Download Bombarie om een bunker by Willy van der Heide PDF

By Willy van der Heide

Drie vrienden komen op het spoor van smokkel in schilderijen, opgezet door twee Amerikaanse soldaten die in Duitsland een bunker met in de oorlog uit Italië gestolen kunstwerken hebben ontdekt.

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I can’t remember,’ I lied. ‘Yes you can. ’ ‘I was not! ’ ‘Because it’s the ordinary law-abiding people who go crazy and walk into primary schools and open fire on a class of kids; compared to that, crims use guns responsibly. ’ ‘You said criminals should have guns; that’s a quote. ’ ‘I don’t think it’s anything—’ ‘You probably missed the way we developed that,’ I told her. ‘We decided only extroverts and nutters should get guns, crims or not. Because it’s always the quiet ones that go mad. Ever noticed that?

Good point. ’ Kul asked. ’ I said. Kul had a bit of a sheen on him; looked a little glassy-eyed. It never did take much to get him drunk. ’ ‘Umm, well …’ Most of the people at the party were taking turns to throw things over the parapet. For a dedicatedly minimalist couple, Faye and Kul had a surprising amount of stuff they weren’t going to miss when they quit the loft: quite a lot of old kitchen bits and pieces, like bowls, plates, jars, a broken juicer, a defunct Thermos flask, some outdated goblets, a bilious green fondue set … then a handful of ornaments they’d been given by Faye’s parents, which they’d never liked or ever displayed but had kept in case the old couple ever came to visit (the ornaments were, like Faye’s parents, pretty hideous), followed by bigger stuff as Faye and Kul got into it and people started to cam-cord what was happening: an old hi-fi system, a bust TV, a misbehaving radio, and bottles; lots of bottles.

No. I see. Yeah. Yeah. ’ Kul asked, leaning on the parapet and glancing at Jo, who was a few paces away now and giving the finger to her phone while still making noises into it. ’ I looked at him. ’ I asked softly, also glancing at Jo. ’ He just grinned. I leaned on the parapet too, looking down at the gradually browning flesh of the apple. ‘I don’t think so. ’ My ex was currently shacked up with a cop in sunny Luton. ’ Kul asked. ’ I shrugged. Slightly dodgy territory here, as Jude and I did meet up now and again and on a few of those occasions had - despite all the bitterness and recriminations and other usual failed-marriage stuff - ended up falling into bed.

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