Diary of a Widower

Daily entries by a husband, who stayed behind with his two sons

Facts of the fatal collision

WEDNESDAY, January 20 – Late this afternoon I received a copy of the provisional criminal prosecution files. The cover of the  100 page report reads:  Fatal collision, October 22, 2009 at or about 15:50, at the crosswalk Stadion Road in Amsterdam. Summons number 2009 036333’.

All the details are there, technical and forensic, but the most important documents are the depositions of the witnesses, which are highly incriminating for the motorcycle cop. He is fucking toast. Fucking, fucking toast. I’m very, very angry at him. What an incredible bastard. The other people in the coffee place, where I have sat down to read the files, are giving me strange looks.

I shake my head. Emotional material. Description of Jennifer’s last moments, over and over again, in the words of the eyewitnesses. I’m not going to examine all that now.  When I get home, I’ll study it carefully.  Tomorrow my lawyer and I have an appointment with the public prosecutor.

I’m close to home when it all gets to be too much for me. Walking down Beethoven Street, I’m about to step into the crosswalk when the driver of a Land Rover, after initially slowing down, blows his horn and drives straight through. I catch up with him, knock on the window, and call him everything under the sun. I also explain why I’m so angry. He doesn’t say anything.

When I get home, I ask the babysitter to stay for another ten minutes. Upstairs in my bedroom, I start crying, and then get hold of myself. Eamonn needs me. Early this morning he told me that he thought some of his classmates were making fun of him behind his back.  No proof, of course, but the suspicion is preying on his mind. I have to reassure him: right now that’s more important than the proof of Jennifer’s death.

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