When the Time Comes

When the Time Comes

Oct 04, 2022


Daisy and Daphne are chatting together in class. The annoyed teacher, Miss Miranda, gets up, comes to stand in front of their tables, and asks with a scowl, "You must have already finished your drawings of your interpretation of nature, since you are so delightfully sitting together chatting like that?"
The two girls look at each other and both spontaneously hold up their drawings and reply, "Of course, Miss Miranda!"
The teacher is positively surprised and looks at the girls' drawings very critically—goddamn, these are beautiful drawings.
She looks at the girls with a neutral look in her eyes and says, "Hm, next time try harder girls and please don't chatter so much; it bothers other classmates."

The Happy Daddy

"So you're going to be a father soon?"
"Isn't it great?"
The two strangers fall into each other's arms.
"I never thought I'd be this happy!" shouts the man, as he walks to the bar and rings the bell loudly: "Bartender, the next round is from this happy daddy!"
The enthusiastic crowd applauds.
Later that night, when all the cafes are closed, the happy daddy stumbles into an alley. He leans against a wall with one hand, pees like there’s no tomorrow, and mumbles an unfamiliar tune that solely contains the words "papa."

It’s so quiet on the streets that, other than his song of joy, you would almost believe that he was the last human being on the planet; had it not been for one person that crawls into view from behind a garbage can. The happy daddy stands with his head slightly leaning against the wall to keep his balance as the last drops drip out of him and a sigh of relief echoes throughout the darkened alley. The condensation of his breath surrounds his head and his warm piss hitting the cold street creates the same effect on his body. It’s not enough to baptize him the Fog-man, but it’s enough to not notice the reflection of the person sneaking up on him through the nearby window in the corner of his eye.

Good Night

The shady person is right behind him now; with a short but razor-sharp knife in his hand, he embraces the happy daddy from behind and presses the knife deep into its victim’s chest.
The man feels the stabbing pain in his chest and immediately starts coughing up blood; he sinks to his knees and tilts backwards. Another knife stab through his heart follows, and his light goes out.
The next morning, Detective Danny Bertens and his colleague, Detective Omar Porth, arrived at the crime scene.

Omar sits in a crouched position with one knee on the street in front of the remains, "Do we know who he is yet?"
Bertens replies as he takes in the surroundings: "A happy daddy according to witnesses."
Omar lifts the victim's jacket with his pen and notes: "No wallet, no phone."
Bertens clears his throat: "Probably a cowardly robbery-homicide; he tried to resist and was attacked; a knife in the chest area, twice: No chance."
Omar notices the frown on Bertens’ face and wonders: "What’s up, Danny?"
Bertens answers as he turns away from Omar: "You’re sitting in piss."

The Bank Manager

A man in a black Mercedes drives from the center of Rotterdam towards the Lage Bergse Bos (a park in Rotterdam). The man has an appointment at around eleven in the evening. The driver is a bank manager who received a text message a week ago. The sender has video evidence of his fooling around with a young boy online. The bank manager is being blackmailed by an unknown person and very much wants to keep this quiet. He’s guilty as hell, and he’s willing to pay a hefty sum of hush money.

He parks his car, walks onto the footpath sheltered by woods, and waits suspiciously for his appointment there. Last week he brought a couple of friends with him from the gym where he works out, but the blackmailer was on to him and gave him one more chance to come alone. He knows it’s not a wise decision but sees no alternative. He is curious to know who is behind this information. A cold shiver runs through him. He raises his collar and lights a Camel cigarette.

A pebble rolls down the sidewalk; startled, the bank manager calls out, "Is anyone there?" as he stares into the park's dark paths. There is no answer, and he slowly walks in the direction of the sound, but he sees nothing. Behind him, a figure emerges from the woods and creeps up on him. The manager takes a puff from his cigarette and curses: "Fuck this, I'm out of here!"
Just as he wants to turn around to walk to his car, he receives a blow to the head; like a sandbag, he keels over.


Daisy and Daphne are walking home from school through fields full of knee-high weeds. There is a path home, but the best friends like to do things their own way, and besides, it’s shorter.
"Will you come play with me, Daphne?"
Daphne replies, "Okay, just for a while, because I have to be home on time because my mom is baking pancakes, and after that, they are taking me to the movies because it's my birthday."
Daisy looks at Daphne with big eyes: "You’re going to the movies tonight?"
"Why not? It's Friday; there's no school tomorrow, silly."
"Oh yes, of course; what movie are you going to watch?"
"They won't tell me because then it won't be a surprise anymore."

Hush Money

When the bank manager regains consciousness, he finds himself lying tied up on the ground. The perpetrator approaches and removes his hood. The bank manager lies on his back, opens his eyes, and can't believe who he sees: "You?"
In a panic, he tries in vain to pry loose the thick white colored tie-wraps: "Untie me, damn it; what are you planning to do to me?"
He immediately receives a couple of kicks to the head. Some teeth end up on the street, some loose in his mouth. The perpetrator rolls him back onto his back, pulls open his shirt and sits on top of him.

A big knife emerges from the inside pocket and, with brute force, a swastika is carved into his chest.
The bank manager yells out: "Stop! I'm sorry!"
The perpetrator mercilessly plunges its knife into the manager's throat, and his pleas turn into an unintelligible gurgling sound. As the bank manager slowly drowns in his own blood, the perpetrator calmly stands up, grabs the bag with money, and disappears into the night.

The next morning, Omar stands in front of the bank manager’s body, " bound with thick white colored tie-wraps and stabbed by Neo-Nazis; what a horrible way to meet your end; everything is still there: smartphone, wallet, car keys; clearly a hate crime."

Bertens nods in agreement and questions, "But what was he doing here at eleven in the evening?"
"That’s what the coroner said?" Omar gazes into Bertens’ eyes and asks him a rhetorical question "Well, what do most guys do in a park at around midnight?"
"Fair enough, Omar, but something is off; I sense it."
"Well, we got two perfect killings in two days, with no witnesses; you think there’s a relation?"
"I don’t know, Omar, but it wouldn’t surprise me if this isn’t the last one."

The Good Samaritan Kick Boxer

The kickboxing school is located in an impoverished slum of a city with many problems. Ahmed doesn't see it that way. He sees challenges, not problems, but solutions. He is committed to introducing youth to the art of kickboxing. Ahmed is a beloved person in the neighborhood. As a young boy, he escaped the war in his home country, overcame his traumas and made something of his life. It's already late in the evening when he closes up shop and heads home.

A wonderful vacation is just around the corner. Together with his wife and their two sons, they are going back to their homeland for the first time since he fled. His father and mother went back after the war; they’re still alive and have never seen their grandchildren, well, during video calls on the computer, but of course that is not the same. Ahmed jogs through the city as he makes his way home. He runs through the deserted park where he hears someone calling out for help.

Mister Clumsy

Curious and helpful as he is, he walks towards the darkest part of the park. Attentively, he listens to where exactly the pleas are coming from.
"Help; I strained my ankle!"
Ahmed slowly approaches the spot, "Hello, I don't see you. Where are you?"
"I'm in the bushes!"
Ahmed can’t help but snicker, "How did you end up in there?"
It remains silent. Ahmed reasons that the person is probably just too embarrassed to answer. So he walks into the bushes and he sees a blue light glowing.

"Ah, there you are; I see your phone; I'm coming!"
He pushes aside a bush, but to his surprise, he only sees a cell phone lying on the ground. Ahmed shouts angrily, "What kind of joke is this?"
From a tree, a large heavy stone is thrown right on top of his head.
He falls to the ground and dies instantly. The perpetrator climbs down, grabs a red spray can, and sprays a local gang sign on Ahmed's clothing.

Daisy’s Place

Daisy and Daphne are sitting in the living room, looking out the window. Daisy’s mom has made lemonade for the two and is cleaning the kitchen. Daphne says she will marry a prince when she grows up and become incredibly rich: "Everyone will know me and wave at me."
Daisy laughs, "I can already see you sitting in a carriage with white horses, wearing a golden dress; then I'll come to see you and wave at you; will you invite me to your palace?"
Daphne looks at her friend and giggles, "Of course, you have to look after our children when my husband and I go on vacation to the South of France."
Daisy talks about her desire to become a policeman, just like her father.

The Breakthrough

Late at night, Bertens sits at home on the couch with a glass of whiskey. The victims won't let him go; they look so familiar to him. Forgetting the case for a moment, he flips through an old photo album. He looks at a photo that shows his daughter Daisy with her best friend Daphne. Like Bertens, his daughter is a detective in the police force. He stares at Daphne.
The Bertens family never heard from her again after Daphne moved to another city after a tragic rape case.

Bertens gets a little lightheaded, as if he has déjà vu; like he has been sitting on this couch before, with this whiskey, with this photo album, on the page with the last photo of Daisy and Daphne. He closes the album and decides to go to bed. He has to be up early again tomorrow. It’s early in the morning when Bertens enters the office and sees Omar fanatically working at his desk. Omar skips the usual good morning: "The sarge has revoked your vacation, Danny; I told him how I couldn’t miss you right now."

A little sadistic smile takes hold of Omar’s face. It’s payback for the continued sniffing sounds Bertens made during the first murder case, after Omar knelt in the happy daddy’s dried up piss-spot.
But Bertens doesn't bite and goes straight to the case: "The last murder seems to be gang related; a logo was sprayed on the victim's chest; now we’ve got three murders, same M.O. (Method of Operation), yet all unrelated."
"Maybe that's the connection, Danny."
"What do you mean?"

The Dots

"I have the feeling that we’re only dealing with one killer, which makes us think that there are more." Omar picks up a couple of papers from his desk and waves them in the air; "I did some sleuthing: the victims are all old friends, around the same age. They all played football together in their youth at the same club. They were even teammates."

To Bertens, this sounds all too familiar; if his hunch is correct, there must be a fourth football friend, but he remains silent about his suspicions and hopes that he’s wrong; he lets Omar continue and looks at him: "You stayed up working on the case the entire night without me?"
"I couldn't sleep, Dan."
"Well, tell me what you think!"

Omar slides his chair away from his desk and leans back with his hands folded in his neck: "These three guys were involved in the gang rape of a girl years ago; that is to say, all three were suspects, plus a fourth suspect, but the girl ultimately did not press charges, nor did she recognize the four suspects in a photo lineup."

Danny interrupts with a question: "Was there no evidence?"
"According to the girl, they used condoms; there was some vaginal and bodily harm around the crotch area, but according to our experts, she could have done that herself: there was no conclusive evidence, none. 'Allegedly', they threw her in the water after they were done with her. Now, mind you, she couldn’t swim; by some kind of miracle, she managed to get out on her own; these boys 'allegedly' left her to die."

Not Her

"She went home, she was in shock, washed her clothes, showered and called the police afterwards. She didn’t know any better; really sad."
"Do you believe that this girl took the law into her own hands, all these years later?" asks Bertens, "You said there was a fourth suspect in the alleged rape case; we only have three murders, Omar!"
"Right, Danny, I found the address of the fourth suspect just before you came in. Let's pay a visit to the fourth former suspect, Mister Hassan Bouzkhan, before he ends up dead as well."
Bertens’ face turns white as a ghost—Hassan Bouzkhan, that was the suspect’s name in Daphne’s rape case from twenty years ago; oh dear.

When Bertens hears the other three names, he knows that the killer is a vigilante: the rape victim, Daphne. At least he hopes it’s her, because the other option, well, he doesn’t even want to think about the other option—Daisy lost her best friend that day and she would do anything for her, but would she even kill for her and risk her career, her freedom?
Omar tells Bertens that the victim's name is Daphne Vermeer and that he hasn’t been able to locate her since she has had no home address for the past five years, but colleagues on the street are keeping an eye out for a redhead in her early thirties.


Daphne sees a police car approaching from the distance.
"Here comes your father, Daisy; do you really want to be a policeman like your father?"
"Yes, I sure do!" shouts Daisy at the top of her voice.
"But then you'll get a car like that, too, I guess."
"It doesn't matter to me; I can't stand injustice and I want all the bad men behind bars."
"And all the bad women, too?"
"Yes, those too!"
"Fortunately, I'm not bad, otherwise you'd have to lock me up."
"I would never lock you up, Daphne, and anyone who ever bothers you better watch out."

Then the girls burst into laughter. Meanwhile, Daisy's father has come in and asks what’s so funny.
"Hello, Mister Bertens!" exclaims Daphne. "Oh, nothing at all; Daisy told me she wants to be a policeman too, just like you!"
Policeman Danny Bertens proudly looks at his little girl. "We'll see about that, because you'll always have to eat all your vegetables."
"Yuck, vegetables!" cries Daisy loudly.
Daphne says it's time for her to go home, because her mother will be baking pancakes soon, otherwise they will be late for the movie.

Daisy asks in vain if she can go with Daphne, but policeman Bertens is implacable and says that her mother already has vegetables on the stove. Bertens asks if Daphne would like it if he walked her home.
"It's alright, Mister Bertens; it's only two blocks away and it's still light, after all."
Daphne hugs Daisy, and policeman Bertens gets a hand: "Bye, see you tomorrow!"
Bertens and Daisy call out: "Bye, Daphne, have fun!"
Daphne walks out, closes the door, waves briefly at the window, and then disappears from sight.

The Farewell

Together they drive into Bouzkhan's street at breakneck speed. Bertens rings the bell at the front door while Omar runs around the back: "Danny," shouts Omar, "the back door is unlocked!"
Omar wants to enter, but Bertens stops him: We can’t just enter a man’s home.
Omar comes up with an excuse to enter: "I thought I heard someone call out for help in there."
Bertens sighs but decides to unconditionally back his colleague: "Alright, let's go in!"
The two detectives go in through the back door. There is no one in the living room, but the TV is on: "Hello, police!" shouts Omar.

With guns drawn, they walk further into the house. Slowly, they creep up the stairs, "Hello, Mister Bouzkhan; the police!"
Omar stands with his back against the bedroom wall, and Bertens kicks the door open: "Hands up, police!" they shout.
A man sits behind his laptop with his back to the detectives. Omar taps Bertens on his shoulder and points to the ground, under the man's chair; there is a large pool of blood. They slowly lower their weapons and walk around the chair. Hassan Bouzkhan sits behind his laptop, his wrists slit open.

On his desk lay a bloody knife, the lucky daddy's wallet, his phone, a couple of thick white colored tie-wraps, and a red spray can.
Bertens puts his fingers on Bouzkhan's neck to see if he still has a heartbeat: "He's dead, Omar; there is our knife; that blood is probably from the bank manager; a wallet and a phone from our first victim; and the red spray can from the kick boxer; it seems we have our culprit."
Omar walks over to Bouzkhan's laptop. It’s still on; an open word document reads a message: "Here is a confession in Arabic; I will translate it for you, Danny."

The Note Goodbye

Omar reads the Arabic text out loud for Bertens: "I am responsible for killing my friends. I took revenge for the deeds for which my friends and I were never punished. We did rape that girl. We were young and stupid. I cannot go on living. I want to be able to look God in the eyes. I take responsibility because the girl did not or could not do that back then. I am so very sorry. May God forgive me."

Bertens looks at Omar and wonders: "Why write it on a computer?"
"True, Danny, but then again, who really writes anymore these days?"
"Why different motives, Omar?"
"He obviously wanted to commit all three murders and not get caught before he was finished."
"Alright, can you call the lab?"

While Omar is busy making phone calls, Bertens gets suspicious—this is too perfect.
Bertens decides to make a call of his own: "Hello?"
"Hello, Dad?"
"Hi, Daisy. Yes, it’s me; how are you?"
"Great, dad, but it’s three in the morning here."
"You’re still in the States?"
"Yeah, dad; is everything alright?"
"Oh, I’m sorry I woke you; yes, everything is fine, baby; everything is fine now; go back to sleep."
"Bye, dad. I love you."
"I love you too; bye."

On My Honor

Bertens is relieved that his daughter has nothing to do with these killings, and he slowly starts to walk around Bouzkhan’s body. Then his eye catches a white piece of plastic around the victim's wrist—aha, a thick white colored tie-wrap, so Bouzkhan was tied up; he was killed; it was Daphne that killed him; she made one mistake; she forgot to take one tie-wrap; my God, she killed them all.
Bertens has always felt guilty for not walking Daphne home that day. Yes, it was daylight. Yes, she had walked that same route home a hundred times. Yes, it was a very quiet neighborhood, but still: if only he had... if only he had...

When Omar walks out of the room for a moment while talking on the phone, Bertens is alone in the room; he quickly pulls the tie-wrap out of Bouzkhan's sleeve and puts it in his pocket: "Not this time, boys," whispers Bertens to himself, referring to his law enforcement colleagues.
Bertens sabotages the investigation and decides to let Daphne walk. He slowly walks to the window that overlooks the dirty industrial city; he stares into the distance and again whispers, "I hope you find your peace now, girl; you’ve earned it."

The Red Head

Somewhere in a garage stall in a remote industrial area, a woman sits alone; she’s staring at a bulletin board with headlines of newspapers pinned to it. She takes a deep breath, a sigh of relief sounds as she gets up of her chair. One by one, she removes the headlines from the board.
One headline reads "Girl raped by four boys," and another headline reads, "Rape suspects go free."

She grabs a lighter and sets all of them on fire. She takes a handwritten letter and unfolds it. She reads her self-written text one more time. It is Bouzkhan's farewell letter translated from Dutch into Arabic. She then burns the forged suicide note along with the headlines and she leaves the garage box relieved and ready for the rest of her life.

The Photo Line Up

Daphne's parents talk to the detective at the police station about the young suspects; she hears how the boys will be punished more lightly simply because they are still minors. She hears her mother cursing, and her father is not unconcerned either. The policeman urges her parents to calm down and warns them not to go too far with their swearing because they may spend a night in jail. Daphne can't believe all she hears and that now her own parents are being threatened with incarceration, but she doesn't show any displeasure; she is far too tired for that.

She sits next to a child psychologist who supports her as she flips through a book full of pictures of men. The four suspects are in it, too. Daphne recognizes them immediately, but she flips through and closes the book when the last page is reached. She looks at the police officer and says she doesn't recognize anyone in the book. Daphne is led away by a psychologist and her parents, and in the end, no charges will be filed against the suspects. Daphne sits in her parents' car; she is allowed to sit in the front seat.

Her mother puts a hand on Daphne’s shoulder from the backseat and squeezes it for a moment: "Are you sure you didn't recognize anyone, dear?"
Daphne looks aside for a moment, then says, "Yes mom, I'm sure."
"Never mind, dear; they'll get them."
Her father starts the car and drives off the parking lot onto the road. Daphne looks outside; from the car, she sees the suspects walking through the tall windows of the hall of the police station. She watches them closely; they are smiling, and as the moving car slowly hides the police station from view, Daphne solemnly promises herself—I will get you for this.

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