"Feest!" cried a group of 30 overly loud revellers waiting in the Abbey's car park. The car park was empty except for a small party bus that sat silently off to the side as Nate and Sully, dressed in their casual best, arrived on a crisp and cloudless evening.
The Abbey loomed over them, lights extinguished except for light coming from the ground floor window where Nate and Sully met with Brother Janssen earlier that day. After signing up for the beer tasting tour, under the pretense of making the most of their visit, Brother Janssen told them the next tour was in two days' time.
Afterwards, they checked into a nearby hotel on Hommelsedijk and spent the next two days researching the Abbey, and any blueprints and local maps they could find, as well as picking up the supplies they needed.
A little man in black slacks and a linen shirt approached and introduced himself as Lucas, their guide for the evening. He explained that he would take them around to the back of the abbey where they would be provided refreshments and commence their tasting. The party group cheered loudly, and Nate figured they were a stag party and already well on their way to being soused.
Lucas lead the way past the Abbey church and around a corner where the grounds of the Abbey were lit up like it was Times Square. Lamps were spread evenly down a path leading towards a large, white marquee with string lights hanging around the outside. At the centre of the marquee was a large Maple table, stained with a dark varnish and furnished with plates of hors d'oeuvres. Round, stand-up bar tables were placed at random spots under the marquee. Nate and Sully took one closest to the entrance while the others took their place as close to the bar as possible.
Music had already started, some Dutch rock band playing from hidden speakers.
At the far end of the marquee were a group of waiters and waitresses, dressed in similar black slacks and white shirts, waiting at a mahogany bar where an assortment of beer, wine and spirits rested.
Lucas encouraged everyone to begin and like they were shot out of a canon the stag party raced over to the bar to begin their tasting.
Or continue getting wasted, Nate thought.
Sully lazily walked over to the bar while Nate headed to the snack table where a blonde-haired waitress with a dazzling smile waited with what looked like a silver cake server. Nate returned the smile as he picked up a plate and pointed to one of the trays lined with what looked to be some sort of fish with a red sauce.
"What's this?" he asked.
"That is Seared scallops & fruit reduction" she said with heavily accented English.
"Sounds good. I'll take one of those" he said, and she slide the server under the scallop and placed it on a plate.
"And these are Oysters?" he asked, pointing to a plate of oysters with cheese and other toppings Nate didn't recognise.
The waitress nodded, "Oysters au gratin" she said.
"I'll take one of those as well."
Nate returned to their table with his plate laden with food while Sully returned with two beers.
"Dutch Norbertine beer" Sully announced setting them down on the table.
"Cheers" said Nate and clinked his glass against Sully's.
He took a sip, savouring the cool, yellow liquid and put his glass down on the table. Then took a bite of the seared scallops, found it tasty and finished it off in another bite. "You ready for this" he asked Sully, who was in mid-swig.
He finished his drink and smacked his lips, "Delicious" he said, and then to Nate, "Of course I am."
"Let's do this then," he said, taking another small sip. Placing the glass on the table, he left and hurriedly approached a waiter, asking him for the location to the bathroom, while dancing on the spot and holding on to his stomach and groaning.
The waiter gave him a nod of understanding and with a sympathetic look on his face he pointed out beyond the marquee to the far end of the grounds where Nate could see a small building silhouetted in the darkness.
Thanking the man with a hurried nod, Nate rushed out of the marquee and made his towards the building, his head on a swivel, watching for anyone nearby. Seeing the area was clear he entered the bathroom and locked the door.
The bathroom was dimly lit with a single light. There was a urinal trough and two stalls, one of which had a sign on the door saying niet in orde. It was this door that Nate approached and with the butter knife he took from his table at the marquee, he inserted it into the slit of the lock and changed it from bezet to leeg.
Pushing the door open, he found a black nylon backpack sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. He picked it up and opened it. Seeing everything was as they left it a day before, he pulled on the bag, closed the door and locked it again and left the bathroom.
Outside he moved around the side of the building to the back where he was safely hidden from view.
Satisfied his absence was noted as a case of a bad stomach, Nate pulled a small penlight from his pants pocket and turned it on. The narrow beam of light searched the ground, passing over the lush green grass until he found the square section of concrete and the sewer lid mounted in the middle.
The lid was made of iron, rusted with age and two thin handles, equally rusted, on either side. Pulling on a pair of gloves, Nate gripped the handles and pulled on it with all his strength.
For the barest of moments Nate felt nothing and then the lid gave a little, and then popped up.
Nate grunted as he dragged the heavy sewer lid away from the opening, laying it down as quietly as he could on the concrete. Behind him the music continued as a faint murmur, the bass thudding in the otherwise still night. He shone his penlight and pointed it down into the hole but only saw the rusted rungs attached to the wall leading into the pitch-black sewer.
"Here goes nothing" he muttered, swinging his legs over the side and began climbing down the ladder.