A State Of Sin Amsterdam Occult Series Book Two, Mark Hobson [notion reading list txt] 📗
![](/uploads/posts/books/3/2/6/1/7/kniga-a-state-of-sin-amsterdam-occult-series-book-two.jpg)
- Author: Mark Hobson
Book online «A State Of Sin Amsterdam Occult Series Book Two, Mark Hobson [notion reading list txt] 📗». Author Mark Hobson
Pieter got up from his chair and strolled around the attic room, thinking fast.
They would have to look into the Bakkers banking arrangements. Plus get access to their mobile records, their email correspondence, and their browser history. The fire damage would delay this, but remote access to the necessary details wouldn’t be too difficult, but it would take several days.
In the meantime, there was something he could be doing.
Pieter picked up his mobile from the desk and scrolled through the list of contacts from work. He found Kaatje Groot’s number, and after a moment’s hesitation, he messaged her.
HEY, YOU FANCY TAKING A TRIP IN THE MORNING?
He tucked the phone into his rear pocket and strolled over to the small dormer window. The earlier sleety weather had cleared, leaving a cloudless night sky sprinkled with stars. It would be cold tonight, with a heavy frost in the morning. Maybe the canals might freeze over this winter, which would be nice.
His phone buzzed with a reply, which read:
YES PLEASE ☺ WHERE ARE WE GOING BOSS?
He tapped out a response:
IT’S A SURPRISE. I’LL PICK YOU UP AT YOUR PLACE. 8am SHARP
Pieter hovered his finger over the mobile’s keypad and decided to add a smiley of his own at the end. He tapped SEND.
A couple of minutes later and Kaatje replied with her home address.
Sitting in his car across the street, Johan Roost followed the exchange of messages.
Chapter 7
The Basement
On the second morning, Nina Bakker was woken by the sound of the metal door scraping open, followed by the clomp-clomp of heavy work boots coming down the stairs.
She stirred, reluctant to open her eyes and come to full consciousness. She had been dreaming about her parents, a memory of the time last year when they had gone to Kinderdijk to see the windmills there, and Nina clung to the dream in desperation. But the images broke up in her mind, dissolving like the spring dew on the grass, and she rolled over on the bed. Sitting up, she looked across the basement room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
The man in the welder’s hood and boiler suit was back. He was standing by the small dining table, holding a tray of cereal and orange juice and toast, which smelled nice. He placed it on the wooden surface and then turned to her, his body posture non-threatening but still guarded, hanging back as though not quite sure what to do next.
Through the narrow visor his eyes, which during his visits yesterday she’d seen were a clear blue colour and soft, so soft, appraised her calmly, and despite the horrible situation she was in Nina no longer felt quite so scared.
Yesterday had been her first full day here, and sitting on the edge of the bed now, and looking back at him, she thought back, her mind going over the previous day’s events.
Like today he had brought her breakfast. She’d no idea of the time but presumed it must be quite early. Through the leather hood, he had mumbled a quick hello, and then left, locking the door behind him.
Sliding off her bed and still wearing the same clothes that she’d been wearing the night before when she had been snatched from her home and her parents, Nina had cautiously approached the dining table. He’d brought her hot pancakes with syrup, a glass of fruit juice and a bowl of yoghurt and apple slices. Looking at it, with her tummy rumbling, she’d realized just how famished she was, and so she’d sat in one of the chairs and ate ravenously, keeping one eye on the door at the top of the stairs.
Finishing her breakfast, Nina stayed seated and cast her eyes around the room again, once more taking in the basement area. She thought about taking a shower as she felt grubby and smelly, but was too nervous to place herself in a potentially vulnerable position like that. At least not yet, not until she knew she could trust him. He’d made it quite clear last night that he didn’t intend to do anything weird but until she felt more at ease, washing and showering could wait for now. But what she could do was quickly change her clothes.
Stacking up her breakfast things and leaving them on the table – presumably he would return and collect them at some point – Nina stepped back into the sleeping section of the basement, her bedroom she guessed she should call it, and opened the wardrobe and chest of drawers.
Inside she saw freshly laundered and folded t-shirts and pyjamas, socks and undergarments, jumpers and tops, and hanging up on coat hangers were a variety of jeans and leggings and a dressing gown, thicker fleeces and cardigans. At the bottom there were several pairs of footwear such as deck shoes, plimsolls, and some pink fluffy slippers. There were other items such as clean sheets and spare blankets for the bed, a hot water bottle, sanitary products and soaps and shampoos, even a cuddly teddy bear tucked up on a shelf.
In one of the drawers was a paper laundry bag. She quickly changed, putting on fresh clothes and hoping he wasn’t spying on her – strangely, she sensed he wasn’t – and dumped her old clothes into the bag, but she kept back her running shoes and tucked them under her bed. Then she dropped the dirty laundry by the table.
Next Nina decided to explore her new surroundings.
First of all, she went over to the couch and sat staring at the TV. Reaching for the remote, she pressed the power button and the screen came to life. She’d intended to go straight to the news channels RTL.NL or BVN TV, hoping to see something about herself or her parents on the breakfast news shows. But as soon as the screen lit up her heart sank. The television set was pre-tuned to channel AV1. There was no
Comments (0)