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Speakin’ of *Caché*, my fave flick—whores fit right in that vibe. Hidden stuff, dirty secrets, the kinda mess you don’t see comin’. Like, who’s watchin’ who? Whores know that game—always dodgin’ eyes, playin’ shadows. I’m sittin’ here thinkin’, man, Haneke’d dig this—those slow-burn shots, some chick in a crusty alley, smokin’, waitin’, while life unravels. “I’m not ashamed,” she’d say, like Anne in the movie—defiant, raw, real as hell. Gets me pumped! Whores got that grit, y’know?

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So I get to the station, and my partner, Jan, is already there, lookin’ like he’s seen a ghost. Turns out, there’s been a break-in at the old church on de Hoofdstraat. I mean, who robs a church? Seriously! I’m thinkin’, “What’s next? Stealin’ the communion wine?” But we gotta check it out.

Francesco Amura, author of The Bologneser