♪ PIET: What we got?

LUCIENNE: Early-morning dogwalker spotted him.

JULIA: This morning's death suspicious?

They usually are.

Well, try and solve it without bringing the whole of Amsterdam to a standstill.

There's another dead body.

Commissaris Van Der Valk.

PIET: I'm broad-minded, a man of the world.

Oh, really?

PIET: Everyone has secrets.

Are you protecting someone?

I have no choice!

PIET: You do have a choice.

You're looking at him.

♪ ♪ (thunder claps) (whimpers) (click) (bikes whizzing past, siren blaring) (tires screeching) ♪ In pursuit, turning into Herengracht.

♪ (siren blares) ♪ Two exit roads, closing in!

♪ (tires screech) (pistol cocks) (Lucienne sighs, Brad yells) That's three months' surveillance wasted.

BRAD: Back up, let's go around.

♪ (man grunts, brakes squeak) (both grunt) (panting, man coughing) (man snarls, grunts) (man grunts) (man groans) (man yelps) ♪ (birds chirping, man groans) (man coughs and grunts, Piet catches breath) Nice here, isn't it?

♪ ♪ ♪ ("Fatal Kiss" playing, partygoers talking, cheering) Good to see you!

Whoo, yeah!

(cheering) I love this song.

(chuckles) (speaking under music) You look gorgeous.

Hey!

(partygoers cheering, talking in background) Here.

(partygoers cheering) Kalari Ramecker's on his way.

("Mucho Calor" playing on speakers) (gentle music playing in background) So, how long have you been doing this?

Oh, not long.

And what is it you're looking for, exactly?

Shall we get a starter, or shall we just dive into the main course?

Yeah, that's fine.

Your profile was very enigmatic.

You left "occupation" blank.

So, what is it that you do?

I'm a quantum physicist.

(gasps): Oh, my God, no way, I love quantum physics!

Do you?

My friend said not to put it on my profile because she thought it would be a turn-off, but I think it's absolutely fascinating.

(echoing): Because it's about the true nature of reality, of who we are.

Are we just random structures of molecules and atoms smashing together, creating elementary particles so small, we, we can hardly even see them?

(chuckles): Which is why I'm completely obsessed with string theory-- you?

I'm going to skip the starter.

(water lapping) (loud party music playing, partygoers chattering, cheering) (music continues, people talking in background) (people laugh) Hey, are you sure about this?

The boss is; that's all that matters.

(electronica playing) (directional clicking) Hey!

(exclaims) (grunts) (music continues in car) (unlatches seat belt) Move his car!

(grunts) (electronica continues) ♪ (car door closes) (panting) (breathlessly): What do we do?

He saw you park the car.

MILAN: Kalari?

Hey, what's going on?

(yelps, groaning) ♪ Come here.

Get the guitar.

♪ DANIEL: Hey!

(Milan groans) Hey!

What do you think you're doing?

Not another one.

Stop!

Or I call the police!

Just leave him.

(both grunting) ♪ (masked men breathing heavily, Daniel groans) MILAN: Kalari.

(door closes) What is this?

(engine revs, Daniel grunts) Who are you?

What do you... ♪ MILAN: No!

Please!

♪ (ship horn blares) (seagulls squawking) OFFICER: We just cordoned off the area; we're waiting on your word.

Yeah.

(radio beeps) Early-morning dogwalker spotted him.

Milan Bakker, 20, student.

Where is everyone?

Still partying.

Thirsty business, finally catching that gang leader.

How was your date?

Oh.

Brief.

She was obsessed with Planck length.

This is not your usual student hangout, is it?

So what do you think-- beaten up here?

Well, there's no sign of blood.

Could have been washed away by the water, I guess.

Yeah, maybe.

Or he was dumped.

(car approaching) Here comes the cavalry.

Oh, he's going to hit that.

(brakes squeal) (parking brake engages) Told you.

(retches, spits) I thought pathologists weren't meant to vomit.

Not usually, no.

♪ It's him.

♪ PIET: So Milan was at home with you until about 10:00, then he went out.

That's right.

You don't know where to or who he was meeting?

Like I said, no.

(clears throat) Was he in a relationship?

What's that got to do with anything?

Someone killed my boy.

To you, that means he must have done something wrong in some way.

In your suspicious little police commissaris mind, logic dictates as much, but you don't know him.

If I start to know your son, it'll help me figure out who killed him.

My son was an innocent, an idealist.

Just because your people stink of the gutter doesn't mean the rest of the world does.

Do morgues always smell of alcohol?

Or has the man attending to my son been on the piss all night?

What do you mean, an idealist?

Just find out who killed my son.

(phone ringing in background) Get the team together for a briefing.

I think it's fair to say Milan Bakker's father is not a fan of the police.

He's a university lecturer.

As is the victim's mother.

Mum is in economics, although she's currently on a sabbatical in Zagreb.

Dad specializes in political theory.

Academic intelligentsia, basically.

As for Milan Bakker, he's a second-year politics student.

Social-media accounts are typically active.

There's nothing untowards.

Well, he's gay, if that's relevant.

Two questions: one, what you doing at my desk?

Sorry, sorry.

And two, who are you?

Oh, Lieutenant Job Cloovers.

I requested a transfer onto your team.

LUCIENNE: Really?

I want to learn.

From him?

(people talking in background) Go on, park yourself by the window.

Nick, briefing in 30.

Yup!

REPORTER (on TV): Rival party candidates Ed de Klerk and Paul Oosterhuis are pushing election promises ahead of a final run-in.

Latest polls suggest that Klerk is narrowly ahead, and at a campaign rally earlier today, he... (door opens) REPORTER: ...admits that he's focusing on populist issues.

Trojan, look what I got for you.

Please don't give my dog treats.

You met your new assistant, I take it?

He's very good.

I don't care what he is, I don't want him.

For some reason, he thinks highly of you.

Takes all sorts.

I've got Lucienne, Brad, the rest of the team.

I don't need an assistant.

Yeah, you do-- no man's an island, not even you.

Think of it as a prize for your arrest yesterday.

It feels more like a punishment.

The problem is, the gang leader you arrested is an anti-Muslim extremist with links to de Klerk.

And now de Klerk wants me to meet him and his slick new campaign manager, Tim Brouwer, to smooth things over.

Smooth what over?

Well, it looks like we're targeting de Klerk's followers.

Says who?

Well, most of the right-wing press, who support de Klerk and who like beating me with a stick.

Well, maybe this new guy Oosterhuis will be different.

If he gets in.

De Klerk's followers are nothing if not passionate.

This morning's death suspicious?

They usually are.

Yeah, then try and solve it without bringing the whole of Amsterdam to a standstill.

Oh, and this is not up for discussion.

Give Cloovers a chance.

(trolley bell rings) PIET: Late night, was it?

CLIFF: Night, morning.

(Piet knocks on table) The usual.

LUCIENNE: He's on the war path.

Don't worry, I've got them on the strongest coffee.

They'll be fully loaded before you know it.

Want to get rid of Frank?

PIET: He can stay.

(clapping): Okay, rise and shine.

Party's over.

What we got?

Brad, autopsy results?

Not yet, but I've spoken to Milan Bakker's course director, and he says that he was smart and conscientious.

And I also found out that he worked part-time at Loafers Coffee Shop.

The director told you that?

Okay, that might have been one of the students.

(car horn honks, trolley bell rings) Hey, hey, hey!

We're closed.

Hey!

You're late.

You were told about the briefing, I take it.

Yeah, I was, but, um, I went to the briefing room, because that's where I thought that the briefing was taking place.

PIET: Well, that's a bit literal.

Nothing is as it seems, Cloovers.

What are you...

I also got a phone call.

There's another dead body.

♪ JOB: Daniel Koolen.

He's a cargo broker for BV Shipping.

I need those autopsy results as fast as possible.

HENDRIK: Yeah?

Well, I need a blood transfusion, but you don't hear me banging on about it.

You want autopsy results, you stop having people die the whole time.

Yeah, he's got a point; two in a day?

Actually, two deaths in the same day is not that unlikely.

It's like the chances of two people having a birthday on the same day.

You'd think it be one in 365, right?

It's not.

You get 23 people in a room, and there's a 50-50 chance that two of them have the same birthday.

(Hendrik exhales) 75 people in a room, and there's a 99.9% chance.

It's to do with the compounding power of exponents.

I like stats.

Great, that's all we need.

I'm just saying, two people beaten up on the same night in a busy city...

There's a broken bottle here.

So he got into a fight.

Milan Bakker was found on the other side of the city.

Inspector Hassell seems to believe he was gay, for reasons that I don't quite understand.

His profile had him down as a member of Vitriol.

It's an underground gay club.

Okay, so, he's gay, and maybe he got into a row with his lover.

What, gay lovers are more likely to have arguments?

I don't think he's saying that.

Are you saying that?

No, I'm not.

(sighs): There is just nothing statistically or evidentially to suggest that these two bodies are in any way connected.

Cloovers, have you ever cut that stat-obsessed head of yours?

People with bottles smashed over their head are covered in blood.

Whereas...

There's not much blood.

Because when he was hit with the bottle, his blood had already stopped flowing.

Correct.

So, he was killed somewhere else, dumped here, and then hit with the bottle to make it look like he died in a random street fight.

Hypostasis backs that up.

I don't think Milan Bakker was killed where we found him, either.

Two deaths on the same night; that might not be a statistical car crash, but two bodies dumped and staged to look random-- that might be.

Got it.

It's not rocket science.

Someone's dead, we find out who killed them through a process of steady but gentle ceaseless prodding.

Is this you teaching?

(radios squawking, van door closes) Let's get a handle on his movements.

Cameras, ATMs, phone; what have we got on next of kin?

Uh, wallet's got an address out in Durgerdam.

Uh, you can do this one.

Uh-uh.

Come on.

You know I'm not good at the bad-news speech.

Yeah, but you're the chief investigating officer.

Yeah, which means I get to delegate, and you're very good at all that sensitive stuff.

Good.

Mr. Bakker, pay him a visit.

We need to prod.

Where are you going?

Coffee shop.

Helps me think.

(reggae song playing) This is the best weed we have.

(song continues, customers talking in background) Hi.

Hey.

Is Milan in yet?

Not yet, no.

Why?

Who's asking?

A friend of his.

I met him at Vitriol.

Said we'd meet here today.

You don't look like his type.

Well, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

(chuckles) What's his type, anyway?

Indian.

You're not gay, either.

You checked me out when you came in.

I'm broad-minded, a man of the world.

Oh, really?

Are you police?

Do I look like police?

(chuckling softly): Mm-hmm.

Well, maybe I am.

Is Milan in trouble?

Yeah.

He's dead.

♪ (birds squawking, brakes squeak) ♪ LUCIENNE: I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Koolen.

Your husband Daniel's body was discovered in an alleyway, and we are trying to build up a picture of his movements.

When did you last see your husband?

Yesterday morning, when he went to work.

Wednesday is his tennis night.

What time does he usually get home?

Uh, 11:00, 11:30.

So, when he didn't come home...

I rang.

But didn't get an answer.

Didn't you think to report it?

I assumed there would be a reason.

There's always something.

Did your husband ever mention anyone by the name of Milan Bakker?

No.

But we didn't talk much.

♪ I don't think you should be alone.

Is there anyone you want me to call?

Family, a friend?

(people talking in background) (sniffles) PIET: Was Milan seeing anyone?

Yeah, uh, Kalari.

Kalari Ramecker.

He lives around the corner from me.

I'll need an address.

(puts glass down) I was meant to see them both last night.

I had a party.

Kalari rang and said he was on his way.

Do you by any chance know this guy?

Daniel Koolen?

No.

You wasted or what?

It's getting busy.

Yeah, I'm coming.

I better go.

Okay-- hey.

You've got a bit of a mascara meltdown.

This lot are used to it.

♪ MANUS: That's what I thought.

I'll let you know.

No, they're not releasing his body.

I'm just calling everyone, I mean... Yeah.

Yes.

Right... ♪ TIM: Congratulations on your arrest, Chief Commissaris.

It drew a lot of attention.

Well, it was the climax to a big operation.

An expensive operation.

I prefer "effective," Mr. Brouwer.

(chuckles) DE KLERK: What that gang leader did was unforgivable.

But his anti-Muslim sentiments have been wrongly linked with our party.

We would never condone such extremism.

Especially in the run-up to an election, Mr. de Klerk.

Well, obviously, we don't want relations between the police and our party to be affected.

We want to draw a line, Julia.

Well, so do I.

Good.

(Tim puts phone down) ♪ (sips quietly, puts cup down) (elevator humming) Coffee-shop waitress gave me the address of Milan Bakker's boyfriend, Kalari Ramecker.

Says he was on his way, but didn't make it to the party last night.

Coffee-shop waitress got a name?

Any update on Daniel Koolen?

Yeah, his wife said it was his tennis night, only it wasn't.

His club membership lapsed a year ago.

She said she rang him, but she didn't.

He didn't receive any calls.

I think she knew he was somewhere else, but didn't want to know where.

Koolen, however, did make one last call.

At 10:17, to the police.

(elevator door opens) Saying what?

He was cut short before he spoke to anyone.

Coffee-shop waitress attractive, was she?

Cloovers, what did you learn at the Bakkers'?

That Milan was into politics.

(sarcastically): No, what with him being a politics student and all?

No, no, no, I mean really into politics.

He was an active campaigner for Oosterhuis, de Klerk's rival.

Yeah?

What else you got?

And his parents are political academics, but all the books on their shelves are right-wing-- economics and ideologies.

They're both members of de Klerk's New Right think tank.

Whereas Oosterhuis is a trendy leftie pinko liberal.

So, the Bakkers' son's an idealist and a rebel.

You'd have got her name if you didn't find her attractive.

Just saying.

(banging loudly) (exclaiming) God, what is wrong with you?!

Get your arse into gear, we got work to do.

(exhales) (inhales deeply) If you insist.

There was a crossover of blood.

Victim one's blood was found on victim two's clothes and visa versa, so they were killed in close proximity to one another.

Clothes of both showed the same remnants of grease and oil, consistent with a vehicle, a back of a lorry, or a van, maybe.

What about the killer?

Oh, a pro.

Forget about all these superficial cuts and bruises.

Check this out.

Not sure what I'm supposed to be looking at.

That's my point.

Mild inflammation, slight swelling on the surface.

Internally, that kidney's shot to pieces; extensive blunt trauma and hemorrhaging.

Maximum damage, minimum visibility.

What about Koolen?

Hmm, similar.

Actual cause of death was a broken neck.

Clean snap to the vertebrae.

Equally professional.

I'd say military.

Times of death?

Oh, both between 10:00 and 1:00.

Now, there's a couple of other things.

Victim one had traces of blood and some material caught underneath his fingernails, as if he'd been ripping at someone wearing rubber.

Well, doesn't really narrow it down in Amsterdam.

Oh, ye of little faith.

The victim was a guitarist, right?

Fingernails on one hand longer than on the other.

And one of his longer fingernails had this underneath.

It's a fang.

So we're looking for a rubber werewolf.

And there's more.

Traces of blood found underneath the fingernail don't match the traces of blood on the fingers of the other hand.

And neither do they match his own blood or that of the other victim's.

For the hard of thinking, please?

Well...

Someone else was in that vehicle with them.

A second killer?

Or a third victim.

Landlord said Ramecker moved in three years ago.

Pays rent on time, and he's no trouble.

(door closes) And coffee-shop waitress, get her address, too?

Will you just pack it in?

I'm dating again, what more do you want?

I want you to put your heart into it.

Which you're not, so far.

(lock turning) Well, who says I've got a heart?

After you.

LUCIENNE: Kalari Ramecker?

Police.

♪ Clearly an activist.

We'll need samples of his DNA.

Mm-hmm.

♪ (keys jingle) So they were due at a party but never turned up.

Could've had a row.

Milan maybe is having an affair with the other victim.

Kalari finds out and kills both of them.

Doesn't exactly look like a professional killer, though, does he?

Hmm.

Murderer or missing, either way, we still need to find him.

Are you in politics these days?

I think all politicians should be shot.

That's very balanced.

Thank you.

So, Milan's father supports de Klerk, whose politics are anti-gay, anti-immigration, some might say racist.

And yet his son is gay, has an Indian boyfriend, and campaigns for the opposition.

Should make for lively debate.

This is about more than family.

You got two campaigners, one missing, one dead, killed by a professional in the middle of an election campaign.

That's got to be connected, right?

(Julie talking in background) (Lucienne clicks tongue) Shouldn't we tell Dahlman it could be political?

No, best not.

She's only going to warn me off.

De Klerk's got a new campaign manager.

You check him out.

I'll speak to Oosterhuis.

You'll be lucky.

He's very busy.

Unlike Trojan here, who clearly looks like he's enjoying his retirement.

That is the best sniffer dog we ever had.

I reckon he misses the thrill of the chase.

Tch!

Good boy.

Okay, so our killer, the pro, what we got so far?

There's not exactly a database.

Well, then start one.

Professional muscle, military connections, any thugs with links to right-wing groups.

What you been doing all day?

If you must know, I've found Kalari Ramecker's car.

Excellent.

Where?

Well, not found it, found he's got one.

Registration is SJTS25.

That's it?

He's got a car?

Right, team, we'll have this one solved by end of play.

Where's Cloovers?

(bar patrons chanting, door closes) PIET: What are you doing here?

I thought this was the briefing room.

No, no, no, I call the briefings.

Cliff, can we get rid of the stags?

No-- unlike you guys, they tip.

Yeah, but they don't let you off local taxes, do they?

Just move them outside.

(men cheering, clapping) Hey, lads...

Right, let's hear it.

I talked to Koolen's employers, BV Shipping.

He left work early yesterday-- a weekly occurrence, apparently-- at 2:00.

He had a long lunch at a restaurant.

He paid the bill at ten to 6:00.

Lunch was clearly for two, and he was with a woman.

Which we know because?

One of them had four beers and a steak, the other one had two glasses of Prosecco and a vegetarian risotto.

Oh, and here's a good bit.

The restaurant is on the same street where Kalari Ramecker lives.

So we've got Koolen near Ramecker's flat until 5:52.

When did he ring the police?

10:17.

Well, he could have been anywhere by then.

Or they stayed there, went back to her place, and had sex.

I rang the restaurant.

They come in every week.

She's younger than him.

They're all over each other, and the owner thinks she lives nearby.

You could have told me that at the beginning.

I was trying to impress.

Don't.

You'd make a good stalker, though, I'll give you that.

Thank you.

I think.

(phone ringing) Yeah.

Get a photograph of Koolen down there.

Go door to door on the street.

We need to find this woman.

De Vries has found Ramecker's mother.

She's head of exhibitions at the Rijksmuseum.

I'll catch you up.

He likes his art.

Nice job.

(door closes) (trolley bell rings, car horn honks) PIET: It's Commissaris Van Der Valk.

I'd like to speak to Paul Oosterhuis about two of his campaigners, Milan Bakker, Kalari Ramecker.

Yes, I can hold.

(bicycle bell ringing) Again.

♪ (people talking softly in background) (drill whirring) Mrs. Ramecker?

Ms. (hammer tapping) Great painting.

I've got a couple of Vermeers myself.

Fridge magnets.

It's about your son, Kalari.

Have you heard from him in the last 24 hours?

No.

We need to talk to him.

We tried his apartment, but nothing.

Do you know Milan Bakker?

He's my son's boyfriend.

Why?

He was found dead this morning.

Milan?

How were things between them, Kalari and Milan?

Perfect.

They do every...

They did everything together.

Including campaigning for Paul Oosterhuis?

Yes, um, they're both passionate about his principles.

Is Kalari's father about?

You said Ms., not Mrs. (exhales sharply) He's never been in our lives.

(sighs) ♪ BRAD: Seen him in the area at all?

(talking softly) BRAD: Thanks a lot, have a nice day.

LUCIENNE: Any sign of Kalari Ramecker's car?

Not yet, I'm doing this.

(knocking) Going to check out the other side.

Hey.

Van Der Valk, is he always unfriendly?

No, just with you.

SJT... S25.

Okay, here we go.

Let's get forensics on it.

(car horn honks in distance) Careless.

(bicycle bell rings) Hmm.

(door closes) Any news on Milan?

Coffee-shop waitress?

Eva.

Eva Meisner.

Hey, look who I found.

Name's Eva, by the way.

All right?

Yeah.

Your party, fancy dress, right?

Yep.

(door unlocking) EVA: The, uh, mask thing was a bit random, but everyone went nuts for it.

(door closes) You got a lion on your sofa.

EVA (chuckles): Yeah, that's Tobias-- he was pretty out of it.

Nice apartment for someone who works in a coffee shop.

I, uh, also work at an art gallery.

I cried off tonight, there's an opening.

Which gallery?

Sub 87 in Bos en Lommer.

Very cutting-edge.

Oh, you know it, I'm impressed.

He's an expert.

Mmm.

Well, I wouldn't say expert, I'm, um, more of an Old Master man myself.

Well, no one's perfect.

I'm definitely not that.

Anyway, I, uh, sorry I didn't get a chance to clear up.

I'll just move these through.

Hmm, she likes you.

Don't be ridiculous.

And you like her.

Don't be ridiculous.

Maybe you do.

Are we keeping you?

I've got a date.

You can join me if you want.

I've been granted an audience with Paul Oosterhuis.

In that case, yeah.

Um, we're going to need a list of, of everyone you invited.

I don't do lists, I just ring around.

Okay.

Well, we'll need a list of people you rang around.

Are you asking for my phone number?

No.

Oh.

Who did you invite, generally?

Uh, yeah, friends, you know, people from the coffee shop, the gallery... What about the political scene?

God, no.

All politicians should be shot.

The masks... Any have teeth or fangs?

Yeah, some of them.

Do you remember anyone with fangs leaving about 10:00?

To be honest, I don't remember much after about 8:00.

Big night, was it?

EVA: Mm-hmm, yeah, you could say that.

PIET: Got messy?

(laughs) They're the best ones.

Okay, thank you.

Excuse me, madam, can I just stop you just there for five minutes?

My name's Brad de Vries, I'm with the Criminal Brigade.

Just wondering, uh, if you might know... Why have you got a picture of Dan?

You know this man?

Uh, yes.

LUCIENNE: Test results, Kalari Ramecker's DNA matches blood found on Milan Bakker's hand.

Suggests he was the third person in the vehicle.

Okay, so he rang Eva to say he was on his way, but he never made it.

But his car's here with the keys in, so we know he made it this far.

JOB (calling): Sir?

Deal with him.

AGATHA: Well, I'm sorry he's dead, but I don't think I have anything to do with it.

What time did he leave your apartment last night?

10:00 or 10:15-- that's his cut-off.

Before he has to go home to his wife?

Because that's his cut-off.

I had a tort due.

The type of cake?

(chuckles): It's a legal argument.

I'm a law student.

LUCIENNE: Older man, younger woman, the whole thing transactional, right?

Course.

You didn't think... (chuckles): He's my Wednesday.

Long lunch, he talks about himself, his work, and how his marriage sucks.

I listen, I talk about myself, he sort of listens and gives me advice based on his greater experience, some of which is quite good, but generally he just agrees with whatever I say.

We go back to mine and have brief sex.

We wait until he recovers, and have slightly slower but still really quite brief sex again.

I tell him he's great.

He ignores me, takes a shower, and that's about it.

So, if he's your Wednesday, how many...

Course is expensive, but then it's a tough degree, so I need to keep plenty of time for study.

LUCIENNE: Close your mouth, Brad, you're drooling.

Okay, so about the time that he left you, he made a call to the police, or tried to.

Any idea about that?

News to me.

He let himself out.

We check for cameras around here?

BRAD: Not yet.

Get onto it.

Looking for a lorry or a van exiting the street between 10:15, 10:30.

BOY: Hey, come on, you.

CLAUDIA: Paul!

It's the police.

I'll take over down there.

He won't be a moment.

Thank you.

OOSTERHUIS: Boys, come on, come and sit down, have something to eat, please.

Commissaris Van der Valk.

Inspector Hassell.

Paul Oosterhuis, a pleasure.

Thank you for seeing us.

I appreciate this must be a busy time.

Yeah, mealtimes, the busiest.

How can I help?

I'm sorry to have to tell you, one of your campaigners, Milan Bakker, has been beaten and killed.

Milan?

No.

Another, Kalari Ramecker, is missing.

Are you familiar with him?

Yes, of course, they're two of my best campaigners.

We're still trying to determine exactly what went wrong, but it's possible their allegiance to you might be relevant.

Well, in what way?

Well, some of de Klerk's far-right members are known to be extreme.

Well, yes, but still... Did you know Milan and Kalari were a couple?

I didn't, no.

(sighs) I actually didn't really know them that well, to be honest.

And yet you agreed to meet me.

You know, when I first rang your office, I got nowhere.

But as soon as I mentioned Milan and Kalari, the diary just magically opened up.

Well, as I said, they were valued campaigners.

Come on.

You're a busy man.

I'm a busy man.

Why did you agree to see me?

You're the police.

I assumed it was important.

I, I was trying to be amenable, that's all.

Amenable?

Or controlling?

PIET: What?

What?

You were rude.

He's covering something.

He didn't have to see us.

Listen, he knew your name.

I didn't tell him you were coming.

He was prepped.

He's not targeting his own campaigners, though, is he?

♪ PIET: Is it convenient?

MANUS: Not unless you're here to tell me who killed my son.

We're not, we're just here for a chat.

Make it quick.

PIET: Your political beliefs, they're very different to your son's.

Yeah, we live in a democracy, sadly.

Benign dictatorship is the way forward.

How is this relevant?

Do you have many enemies?

I hope so.

Or I'm not expressing my views properly.

You said your son wasn't in a relationship.

He was.

A gay relationship, with his Indian lover.

How dare you suggest such a thing?

Because I know you know all about it.

If you want me to find your son's killer, I need to know everything about his lover.

He stole our son from us.

Kalari Ramecker is part of the Oosterhuis inner circle.

But why?

I've absolutely no idea!

♪ (door slams) (exhales) LUCIENNE: How did you know he knew?

I didn't.

(phone chimes) Coffee-shop waitress?

No.

Shame.

She's perfect for you.

Into art, hates politicians, and has the balls to put you in your place.

Just saying.

I'm heading home.

You?

Going to that opening at Eva Meisner's gallery.

(door closes) ♪ (container door unbolting, chain clinking) (Kalari groaning) No!

No, please, please!

Let me go!

(grunts) Let me... What are you doing?!

Please, please!

No, no!

No!

Help!

No!

No!

No!

♪ (people talking in background) (people talking, glasses clinking) Hi.

This is a private event-- are you on the list?

Not sure.

I'm a friend of Eva's.

Lucienne Hassell.

Okay, well, Eva didn't mention anything and your name's not on the list.

Well, I'm here now.

Sure, you know, if it was up to me, just, uh... Rules are rules, and there was a bit of trouble last night, so they're being really strict.

What kind of trouble?

Protesters, agitators.

Well, in that case, I'm a police officer investigating a double murder.

Does that help?

Yeah, that really helps.

(loud dance music playing) (camera clicking) (people talking in background) ♪ ALEIDA: Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?

A big welcome to our very special guest, Ed de Klerk's new campaign manager, Tim Brouwer!

(cheering and applauding) TIM: Thank you, thank you.

Lovely to have you with us tonight.

Tim, would you just say a few words?

Thank you for having me.

And, uh, by the way, buy more art!

So... (crowd laughs) (crowd applauds) (houseboat creaking) ♪ (crowd talking in background) (chuckles) Great to meet you.

Lucienne Hassell, police.

Nice to meet you, too.

What happened to your chin?

Did you get in a fight with someone?

(cameras clicking) ♪ (phone ringing) Can't a woman get some peace?

PIET (on phone): You partying?

I'm at Sub 87.

LUCIENNE: It's all a bit paranoid.

Is the art world always like this?

Uh, yep.

And de Klerk's campaign manager, Tim Brouwer, is here, by the way.

PIET: Is he?

LUCIENNE: Yeah, I checked him out.

Ambitious, driven.

And get this, he's got... Do they know you're police?

The guy on the door does.

Do you think that's a problem?

I don't know, maybe.

I'm on my way.

Don't bother-- I'm gonna leave soon, anyway.

♪ (doorbell rings) ♪ (gasps) (exclaims) (whimpering) (dog barking) Mm-hmm.

Yeah.

Yeah, of course.

Um, some policewoman sniffing around.

Don't worry.

Ramecker's going nowhere, boss.

Yeah, uh-huh... Police.

What did you say?

(gasps) (grunts) (gasping) (breathing heavily, groaning) (ringing) (groaning, panting) (panting, ringing fades) PIET: Come on-- if you die on me and I have to break the news to your family, I will deliberately do it very badly.

I'm gonna be tactless, blunt, dismissive... ♪ (ambulance door shuts) ♪ Want to tell me what's going on?

Lucienne was following up a lead.

I'm assuming this wasn't a random attack.

Looks like she found one.

Just so you know, one of the victims and his missing lover are volunteer Oosterhuis campaigners.

Then you'll need to go easy.

You know de Klerk will try to interfere if he thinks a police investigation will impact on his campaign.

What about the other victim, any political affiliations?

No, we think he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Oh, someone took out a passerby?

That's pretty rash, isn't it?

Yeah.

Yeah, it's very rash.

Or it's a mistake.

There's nothing you could have done.

You know that, don't you?

Yeah.

(siren blares in distance) What about our killer?

What is he, military man, pro?

Yeah, we got three candidates so far.

All NNC members.

New Nationalist Collectif.

PIET: Collectif, that's a new one.

BRAD: All extreme right wing, into direct action and fans of de Klerk.

Recently out of prison, form for assault, and discharged from the military on account of stress.

Military?

Bartel Peters.

Right, check them all out.

I want progress by morning.

Well, that's not gonna be possible, is it?

In Amsterdam, anything is possible.

Where are you going?

See if any of these like fancy dress parties.

(doorbell rings) (vehicles buzzing by, distant laughter) (distant thud, man shouting) Could have sworn the party was last night.

I just wanted to check that lion made it home.

Any of these at the party?

They look like thugs.

Oh, they are thugs.

Are you saying I hang out with reprobates?

Do you?

(chuckles) I'm sorry, I don't know them.

How long have you known Kalari?

About six months.

We hung out at the same cafe, got chatting.

Did you ever meet his mum?

Yeah, once or twice.

She's into your kind of thing, boring stuff, right?

If you call Vermeer boring... Yeah, it doesn't do it for me.

All those domesticated women, they're all a bit passive.

Submissive.

Subordinate.

What do you prefer?

Fire.

Passion.

♪ There's nothing wrong with that.

♪ (birds chirping) PIET: No... No.

You're not leaving the hospital, forget it.

I don't care if the wound is superficial, you're staying.

(door closes) (phone ringing in distance) It's been bothering me.

Why you're so lost in this painting.

I mean, why not that one?

Or that one?

I get lost in different paintings at different times.

There's always more to see.

This isn't about what's there.

It's about what's not there.

Everything in it screams absence.

The letter, the empty chair, the map of far-off worlds, her lover who isn't there.

Maybe he's not just her lover, maybe he's the... father of her unborn child.

Yesterday, when you were looking at this, were you thinking about your son?

Or his father?

I can't remember what I was thinking.

Do you know something about your son's disappearance you're not telling me?

No, of course not.

You look as if you haven't slept.

I take it you've heard nothing.

No, I haven't.

You know, Oosterhuis, he has hundreds of volunteers, but your boy is right at the heart of his inner circle.

Are you protecting someone?

I need to get back to work.

♪ If you don't mind.

PIET: Job!

Kalari Ramecker, I'm not buying his father hasn't been in their lives.

Where was his mum 20-plus years ago?

Uh... At the Institute of Fine Arts in Antwerp.

She trained there; about this footage... BRAD: Photos from the gallery opening last night.

And get this, Bartel Peters-- I've ruled out the other two-- but Bartel Peters, after leaving the army, he got a job as head of security for de Klerk.

He works for de Klerk?

Used to, left; stress.

Track him down, get an address.

What are you eating?

Snacks.

That you took from my desk?

Well, given the circumstances, I didn't think you'd mind.

They're dog treats, Brad.

JOB: Excuse me, footage?

Okay, so, uh, the north end of the road, it drew a blank, but the south end of the road, there were six vans between 10:15 and 10:45.

One of which was driven by a dog.

Registration?

JOB: It's blurred, but I've sent it to the tech team to get it unscrambled.

(cell phone ringing) LUCIENNE (on phone): Hi, it's me, I've just checked out of the hospital.

You've done what?

LUCIENNE: Yeah, just checked out.

No, no, no, no.

No, you can't do that.

I won't allow it!

This is a terrible idea.

It's not.

Go on.

All right.

Okay?

Yep.

Pulling?

No.

What am I supposed to do with this?

I told you, I hate hospitals.

And I don't want to go home.

Why not?

Just get me some water.

Look, we've got work to do.

Hendrik has examined my wound, maybe that'll give us something.

And de Klerk's campaign manager, Brouwer, has got this cut on his chin.

When I questioned him about it, he refused to talk.

Okay, take it easy.

We've got the photos, we'll have a look.

Get me something to do.

No.

Whoever stabbed me, he's got Ramecker, and whoever he was on the phone to, he was calling "boss."

Relax-- please.

♪ PIET: Hey, is your mum in?

GIRL: Yeah, she is.

(door shuts, kids yelling) Hi.

Tell them no screens, no devices, and no fighting!

GIRL: Okay.

Quite a handful-- don't you have help?

Uh, used to.

My niece Jen was with us for a while.

She was great with the kids, and then she went traveling, like she had a life.

You have other children, right?

Five in total.

Hmm.

I'm sorry.

Paul's not here at the moment.

He told me about the campaigners.

Any news?

Not yet.

You and your husband-- you met in Antwerp, is that right?

Lived there till we had our second.

He was with a law firm, I worked for a publisher's.

Faucher Legrand.

That's right, we did gallery catalogues, mainly.

Any for the Fine Art Institute?

They were our main clients, why?

Did you meet any of the students there?

There were launches, I guess, but... not really.

Theresa Ramecker, does that name mean anything to you?

No, who is she?

She's the mother of one of your husband's campaigners.

I just, I just wondered if you knew her.

Come over.

Please, come over.

I can't keep pretending nothing's happening, I won't.

Look, just, just, you have to trust me, okay?

CLAUDIA: Paul?

Paul?

♪ (sighs) (music playing in background) JOB: Tech got a registration of the van, we're gonna see if we can I.D.

who leased it.

Mad bunch, aren't they?

They're a white bunch is what they are.

Gallery like Sub 87 would normally be multicultural.

Lucienne said de Klerk's campaign manager had a cut on his chin.

And we know that Milan Bakker clawed a chunk out of someone, so, come on, which one is he?

It's this one.

Tim Brouwer.

BRAD: Got him.

Nice one.

Get Frank here some breakfast.

CLIFF: Okay, what do you want?

Scrambled eggs.

And two beers, please!

Find out where Brouwer is today.

I want a word with him and his boss.

JOB: Ah, image coming through of the person who leased the van.

Name's Dave Smit.

Go around the back in case he does a runner.

Hey!

You can handle yourself, can't you?

Yeah.

(car horn honks) (patrons talking in background) I didn't expect to see you again so soon.

Actually, it's not you I'm here to see.

Dave Smit.

Move!

(bottles clanking) (Piet grunts) DAVE: Get out of my way!

WOMAN: Hey!

Come here!

(both struggling, grunting) (grunts) All right, if you keep still, it won't pinch.

(head pounds, Dave panting) I used the dumpsters.

Yeah, I got what you did.

(grunts) PIET: Tell me about the van.

It belongs to the gallery.

Where is it now?

Don't know, someone must have taken it out, I guess.

You were carrying these when we arrested you.

The gallery has more than one set.

Do you like fancy dress parties?

Why, are you having one?

Eva Meisner's, what'd you go as?

Mickey Mouse.

Are you sure you weren't a dog?

Positive.

When'd you leave?

Midnight.

Can anyone confirm that?

No.

PIET: Do you know him?

Bartel Peters.

Here's a slightly prettier one.

Tim Brouwer.

I don't know either of them.

No?

Well, he was at the gallery last night.

Oh, yeah, him.

"Oh, yeah, him."

Kalari Ramecker, where is he?

Why'd you take him?

Okay.

We'll check your DNA against DNA found on the victims and then we'll see if that loosens your tongue.

♪ DE KLERK: ...an increasing number... Amsterdammers born and bred are being forced to leave their city because there is nowhere for them to live.

We don't want working families... (de Klerk continues) Commissaris Van Der Valk.

Can I have a word?

Bit busy, this is a campaign event.

I'm here about a double murder and the stabbing of a police officer.

I'm sure you know we take attacks on our officers very seriously.

How can I help?

That looks nasty.

What happened?

Is it relevant?

I don't know, is it?

My girlfriend, Aleida, runs Sub 87.

Two nights ago, I was there.

There was some trouble outside, anarchists protesting.

Was a bit of a fight and I got caught in a crossfire.

Why would anarchists attack an art gallery?

Why do anarchists do anything?

They don't need a reason.

Commissaris Van Der Valk.

Ah, the one who's been in the news.

One and the same.

Yeah.

Bartel Peters, do you remember him?

Peters?

Remind me.

He was your head of security.

He hospitalized one of your political opponents.

Sorry to hear that.

Yeah, he broke his jaw, smashed his eye socket, ruptured his spleen.

Have you seen him recently?

No.

And I remember that incident now.

We got rid of him as fast as we could.

The thing is, we think he's still out there, actively supporting your cause.

Well, we definitely don't want that.

Tim, can we look into this?

Maybe we can help.

Keep in touch, right?

It was good to meet you.

Lucienne is one very lucky woman.

The wound was shallow and tangential.

(phone chimes) But it's hard to tell, given the elasticity and recoil of the soft tissue, what the length of the blade was.

But there was a very distinctive type of serration.

Right, what does all that mean?

Well, I bet you a beer it's military issue.

Okay.

Uh, what about Dave Smit's DNA?

Well, it's all over the van.

But then it would be, if he drives it regularly.

Does it match the DNA on the victims?

No.

Nothing that proves that he was in contact with them.

♪ PIET (over speaker): Okay, here's the way I see it.

You might not be the killer...

But you were definitely the driver on the night, which makes you an accessory to a double murder.

Something went wrong, didn't it?

Daniel Koolen, he was a mistake, right?

So you went and dumped him.

Maybe Milan Bakker was a mistake, too.

Otherwise, why dump him, as well?

Either way, you panicked.

(over speaker): You had to get rid of them.

I don't think you screwed this up.

Your military mate did.

Bartel Peters.

He's got stress issues.

You see, that's what happens when someone is unhinged.

They kill people they're not meant to.

And other people, accessories, like your good self, they go down for crimes that they didn't really commit.

My swab didn't help, did it?

You've got nothing on me.

PIET: Incident took place here, bodies dumped here and here.

What order?

You got Koolen first.

It's the closest to the original incident.

Agreed.

Then you take Milan Bakker's body out there.

Why?

Other side of town.

Why that direction?

You could have gone in any direction.

Could be random.

I don't think so.

What else do we know?

There's a third person in the vehicle, Kalari Ramecker.

Who hasn't been dumped, so we have to assume he's still alive, which means he's important enough to keep alive.

They're taking him somewhere.

(exhales) So you go in the direction that you're ultimately heading, dumping Milan Bakker on the way.

Good.

Good!

Here to here... (whispers): Then where...

This industrial wasteland?

Plenty of abandoned buildings, no one around, it's a good place to hide someone.

Get someone up there.

Release Smit, follow him.

♪ (engages emergency brake) PIET: I'm trying to piece together your son's disappearance with an election looming.

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

You met Paul Oosterhuis when he was in Antwerp.

He was already married.

Let's do the math-- Kalari was, what, 22?

So, 23 years ago?

What are you doing?

I'm trying to understand why someone would abduct your son.

Doesn't make any sense, unless he was someone important.

Like the leader of the opposition's secret love child.

Have you had any ransom demands?

(softly): No.

Stop wasting my time.

That's why you were looking at that painting, lost in thought about the absent father of your missing child.

Are you still his lover?

Long-term mistress, what?

Is that why Kalari is so into his politics, because his dad's the new hope for the left?

Kalari doesn't know.

No one does.

Well, someone knows, that's the point-- who?

I don't know.

You know I could arrest you for trying to pervert the course of justice.

I don't care!

My son is missing.

That's all I care about.

Yeah, I get that, but two other people are dead, and I'm gonna find out who killed them.

So what are the demands?

I can't tell you.

Yes, you can.

Or I'll go to Oosterhuis and I'll raise it with him and his blissfully ignorant wife.

(breathes deeply) Demands, what are they?

Now!

They want Paul to pull out of the election or they'll blow his life apart and end his career.

And he's not doing that because...?

He doesn't want to give in to blackmail.

This election is his life.

He believes in everything he stands for.

Does he?

Or does he just not want his wife to find out about you and your son?

You know, when you stand for family values, well, it helps if you have some.

He's gambling with the life of your son.

I have no choice!

If I don't comply, they will kill him!

I'm trying to keep my son alive!

So am I, and you do have a choice.

You're looking at him.

So they left a note, yes?

What else?

(crying) I have one of my son's fingers in my freezer.

(sobbing) (trolley screeches) BRAD: Yeah, mm-hmm.

Got him!

(escalator clacking, bell chimes) (train rumbling) ♪ ♪ (escalator clacking) Yeah, he's headed to a urinal.

Bartel Peters.

He's meeting Peters.

What did you tell the police?

Nothing.

They following you?

No.

Alley on the left.

Go through, I'll meet you at the canal.

He's doing a runner.

♪ Cloovers!

Where'd he go?

Where is he?

♪ (punches railing, breathes heavily) So, where are the other nine?

Well, hopefully, still attached to Kalari Ramecker.

And you want me to prove this mug cut it off.

Yes, please.

And any other magic you can weave.

I suspect he had a friend who did the actual cutting and who probably killed him, as well.

Nice friend.

Lovely friend.

(sighs) (door opens) Commissaris.

I assume I can rely on your discretion.

I wouldn't assume anything if I was you.

Ms. Ramecker tells me you're handling your son's kidnapping.

Do you care to explain how?

Yes, I've contacted the AIVD.

Why the Secret Service?

It's a politically motivated kidnapping.

We don't know that for sure.

Still, it's in their hands now, and, like me, they don't encourage giving in to kidnappers.

As a result, it's no longer a police matter.

Your investigation's over.

You have no jurisdiction over me.

No, I don't.

But Chief Commissaris Dahlman does.

And we've already spoken.

(phone vibrating) (phone stops vibrating) Well, she hasn't said anything to me.

And you're all right with this?

I just want my boy back.

Yeah, I managed to download Oosterhuis' computer and deliver it to Lucienne.

She's gonna check the files, photos, emails, and come back to us...

Okay.

This industrial wasteland, what have we learned?

BRAD: It doesn't have great camera coverage.

Although we've got three van sightings, including one on the night of the murders entering and exiting this area... here.

Within that, though, needle in a haystack.

What have you got for me?

Forensics?

DNA on finger confirmed Dave Smit touched it.

Anything else?

Maybe.

Metal traces on finger wound-- titanium alloy, consistent with wire cutters, metal cutters, the type used in house and garden.

What about art galleries, for hanging paintings?

I don't see why not.

But there aren't any art galleries out there.

No, but there are storage facilities.

There's warehouses where galleries keep their stock.

HENDRIK: One other thing-- the knife that killed Smit, the serration, same as the one used on Lucienne.

I'd say it's the same knife.

So if Bartel Peters stabbed Lucienne, he must have been at the opening.

Is this all the photos we got?

Apart from the ones of Lucienne.

♪ That's who we're missing.

Who, Lucienne?

No.

The photographer.

JOB: It says here Sub 87 was taken over six months ago by Aleida Jansen.

Brouwer's girlfriend.

"To Specialize in Formative Functionalism: Futurist Expression of Ideology in Motion."

(bike bell chimes) BRAD: What the hell does that mean?

It means right-wing art.

We prefer "visionary."

No wonder you had anarchists protesting.

Your photographer last night-- Bartel Peters, right?

We need an address.

I haven't got one.

He just turned up a few months ago.

Say the right things, did he?

Share the right sentiments?

It's the Chief Commissaris, she says she wants to see you immediately, and has asked me to arrest you if you don't comply.

Yeah?

Good luck with that.

The photos from last night, how'd you get them?

I transferred them digitally as he took them.

Did you see him leave?

You see, he went out back, he stabbed a colleague of mine, and he did a runner.

Did he leave anything?

What're you gonna do?

JOB: Access his photos, and see if there's any clue to his whereabouts?

Nope.

(phone ringing) JULIA: ...no longer technically under our jurisdiction, and I have relayed that message most forcefully.

(whispering): Piet!

Mr. Oosterhuis, I can assure you, our department is collaborating with AIDV on this matter.

(whispers): Trojan... (continues on phone) Trojan.

(whispers) Of course, I can control my officers.

(shouts): Piet!

BRAD: Dahlman is gonna have your balls.

There is that possibility.

Want me to call for back-up again?

Why not?

Let's have some fun.

PIET: All right, Trojan.

Here, take that.

Come here, what's this?

You smell this?

Yeah, come on, then.

(Trojan yelps) Freeze, 3-5-7-5-0... (warehouse door opens and shuts) ♪ (compartment opening) (moaning) (yelps) (Trojan yelping, whining) (yelping, whining) (yelping from outside) Enjoy.

(warehouse door opening) (dog barking in distance) (seagull squawking in distance) ♪ PIET: Don't even think about it, Peters.

Why not?

Don't you think enough people have died?

(softly): Back off.

Your mate Dave Smit.

Milan Bakker.

That guy in the street.

You want to know his name?

Daniel Koolen.

All for a good cause.

Is it?

What is it?

Political?

Revenge?

Whatever it is, your plan hasn't worked.

Not that it is your plan.

(officers calling in distance) Who's your boss?

OFFICER: Stand down!

Put the gun down!

OFFICER 2: Put the gun down!

Don't do it.

Don't do it.

(gun fires) ♪ ♪ OFFICER: Found hostage!

He's alive, paramedics needed!

OOSTERHUIS (on TV): This is to announce that I will be withdrawing my nomination as of today, um...

It's not only due to the current political climate and the difficulties in the race, but also... BRAD: What's he standing down for?

CLIFF: It's all blown up in his face, man.

His affair, his love child-- all over the news.

Have I got this right, have we just increased the chances of de Klerk winning?

(front door opens) Trojan!

(all cheering and applauding) Trojan!

JULIA: Theresa Ramecker's been in touch, grateful to get her son and her life back.

And I've got my dog back.

Trojan!

(Trojan barks) You do that again, and I'll have you transferred out of here before you can say treat time.

Is that understood?

Yeah, it's understood.

It's a shame we didn't get Peters' boss.

No.

Not yet.

♪ Hey.

Hey.

Shall I get us a drink?

(bottles clink) How's Kalari?

He lost a lot of blood, a finger, and Milan.

Tough, that.

Losing the love of your life.

It was quite a night we spent.

Mmm.

All that fire and passion.

Got a lot of anger there.

(laughs) Well, I didn't hear you complaining.

No.

No.

That list of party guests you gave us... Mm-hmm?

Why didn't you put Dave Smit on it?

I don't know, I must have forgotten.

It just, it bothers me how Dave Smit and Bartel Peters were waiting outside when Kalari arrived.

You know, the only person that Kalari called... Was you.

(chuckles) So?

We found this.

You were the nanny and the niece to Paul Oosterhuis' wife, Jen.

Short for Genevieve.

So not only did Oosterhuis have an affair and a son with Theresa Ramecker...

He was also sleeping with you.

He dumped you presumably because you foolishly thought he was gonna leave his wife.

So you set out to plot your revenge.

You befriend Kalari, find someone as damaged as Peters, and then you manipulate his hatred of Oosterhuis.

And Dave Smit, what was he, just... seduced?

Boss?

Oosterhuis has withdrawn from the election, he's confessed all to his wife.

You won, you must feel great.

Not really.

It's not the same as having him, is it?

Forgive me if I don't feel sorry for you.

You need to understand, he seduced me.

He promised me the world.

It's me that should be with him.

You had Kalari tortured.

Peters and Smit were still at the gallery when his finger was delivered to his mother's door.

You took it there, didn't you?

Why would you do that to her?

Because she put up with being second-best.

One of those passive women you so disapprove of.

(chuckles) You know, when I begged him to be with me, he said he couldn't because of her.

Because of how much she sacrificed for him.

(laughs) You know, I hated her more.

Followed her, watched them-- it didn't take a genius to get to Kalari.

And everyone that died-- innocent people, passersby, killed for no reason...

I didn't mean for them to get hurt, but...

They're not my problem.

No.

But they are mine.

And they always will be.

♪ (car stops, door opens) ♪ ♪ Did you sleep with Eva Meisner?

What sort of question's that?

A relevant one.

I need to know if you slept with a suspect.

Would I do a thing like that?

You were pushing me.

Your choice of woman's been disastrous for years.

How about yours?

I'm fine.

As long as one of us is.

(seagulls squawking) ♪ (click) ♪ We got a stiff.

PIET: The woman that was found dead had a side wound.

A fetish, maybe.

HENDRIK: It may be vampiric.

Someone licked her wound?

JOB: Have you seen this woman?

Sister Catherine.

PIET: Which one of you is lying?

She is.

Stay back!

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