Secret agent Johan van Kastel's life is no longer a secret. In his book 'My head had to come off', the now-retired policeman details the most nerve-wracking, frustrating and extraordinary moments of his career.
Text: Rosan Bijpost Photography: Ineke Oostveen and private archive Johan van Kastel
Just outside the centre of a cosy Brabant town, Van Kastel welcomes us to his home, where the cosiness of the town continues. "Some expect Manhattan Grey when they come in here, but I like cosy and snug," he says. He dives into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Prominently displayed on the wall is a picture of the whole family: wife, children, supporters and grandchildren. Proudly, he tells how smart some are, and how mischievous others are. A family man. On the table, next to his own book, is the latest edition of GW. "I sometimes nose around in it, and thought I'd buy one again to see what I get myself into". He holds a biscuit tin under my nose. "Cookie there?"
Johan van Kastel is considered the spiritual father of undercover work in the Netherlands. Although he used to have no idea what he wanted to be, this work turned out to be for him. From 1979 to 2005, he was in charge of secret operations in all kinds of big cases, including the famous Heineken kidnapping. Pursuits, eavesdropping, being threatened and absconding, it sounds like a good James Bond film. But what we usually know from films and series was reality for Van Kastel.
On an adventure, again
The compelling stories of his career received rich media attention after his retirement announcement and the question soon followed: why don't you write a book? So it happened. The ex-secret agent delved into his past and captured the most intriguing and unctuous details. "This is quite different from writing an annual report or policy note. This felt like an adventure of a completely different nature, a completely new world."
Now he is quietly enjoying his cup of coffee and a biscuit, but in the book he takes you back to less peaceful moments in his life. Newspaper articles and books from the past were pulled out and old colleagues were called. A trip down memory lane. "With some memories I thought, good thing that's behind me. But with others I thought, darn, if only I could experience that again. Investigations involve an enormous amount of work. And when everything turns out well, it's such a euphoric moment."
Heineken and the Chinese
One such moment was the famous Heineken kidnapping, Van Kastel says. An operation in which the whole country waited for the right outcome. Freddie Heineken and his driver were eventually discovered thanks to two Chinese takeaways. Indeed, it was known that one liked babi pangang and the other always ordered something with shrimp, and the kidnappers had not been able to keep that detail a secret from Van Kastel and his team. "When the kidnappers took the meals to a warehouse in Amsterdam West, we managed to find them and free them. That was amazing." With a twinkle in his eye, Van Kastel tells of other exciting actions he has had the pleasure of carrying out. "In Brabant, we captured a PKK terrorist camp. A very complex operation. With arrest teams, apprehension units, tactical investigators, observation teams... And then when we catch the whole gang in one fell swoop, it's kind of kick-ass." Melancholically, he adds, "What a time that was."
No psychological help
But it is not the kick which made Van Kastel choose this profession. "You bring a piece of decency and safety back into society. You take a sting out of it, as it were. That was my motivation." That motivation is important. After all, the profession brings with it the necessary stress, tension and woes. In his book, Van Kastel talks about his first experiences with corpses, compelling events like the Bijlmer disaster and the moments that touched him personally. "Once, a woman died in my arms after being run over by a truck. Then it suddenly becomes very close. That could also have been my neighbour or even my mother..."
At the police station at the time, there was no counselling to deal with moments like this and you were not asked how you were doing afterwards. "No, you would have a cup of coffee with the sergeant and he would say: 'Well are you ready again? There's a new report waiting.' You had to deal with it yourself. And I somehow managed to do that. I did allow myself to feel the fear or sadness, but then turned the knob because, indeed, tomorrow there will be other people asking for help."
Fortunately, Van Kastel possesses a "steel cable", as his current wife describes it. And that often came in handy. For example, when he entered an illegal gambling house and was ridiculed by the gambling boss. "Then you are made fun of in front of a large group of shady people. At such a moment, you can freeze or act. With me, an inner counsellor then became alert saying: you won't let yourself be known. We will not give way and we will not go home empty-handed. In this profession, it is important to have that in your genes. Because it is soon make or break. Every day you are put to the test."
Price on Van Kastel's head
The period from which the book title, 'My head had to come off', originated caused paranoia. 100,000 guilders had been paid to kill Van Kastel and his boss. Although the two could still joke about it - was that really all they were worth? -, it soon became a matter of going into hiding. "In the IRT period, I was so tense. The IRT - a secret police team on the hunt for Klaas Bruinsma and his successors - used inadmissible and corrupt investigative methods. I put a stop to that and it led to a lot of threats from the criminal world, but also from my own organisation. I kept an eye on everything and everyone." Every new car, every strange passer-by; Van Kastel's antennae were working overtime. Many years have passed since then, but those antennas are still doing their job. "Another car in my street still stands out, and crazy behaviour always needs to be explained. I can still be wary, but I don't let it dominate anymore."
As part of the police and, in Van Kastel's case, part of the undercover unit, that steel cable always played an important role. Feelings of fear and sadness had to be able to get rid of you, but you also had to guard against pity. "We taught undercover officers not to become soft-hearted. Part of this job is befriending the criminals. You go out with them, have a beer with them, play a game of golf, get to know the family - but you always have to see through that and realise they are crooks. That is why it is so important that undercover agents have a strong sense of justice and keep the investigative interest in mind. Because even though he's a nice guy, he still pulls rat tricks. And we catch him for that. That's where the focus is."
Nevertheless, Van Kastel still insists on how important it is to keep seeing that piece of people too. "These days, detectives build up a picture of criminals based on data. The criminals then consist, as it were, of figures of burglary, murder, drug trafficking or other criminal cases. But it is so important to look past that and see that he also has a family, walks a dog and sits at his mother-in-law's house on Sunday nights watching Studio Sport with his plate on his lap. That doesn't make him better or worse, but it does show that this is a human being." According to him, this also applies on the streets. "All those cops nowadays walk the streets wide equipped with tear gas, pistol, truncheon and taser. Good to be able to deal with that, of course, but they sometimes forget that you also have to be human and approachable. Make contact and seek connection. Just stepping forward and seeking rapprochement reduces the chances of hassle and escalation."
Tension in Van Kastel family
That Van Kastel cared deeply about his work is clear - he put almost all his time into it. Combined with a home front consisting of wife and children, this was sometimes quite difficult. "You don't want to burden them with heavy information. Besides, when I got home, I was happy to sit on the sofa with a whisky and talk about something else. Still, I brought a lot of tension into the house, whether it came through me or through the media. I, and with me automatically my family, have been doused with that sauce." And that still brings concerns. So does his current wife while writing this book. "I naturally write about people involved in crime, sometimes naming them by name. Many of them are still alive. That still creates tension. My wife still says then 'be careful what you do'."
For Van Kastel, however, it is important to share these stories. Not long ago, headlines such as 'Dutch James Bond is retiring' appeared in the media, but he does not recognise this. "Series like Penoza or Underover... I'm impressed by those, though. That comes close and really resembles 'my' world. I think it is nice to see that, and also important that it is shared. The criminal world may be a separate case, but it is there. And when things go wrong there, you don't sit down for a performance review. No, then there is intimidation, violence or even worse." Even though he is now retired, Van Kastel is still occasionally called to ask how he would handle something. Not surprisingly, because if anyone has experience... In his book, you can read all about it.
My head had to come off | Johan van Kastel | Luitingh-Sijthoff | 288 pages | € 20.99 | ISBN 978 90 210 4736 2
English 
Dutch 
German