Het Tweede Gelaat

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Based on the novel Double Face

by Jef Geeraerts

- Mr Verstuyft.

- Sorry.

- Here.

- I've already got one.

Here.

Thank you.

- Good evening, Eva.

- Freddy.

You're looking fantastic again.

Hmm, and it smells good already.

It was this evening, wasn't it?

Freddy?

It's next Friday.

Really?

Yes.

And the day before that and the day

before that. Come on then, come in.

There's more than enough.

I'll set another place.

- I'll get another plate.

- OK.

Vincke should have been made

Superintendent ages ago.

But I'm convinced certain people are

preventing it from happening.

The person preventing it

from happening is here.

- Who? Me?

- No, no, silly. No, me.

I wouldn't want to be responsible

for so many people.

- And besides, I'd be a terrible boss.

- That's true.

You're a difficult man.

And a right fusspot.

- God, this is good wine.

- No, thanks.

I'll write the name down.

I'll get it translated into Bulgarian then

the guy in the night store can order some.

- Eh?

- Nothing.

Freddy.

- Didn't you hear your phone?

- Yeah.

- A call-out.

- Yeah. A call-out. There, ready.

No ID in the clothes.

The labels have been cut out.

Fingertips have been burned off,

probably with acid.

All the blood has drained away.

And I needn't hope for any footprints

or tyre tracks, eh?

In that loose sand?

- You let him leave?

- You mean Bertie?

He's just an elderly bricklayer

from the village.

A bricklayer? What was he doing here

at 5 in the morning?

He's been caught snaring rabbits a few

times. You'll get a copy of his statement.

Nothing special, apart from the fact

he heard a car drive off.

Personally, I think

he disturbed the perpetrator.

That's what I think. The perpetrator

dropped everything and fled.

Dropped everything?

What about the head then?

Come on, search. Come on, search.

We've got something here.

Be careful. Make sure

it doesn't damage anything.

There's something here too.

Something here as well.

Something here too.

- Is she among them? I want to see her.

- We don't know yet, Mrs Tissot.

I can tell if it's her.

I'm her mother.

Yes. But there's no need

for you personally...

I mean, if your daughter is among them

the lab will identify her.

- She's got three moles here.

- Yes, it's in her file.

We also have her DNA. I imagine

we will probably know tomorrow...

No, not tomorrow. Please, no, now.

I know where those moles are.

I can show you right away.

I realize that, madam. But we have

to follow a certain protocol.

Hold on a minute. Eh?

Sit there.

This is the most recent victim.

How far have you got?

Six at once, our department

isn't equipped for that, eh?

I've done an initial external examination

of the three that have decayed the least

and I haven't yet found anything on the

bodies themselves that indicates violence.

- No violence?

- No.

- Not on the latest victim either?

- No. And I don't know how fresh it is,

- I think the body's been in the freezer.

- In the freezer?

All of them? The others too?

So how can you say with any certainty

when they died?

Well, that was already very difficult

but now...

- I've asked Ghent for assistance.

- Good morning.

Good morning. Good morning.

I'm sorry.

Is there anyone we can call?

Madam?

I'll get someone from Victim Support

to come.

- Morning. Morning.

- Morning.

Morning.

- Freddy.

- I'll be right with you.

- Good morning.

- Have any more victims been identified?

Yes, one of the older bodies had had

some serious operations on the tibia.

Vera Vandijk.

Missing for more than three years.

Her bike was found in Breda at the time,

halfway between a nightclub and her house.

Breda? That's at least 40km from

where the body was found.

That's why we're checking

all disappearances in a 50km radius.

That's not many, eh?

Did you go back five years?

No, not yet. We're waiting for some files

from the Netherlands too.

OK.

Elise Tissot, 25. Julia Steegmans, 44.

Tissot, librarian.

Vera Vandijk, doing a PhD in biochemistry.

Iris Sluys was a prostitute.

She's small and voluptuous while Tissot

is more of the model type, shall we say.

Blonde hair, brown, black.

No similarities.

- That's what I mean.

- Why would they be similar?

A serial killer goes for

a certain type, eh?

Why? I've had girlfriends

in all shapes and sizes.

Yes, and in all price categories.

- That's not funny, Benji.

- Why them? That's what we want to know.

I want you to go through their laptops,

Facebook page, social media,

videos, everything.

Why them? What's the connection?

They were the easiest prey

in that place at that time.

I want to contact an old friend of mine,

Anton Mulder.

- Mulder? The Dutchman?

- A profiler, wow.

Vincke, come on, not a profiler? You might

just as well ask a fortune-teller.

Well, I'm going to ask him.

This case is too big to do it on our own.

A Dutchman, guys.

Great, great, great.

They've found a woman in Doel.

Well, well,

the kindergarten cops are here.

- Hello.

- Good morning.

Where is she?

She's not there anymore.

She's no longer where he said she was.

He? Who's he?

A guy on a bike who thought he saw

a dead woman as he was cycling along.

- Thought? He didn't go and look?

- No, he cycled straight to the station.

He looked more dead

than alive himself so...

As white as a sheet,

- from the shock.

- Oh, was it a ghost?

Freddy.

- Let's go and see, come on.

- Come on. We're going this way.

Madam?

We're from the police.

Freddy Verstuyft, Chief Inspector.

Goddammit.

Come on, come here. Come here.

It's OK, it's OK. Here, it's OK. Here.

There, that's better.

Do I know you from somewhere?

- I'll put the heating on.

- Yeah.

Oh, my hair is red.

- There.

- Thank you.

Do you remember where you were

yesterday and last night?

I had to... I had to get away from that

party and it was too cold and dark and...

and it was... it was dirty and

there was a lot of dust and I... I...

I couldn't... I couldn't breathe.

That wound on your arm, may I see it?

How did you get it?

From... from the car.

Your car.

How did you get here?

Can you remember?

Must've been a wild party.

Don't you know her? Eh? Rina Van Lierde?

A sort of psychologist. Wheeled out when

they want someone to criticize the police.

Been in debates with

her book about psychoactive drugs.

Vincke, a debate about a book?

No wonder I don't know her.

I think she has sniffed and swallowed

too much from her book

and, combined with alcohol,

this is what you get.

Or maybe he put something in her drink.

Maybe she was the next victim.

But our killer was busy digging

in the sand the night before last.

Maybe he was busy digging in order to

make room for her in his freezer.

No, just totally wasted

after some serious partying.

The hi-viz vest and hair died red looks

more like a prank by dodgy friends.

I'll ask Vice to look at her case and

if there's a connection...

we'll hear about it.

- Mulder.

- Hi, Eric.

- Oh, man, it's good to see you.

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