A mass of scratches, lines, and swirls – evidence of a thousand cuffs being dragged across it – covered the surface of the steel table between Jaap and Rutte. Rutte’s lawyer, tanned, fresh-faced despite the hour, with a slick of black hair glinting in the overhead light, picked something off his ...
He’d turned up first thing in the morning and, judging by his clothes, tanned skin, and total arrogance, he was in the big league. How did someone like Haak – everything that she’d seen in the file on him had led her to believe he was a very minor piece of DNA in the rich primordial soup of Amste...