Later in life, he’d got to know people there. Very different people: ones he’d met at conferences where inhabitants of low-lying places came together to obsess about sea level. They’d be surprised if a personal representative of the Queen of the Netherlands just turned up without any advance notice. But he had a perfect alibi: he had gone to check in on his father. So before pulling out of the driveway he sent a message to Hugh St. Vincent, a department head at Tulane, announcing his presence in the area, apologizing for the late notice, and asking if there was anything new worth seeing. Hugh would understand that Willem was not asking for recommendations on where to eat beignets or listen to jazz.