied it to the railing of the bridge. To test whether the knot was secure, he pulled on it a few times. He nodded affirmatively. That was the signal to undress. The clothes went into the bag, from which the rope just came out. For a moment he rolled the rope through his hands and found the other end, made a loop of it, put his head through the loop and pulled it until he felt the rope all around. Then he climbed over the railing, looked around a bit more. In the distance, cars were driving down the highway on their way home. He wasn't, he wasn't going home again.

It was quiet, dead silent. The trees no longer moved; the night birds held their beaks together. It seemed as if nature was also holding its breath for a moment. Without hesitation, he jumped soundlessly into the depths. In a split second he saw his great love before him. He spoke to him, sorry for everything, terribly sorry for doing this to you. The rope was taut with a jerk, for a moment he gagged, the second jerk came, his mission was accomplished, as quickly and silently as a secret military action.

The emergency center received a call from a freighter on the river just before half past six. The skipper reported that there was a naked man hanging from a rope, halfway up the middle part of the bridge right in the middle of the channel. The boat traffic was already stopped, the skipper of the freighter had already done so. Every vessel was notified not to proceed until further notice and that applied to all vessels.

Within half an hour, a large police force and fire department were on the scene. Traffic was stopped on both sides of the bridge. The fire department had trouble recovering the man. The crane could not get to him because of the bridgehead's many small openings. From the side, it was much too far. Meanwhile, the municipal medical examiner, Dr. Ter Wiel, with thirty years of experience, had arrived. The doctor looked over the railing and assessed the situation and said to the fire department commander, "I am absolutely against hoisting this man. The possibility of more damage to the body is too great. Call in the engineer troops, by helicopter if necessary. With large strides, the doctor legged away to his car to take notes.

Just under two hours later, the first army trucks drove onto the bridge. As in a rehearsed army exercise, the soldiers parked the trucks on the bridge. The first group of soldiers got out of the trucks and immediately began unloading the crates. Three soldiers walked toward the railing.

A small briefing followed and the men began to put on the climbing harnesses. They pulled on various fasteners, harps, and buckles. Everything was securely fastened. Then the three men checked the belts with each other entirely according to the rules. All fasteners were secure and secured.

The cables of the electric winches were attached to the belts and controlled by the soldiers.

They stepped over the railing and lowered themselves, millimeter by millimeter, until they were level with the man. The two soldiers each worked their way to one side of the man.

This was not easy, he rocked a lot, the smell of the urine he had let out after he died did not make it any easier either. They fastened an extra line under his shoulders.

A slight form of body stiffness had already occurred despite the heat.

From the bridge, the other soldiers lowered a stretcher vertically. They followed the directions of the men near the corpse, and so the stretcher came to hang at the correct height behind the man. Lashing down was tricky, both the man, and the stretcher rocked considerably. But once the first strap was secured, the other two went much easier. The stretcher was first brought horizontal. One of the soldiers signaled with his hand, and carefully and quietly the stretcher with the man was lifted. Rebecca, the police photographer, took pictures from all sides.

There, the stretcher was grabbed, lifted over the railing, and placed on a cart. The medical examiner stood by and looked at the man's injuries. The rope had cut into his neck and had crushed the trachea. He tested the temperature with gun and read that the temperature had dropped a few degrees below normal.

'One luck for that man, dead on impact, I estimate a minimum of six hours and a maximum of 10 hours,' he spoke in a reverent tone.

'Just bring him to my office.' The stretcher with the man on it was taken in a closed car to the morgue for identification and further examination.

The two soldiers were already back on the bridge, removing their belts. The commander gave permission to signal to the boatmen that they could proceed. From the sound of it, the boatmen were clearly responding. They had already lost a lot of time waiting uselessly.

An officer had found the blue backpack further up the bridge. Very carefully he put the bag in a large plastic bag. The officer who had found the backpack stuck a tag on it with the place, date, and time of finding it and his number. No other traces or objects had been found by the police. One by one, the trucks with the soldiers drove away; their job was done. The bridge was pretty much empty. Two policemen waved their arms to direct traffic for a few more minutes, and after a few minutes that, too, was running as well as ever.

The car with the dead man in it was not allowed to drive fast, therefore Doctor Ter Wiel arrived at the morgue much earlier.

He parked his car and walked to his workspace and turned on several devices ahead of time. Warming up and logging in the systems took a while. Then he walked to the reception area for acceptance.

The car was still not there; there was nothing to do but wait.

Walking back and forth down the hall, he pondered the suicide. There was something strange about this case, but what?

Finally, the man was on the table ready for the first examinations.

His right hand was placed on a scanning plate for fingerprints. Doctor Ter Wiel pressed a button and the scanner began warming up. After the scanner rolled under it a few times, the prints were automatically stored with the man's file, and soon after, the left hand followed. With a cotton swab, Dr. Ter Wiel took some mucus from his throat and nose. This set of swabs was sent to the Netherlands Forensic Institute for recognition with a name from the database. Everyone knows that the results take at least a week before anything could come out, and usually it is a negative message: 'No matches' it reads.

Doctor Ter Wiel covered the naked man with a sheet. The special plastic bags containing his clothes and backpack were stored in a safe. Those items would later receive an extensive examination by another specialized team, however. His job as head of the department was to examine the man himself. The doctor turned on the computer, logged into the system and entered a new person with the data he had received from the officers.

Half an hour later he removed the sheet from the man and looked at him closely, after some time he turned on the recording equipment:

'Male aged thirty to forty-five, with no external features of tattoo or piercing, wears no glasses, marks on nose missing. Ears are clean, no bum. Nails are also clean and neatly trimmed. No rings or prints of rings around fingers, no calluses on ring fingers. No watch present, though slight imprint of a watch on his left wrist. So right-handed. He put the recording device on pause.

The doctor looked into his mouth. It was miraculous that he still had all his teeth, only with some very small fillings. That made recognition a lot harder; there had most likely never been any photographs of his jaw. He took the pause mode off the machine and spoke again, "Clean and good teeth, only a few small fillings in the molars, body completely hairless except for dark blond eyebrows, well kept.

Doctor Ter Wiel took another look at his body and thought the body had probably been lasered. His chest, groin, and legs, even his arms were impeccably smooth. There was no eczema between his toes. He had to conclude that the man was either super healthy or maniacally obsessively clean on his body. With a spatula he tried to scrape some of his armpit fluids, which failed, and likewise some from his forehead. All that came from there was some dirt that was also in the air.

Doctor Paul Ter Wiel pulled back the skin of his genitals and with a special cotton swab he rubbed along it, then he put that swab in a little tube and closed it. Wrote on a sticker what it was and stuck that on the small tube.

'Left and right on his scrotum is a small scar, it could be that he had been sterilized.'

That was interesting. A minority of men were getting sterilized.

'Attention: vasectomy examination. Blood test and eyebrow hair examination. No dirt between teeth and nails of his hands or toes. The only hairs are head hairs: the eyelashes and eyebrows, have these examined. No other hair can be found on the whole body. Request for further internal examination in throat and intestines is desired or highly desirable. Consult with justice on this matter. End of initial examination. The doctor clicked off the recording system.

Time for coffee, the doctor thought, and he took off his rubber gloves and threw them away. Then he took off his gray coat, hanging it on the hook.

Paul walked over to the coffee machine and pressed coffee with milk. The machine simmered for a moment and first dropped a plastic cup and almost poured it full of coffee, a small splash of milk came right after. The small screen said the cup could be taken out. He took the cup from the device and walked a few steps into the hallway and stood against the wall. All the while he had a few questions, why is he so clean, why did that man hang himself, why exactly in the middle of the bridge and exactly in the middle between water and the floor of the bridge? What does he want to say with this? Between each thought he took a sip.

The coffee had run out. He threw the cup away in the container for plastic cups. In his examination room, he put on a clean coat and grabbed new gloves from the box; thinking deeply, he put them on. He had not yet been able to unravel the secret of the bridge's center and height.

He set up the system for recording and looked at the dead man.

John, a much younger fellow doctor came in, Hi Paul, is a second pair of eyes helpful to you, he asked the doctor who was now hovering over the man's throat.

'Ah John, please, but I have another question for you first.'

"I'm curious.

He pointed to the man on the table.

"Why did he hang himself exactly in the middle of the bridge and exactly between the water and the bridge, that must mean something, but what? He looked at John. His face radiated wonder.

'I haven't thought of that yet. Maybe he can tell us a little more when we open it.'

'No John don't start cutting right away. This was a suicide that has a lot more to it than a man who wanted to be dead. My gut says this place stands for something, something that was important to him. But what?

'Okay,' John spoke slowly.

'John, how long have you been here?'

'Coming October two years.'

"How do you like it here?

'How do I not radiate that?'

'That's not my question.'

'I more than like it, I find this work extremely interesting, besides my medical and anatomy interests, I often have to think out of the box here, I love that.'

'True, and you're getting better at it. Therefore, why in the middle of the bridge and the middle of the bridge and the water? Now John understood, what his mentor wanted to tell him.

It is indeed more than a suicide.

'Paul, can I go to the bridge with a photographer later, I have a few ideas, she should shoot some pictures for me.'

'Don't you have any work that needs to be done today?'

'No, there is no work lying out to dry. Everything is safe.'

'Go and take a few more.' John ran straight to the phone and called the woman who had also just taken pictures of the dead man.

'Hi, it's John, when do you have time to go to that bridge with me and take a few extra pictures for the file?' There was silence on the phone for a moment.

'Okay, right after lunch, will you come to my place? Which car are we going in, yours or mine? Again, he was silent for a moment.

'All right, I'll drive. See you later and thanks in advance.' John wanted to turn to Paul and before he could say anything Paul said, 'Yes, I heard it too: after lunch. Come here John, what does this mean?

He pointed to the dead man's right hand, between the tips on the inside of the index and middle fingers. John looked at it. 'He also has something near the tip on his thumb.'

'Is that a place for calluses?'

Paul looked at him, "Could it be something else? John shrugged, picked up a flat shovel and held it between those three fingers. Extensively he looked at it. His fingers did not make the same contact in those places that the man had. An oval handle gave much better results, then he tried a round handle. That, like the flat stem, was an outright miss. The last was a stem that was oval, not really pointed, rather straight. That was correct. John walked over to the man on the table, he sat down on a small stool and drew on his glove the spots where he had the calluses. Then he wet the straight oval handle with some dye and grabbed the oval handle again. After eight tries he had found the right position, to his surprise the spots he had just drawn were completely colored.

He walked with it to the senior chimney doctor, "Paul, I found the shape that can cause calluses in those areas. Look this shape.' He showed the spoon he had used for this purpose.

"How then? Still wearing his glove, he grabbed the spoon and showed it to him.

'What a strange attitude, does he have something on his hand? I think we should take a picture of that hand, or maybe you'll get your way.'

'Me, my way,' John asked.

'Yes, you wanted to cut anyway. This could be your chance doctor! John smiled, "Thank you doctor.

'But we're going to lunch first, will you join us, John?'

'Yes, I'm hungry, not eating enough this morning.'

'Or stayed up too late kid.'

'Paul, how do you do that, you kick my ass and I like it too. That can't be, I'm supposed to be mad at you because I didn't get up late.'

'No, then what? All your clocks were suddenly twenty minutes behind.'

'Yes, that was because of a power outage, didn't you have that?'

'No, my clocks run on batteries too, just for this kind of inconvenience.'

'Oh,' he lowered his head, 'I can't pay those, I don't get that much, because I earn more.'

'Yo, baby, go get porridge and put your bib on, or you'll spill again.'

'Yes Dad, I'll never do it again.'

'No kidding, why were you so late this morning, do you have a new girlfriend?'

'Yes, but it's still very early, we've been out four times and last night she slept with me for the first time.'

'Oh, so that's why. Okay fine, is it a sweet girl?'

'I think so, fortunately I see her very often.'

'Does she work here? Then who is it?

'That cute girl from this morning with the red hair, oh, just that hair alone drives me wild and then those eyes to go with it, I'm totally swooning now.'

'This morning, red hair? Do you mean the photographer.... Rebecca?

'Isn't she very beautiful? She does yoga, do you know how limber that can make you?'

'No John, I don't want to know that, just shut up.'

'I'll go first,' John said, then he walks quickly to the trays, takes one and walks a few paces, grabbing a couple of slices of brown bread and a currant bun. Three small packages of butter, from the refrigerator some deli meats and a quart of milk. Then he walks to the cash register, pays for everything contactless with a bank card and walks away.

Paul comes up beside him, Where are we going to sit? John looks around and then sees a free table for four in the corner, There," and walks over to that free table.

With his back to the wall, he sits down on a real hard canteen chair and begins to spread his bread. Across from him, on the other side of the cafeteria, there are large pictures of the dishes that can be ordered, the price, however, is set very small. Those pictures do not appeal. John walks to the counter and grabs a clean glass. Back to the table, he walks to talk to two girls from the financial records department. Laughing, they part ways.

'Which of those two is the next victim?'

'Do you know them then, what's the name of the one with the dark hair? What beautiful lips that child has, I would like to kiss them like that.' He hadn't noticed Rebecca standing behind him, Paul hadn't let on. He got a pat on the head, "As long as you get that out of your head, I'll scratch both your eyes out if you look at them again, did you get that Johnnie-boy? He was already bent over on the table with his hands over his head.

'Of course, Beckie, you know how crazy about you I am. Will you come sit next to me dear?

'What a terrible casanova you are, say. I almost felt sorry for you.'

Smiling, John stood up, "Bye honey, long time no see.

"One more look and you never look at me again, understand? He grabbed her and placed a kiss on her cheek.

'You're absolutely right again. I won't do it again honey, I really won't.'

'I hope you really do, John. She's a lady.'

'Thank you, Dr. Ter Wiel, for these encouraging words. I hope the same for him. How long is the procedure for a new doctor, by the way?'

'From September to December quite short, from January to June long and very long in those last months. Why?

'I don't want to get your department in trouble, without eyes you have no use for him and you need to find another doctor. You'll be watching until the end of August for now little guy.' Paul shot into laughter, a hearty and entertaining laugh, "Boy, you really have brought in a thoroughbred, listen to her well and you will be fine. John looked first at Paul, then at Rebecca and back at Paul. Rebecca had big fiery eyes, one wrong word and they sprayed fire.

But in a quiet way he spoke, 'Paul, I know how she is, now she looks like a witch, but underneath is such a terribly sweet girl, when you really see her, you just want to hug her. Come here old grump of mine," he put an arm over her shoulders and kissed her. Rebecca ran a hand through his hair.

'You know how to bring it well; you get extra time.' She also gave him a kiss on the cheek.

'Now I want to eat, because we have to leave soon, so you have to hurry too, I don't feel like waiting for you.'

John looked at Paul, Don't you really feel a little sorry for me? He felt another knock on his head, 'Don't chat, keep eating.' Before he even finished eating, Rebecca walked away, John, I'll grab my bag of stuff and meet you at the car in a minute, okay? He only raised his thumb; he just stuffed a currant bun in his mouth. A moment later he walked after Paul, this one had already walked out the door.

John stood by the railing on the bridge looking at the water in the distance. He was now looking into the sun; the picture might look good.

'Rebecca, I want one or more pictures, I'll leave that up to you, but in such a way that I have the bridge right in front of me. How far away should you stand from it? To one side or even further and then with a telephoto lens?'

"I don't know that yet. She walked to the middle of the bridge and looked straight ahead. From there, she looked first to the left and then to the right. The right bank had more vegetation and was in better shape. But the left shore curved slightly left.

'I'm going to take some pictures on the left side first and then I expect the right side can give some better pictures. Can you go ahead and ask that farmer over there if we can borrow his boat, from the water it's much easier to get a good picture.'

'No, I'll just go with you, for the same money you'll splash in the water, then we'll both have a wet suit and I don't feel like it.'

'Don't act like it, but well, well cozy. Come boyfriend.'

Only by five o'clock were they back in the office, she had only taken about fifty pictures. Which also had to be sorted out. She had also brought a small drone, one of those you don't need a registration for. With that she could take pictures nicely in front of the bridge at any height. They then went for a walk in all directions of the bridge. Also took pictures with the drone. Carrying it was a tough job. Not the drone, but the suitcase with all the auxiliary attributes, such as extra power supplies.

'If you come and sleep with me, we can look at those pictures together early tomorrow.'

'I have a better plan, come sleep with me, then I can put them right on my computer and in the cloud, there they are safer than on your PC.'

'Fine, any other plans for tomorrow? If we're only going to do that, I won't need anything, otherwise I'll have to drive via home and bring some clothes.'

'Do that, I like clean clothes, especially underclothes,' she spoke with a laugh.

Paul had nothing to do that Saturday; his wife Anna was shopping with their daughter Julian and granddaughter Debbie. That little bugger was growing out of every piece of clothing. After coffee, they had left right away. Grandpa had received another firm hug and three hundred kisses all over his face and Debbie had received five hundred back from Grandpa.

Both happy.

He went back to his desk for a moment; his office was the examination room. Behind his desk he looked at the pictures of the John Doe, which was now his temporary name until his own name was known. Slowly he suddenly saw more pictures coming in. Photos of the bridge and later the photos and video the drone had taken. Geez, that girl can take really good pictures, why didn't she become a portrait photographer, there is more to be earned in that than as a police photographer. The pictures taken right in front of the bridge were beautiful, especially with the sun shining through. The sun half shone through the bridge, the trees reflected on the water, the wind gave a slightly wavy image to it. This should be a painting,