The Fourth Figure by Brian; Pieter; Doyle Aspe Page B

You’ve made me curious. It’s time we paid a visit to Mr. Geens.” Van In got to his feet and shook the police physician’s hand.
    The police physician accompanied them to the door. “One thing, Commissioner. Raf Geens is the sensitive type. He lives for his work. If I were you, I wouldn’t make any jokes about it.”
    â€œI wasn’t planning to,” said Van In, a little surprised. He let Guido lead the way and pulled the door closed behind him.
    The laboratory of the judicial police was located next door to the new courthouse, a modern building in which the chances of losing your way were close to 100 percent. The architect who’d designed the complex was clearly a Kafka fan and had deployed the labyrinth principle wherever he could. When he was interviewed by a journalist after the opening, he’d declared that giving concrete form to a concept like the administration of justice required a healthy dose of sarcasm. He had succeeded with honors. Lawyers could be found wandering lost in the courthouse corridors, only to plead without the least embarrassment that their cases had expired while they were searching for the courtroom.
    Van In and Guido were fortunate to find a helpful attendant who pointed the way to the kingdom of Raf Geens. A sign on the door to his laboratory read: i wish to be disturbed only by intelligent people .
    â€œThat means you,” said Guido.
    Van In shrugged his shoulders and opened the door. What should have been a tidy, sterile space looked more like a dorm room than a laboratory. The walls were plastered with posters of the Rolling Stones, and a radio crackled from somewhere in the depths of the place. The center of the room had the usual laboratory island with cupboards and a work surface covered with Petri dishes, long-necked flasks, test tubes, Bunsen burners, a microscope, a centrifuge, and dozens of bottles containing a rainbow of colorful powders. The modern technical stuff was lined up on a table against the wall: a powerful computer, a spectrometer, an oscilloscope, and a string of devices Van In had never seen before.
    â€œHe’s probably drinking coffee somewhere,” said Guido.
    â€œI don’t think so,” said Van In, nodding in the direction of a coffee machine on top of a filing cabinet. Its light was still on, and it was half full. Van In made his way to the other end of the laboratory. Suddenly he heard a sound that didn’t emanate from the radio. He gestured to Guido to come closer. Next to the window, and hidden from sight by the work island, a man slept on a rickety camp bed, gently snoring. Van In cautiously shook his shoulder. “Good morning, Mr. Geens. I hope we’re not disturbing you.”
    The sleeper opened his eyes, his lack of surprise suggesting that it wasn’t the first time someone had had to wake him like this.
    â€œI’m Commissioner Van In, and this is Sergeant Versavel. The police physician sent us. We’re investigating the Andries case.”
    Geens’s face brightened at the word Andries . He clambered to his feet, buttoned his white coat, and shook Van In’s hand. The man had a gray Vandyke and round glasses that made him look professorial, if a little shabby.
    â€œA magnificent case, Commissioner, and a once-in-a-lifetime experience, if you ask me. I almost missed it, to be honest. The police physician had no idea what to make of it, and pathology was at a complete loss.”
    Geens clearly didn’t suffer from morning moodiness. Van In could hardly believe that the man had been asleep only thirty seconds earlier. “I’m intrigued, Mr. Geens.”
    The spritely lab technician folded the camp bed and stored it in a large metal locker. “All in due course, Commissioner. Please, take a seat. Can I offer you something to drink? A wee nip of the hard stuff perhaps?”
    Geens rummaged between the distillation flasks and bottles of chemical solvent, one