SUN, SEA, SAND AND - QUIETLY SELLING DRUGS FOR A LIVING

REMCO sells drugs for a living a few doors away from the murdered
Irishmen's apartment block. ``These drugs are legal,'' he smiled
broadly. ``Nothing heavy, nothing to get anybody angry at me.''

His shop in the heart of the tourist area specialises in cannabis,
dope-related equipment and souvenirs with the plant's distinctive leaf
design. A constant flow of customers bought his marijuana yesterday at
less than pounds 5 a gram.

Remco's favourite word is heavy: the dead men must have been involved
in a ``heavy scene'' he suggested, they must have ``annoyed some
pretty heavy people. Still, to die so brutally ... '' his voice
trailed off.

``I didn't know them. But then they wouldn't have been interested in
what I sell, it's no big deal. From what I hear it wouldn't have been
heavy enough for them. It's not serious drugs.''

Remco, of Venezuelan extraction but Dutch-born, doesn't regard himself
as part of the local drugs scene. Cannabis is decriminalised in The
Netherlands, in common with some other European countries.

He broke off to sell an English couple, obviously tourists, two grams
and they examined some of his extensive collection of pipes starting
at around pounds 7 but leapfrogging to 10 times as much.

They were quickly succeeded by a stereotypical blond Dutch boy who
proffered such a large note for his ``skunk,'' cannabis forced grown
under strong lights for increased potency, that Remco went to the cafe
next-door for change.

``Do you like my shop?'' he asked proudly. Er, lovely apart from the
pornographic magazines. The shop is called Ja Ja - yeah yeah in Dutch.
He returned voluntarily to the subject of the murdered trio, unusually
for a Scheveningen resident. They prefer not to dwell on the gruesome
killings.

Remco, no more than 30 himself, was stricken by the youth of the dead
men at 21, 24 and 29. ``They were very young,'' he said. ``Young to be
in the drugs business and young to be lying dead.''

Philosophical musings were interrupted once again by a tattooed man
who made a purchase. Was the shop always so busy? Remco acknowledged
trade was brisk, although the public holiday meant the streets were
unusually crowded.

``You Irish?'' interrupted the customer. ``My mate's Irish; hey,
O'Shea, there's an Irish reporter in here, come and talk to her.''

He stepped outside in search of his friend, who had vanished. ``That's
funny, he was here a minute ago,'' he frowned.

The shop specialises in kitsch: cannabis leaf fairy lights, ashtrays
and boxer shorts, postcards with the Easter Island heads smoking
reefers, posters showing aliens saying ``take me to your dealer.''
There's even a picture of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, fig
leaves replaced by the inevitable cannabis leaf.

Ja Ja is on the road to the beach, crowded with sun worshippers. This
appealing combination of sea, beach and promenade was the view from
the picture window in the living room of flat 1058 where the Irishmen
were slaughtered.

Gazing up from the promenade, it was possible to pick out their
windows and balcony in the Gevers Deynootweg block; no one on this
tourist strip was bothered to attempt it. A carnival atmosphere was
all pervasive in the dazzling sunshine and the shadow of violence
seemed remote.

A dark-haired teenager sat to have his portrait sketched in pencil
almost directly beneath the apartment complex while behind him
children bounced on a trampoline.

Everywhere was shining and clean, no hint of that darker dimension to
Dutch life fuelled by the drugs scene. Even on a national holiday,
road sweepers were busy collecting rubbish and huge litter bins were
spaced at regular intervals on the beach.

Life was continuing as normal for the Irishmen's neighbours. Local man
Axel struggled to explain their apparent indifference, as people drank
cappuccinos outdoors opposite a fountain and open-topped American cars
drove past.

``This is a transient community,'' he said. ``Remember we're close to
The Hague, the embassy city. Diplomats, politicians and embassies are
here temporarily and then move on. People don't notice different
nationalities.

``It's a seaside resort so it attracts tourists and day-trippers, it's
not the sort of place where you get to know your neighbours. Besides,
the victims were in the drugs business.''

Doesn't brutality shock, doesn't it diminish any community
irrespective of a drugs link? Axel looked sheepish and gave no answer.