Hours later, the weakened sunlight fading, the rain finally stops. There’s so much water in the air I can taste the humidity in the wind that whips through my clothing, hunting for gaps. We have stopped twice for restroom breaks, where Filip, to my surprise, pulled out a package of cigarettes to smoke. They offered to share their thermoses of tea and coffee with me, plus a lunch of salami sandwiches on light brown bread. I could not eat a bite. The mysterious expanse of water surrounds us, swelling and ebbing, and a cold dampness crawls underneath my clothing and burrows itself next to my heart.
This is the third time we’ve passed over the same territory. Karin explained that the breeze could be blowing the wrong way or the precise area obstructed by a passing vessel. The dog in training, Feyenoord, has grown agitated and jumped into the water twice now. My heart almost stopped each time until Karin indicated a false alarm.
She says, “Even if we find something, most of the time, it will be a mistake. So do not get alarmed if the dogs act. If there has been a lot of human contact inside a vehicle, the dogs could be reacting to that. We do hope to find our victims alive. The dogs are trained to search for life as well as corpses, so if there is a sunken automobile that has had many passengers, they might jump. And there are a large number of cars hidden in Dutch waters. People drive them in by accident or to cover up crimes like insurance fraud or carjacking.”
“Or to hide a body.” Filip stares into the distance, his posture rigid and tense.
I’m wondering if I’ve wasted everyone’s time and we are on the wrong track altogether when we turn onto the Amsterdam-Rhine Canal. The water feels surprisingly deep despite the fact we are not far from shore. The bank is lined with tall trees, swaying in the wind. I spot a grassy area behind a small group of ducks bobbing on the waves.
I press my lips together and cover my mouth with my hand. I will not burst into tears. Karin will make me leave. Still, my voice is broken as I say, “Sylvie loves places like that. She’s always had a thing for picnics.”
Karin says to Filip, “Can you take us closer to that spot?”
His face grim, he steers us toward the shore. Nothing happens. We draw closer and closer and then, for the first time, Ajax starts to wag his tail and bark. Feyenoord follows his lead. I am holding my breath. Both dogs jump into the water at the same time. They swim ahead of us, surprisingly quick, and then start turning in circles, barking maddeningly the entire time.
My chest seizes. Despite everything, I pray this is a mistake. I wish I could turn back the clock to a few minutes ago. I realize I prefer ignorance. If Sylvie is truly gone, I don’t want to know because the grief will tear my heart into pieces. I wish I wore my glasses so I could take them off for a respite from all this clear air, the sharpness of the waves in the water, the icy fear of what we might find. But I cannot. I must be as brave as Sylvie. I will not look away.
Karin is checking the machine she told me was the 360-degree sonar. “I can see from the Humminbird that there is something down there—probably a car.” She narrows her eyes at the bank. “If someone had driven off the road at high speed, aiming between the trees there, they would land right about here.”
At my stricken face, she says, “There is no indication that this has anything to do with your sister.” She whistles and the dogs clamber back onto the boat, spraying water everywhere.
Filip’s face is hard and unrelenting. “Except that this was described as a place she often passed on her route. I want to go in.”
Karin shakes her head. “Alone? We should wait until at least one other diver gets here.”
I am chewing so hard on my lips, I taste blood. My hands are clammy and I can’t seem to stop blinking. My heart is about to explode out of my body. I can’t sit here waiting for more people to come, not knowing. “Please. Please let him go. Just for a quick look.”
Karin hesitates, and says, “All right, but be careful. If there are any difficulties at all, come back up.”
Filip is already stripping off his waterproof coveralls. He pulls on the rest of his diving gear, his goggles. His eyes meet mine for a moment before he splashes into the water.
He doesn’t come up and he doesn’t come up. I can hear Karin calling people and speaking in Dutch. I pray to the gods. Please, let this not be Sylvie. It’s not possible. Maybe this has nothing at all to do with my sister. It’s some drug lord or, like Karin said, insurance fraud. I deeply regret ever having called Epsilon. I should have left it alone, like Lukas wanted. For the first time, I understand his denial. I would not be sitting on this boat then, wondering if my sister . . . I cannot even finish the thought.
Suddenly, Filip breaks the surface beside me. I jump. He hangs on to the side of the boat and pulls up his goggles. His dripping face is bleak. He gasps, “I can’t see much down there but one of the windows is open and I could feel something through it. There’s a body.”
Oh gods. No. I gasp. “W-was it—”
“I cannot tell anything yet. Give me the screwdriver and crowbar.” Karin rummages in the tool kit, hands them to Filip, and he disappears again.
I am still gaping, trying to process what he said: a body. But it can’t be Sylvie. We’re close to Amsterdam, which must be filled with criminals. Anything is possible. I am gulping down breaths to stop from screaming. “Why-why did he take the tools?”
“He is going to remove the license plate.”
Now I understand why she wanted that information about Sylvie’s rental car. Please let it be the wrong car, let it be someone else in the car. How could there be a body here, underneath this cold, merciless surface? I’ve never even seen a dead person before. Let Sylvie have run away with the gold, let her now be starting a new life somewhere.
I jump at every movement in the water—but Filip doesn’t reappear. It seems to take much longer this time. Is he all right? What is he doing down there? Karin drops a buoy in the water to mark the spot.
After what feels like an age, Filip’s dark head reappears, with a warped yellow license plate in his hand, some of the paint flaked off. Karin takes it from him and helps him climb into the boat. I am absolutely still as she checks her notes. I can’t breathe.
Finally, she looks up at me. “It matches.”
It is almost dark now. The sun is setting and the water is like the inner recesses of a dark mouth, a tomb, its depths as implacable as eternity. I am numb from standing on the bank for so long, watching the divers, firemen, and police at work. Danique and Pim have arrived. They’ve not said much to me. They’re too busy with the recovery project. The emergency responders have set up an enormous crane and are trying to pull the car from the canal. Filip has been in the water or on the boat most of the time. The divers went down earlier with an underwater camera but there was too little light and the water was too murky.
Lukas comes roaring up on his scooter with Helena and Willem’s car right behind him. He runs to me, too much white in his eyes, wild and desperate.
I am relieved to see a family member, but he cries, “What have you done?”
Stunned, I am speechless.
He’s almost foaming at the mouth, his nostrils flared. “Why did you have to stir everything up? Why could you not just leave it alone?”