It ain’t over till it’s over. He who laughs last, laughs best. It ain’t over until the fat lady sings. Human history is filled with truths like these.

Dear readers, I believe I may know the exact location of Natalee Holloway — a specific grave number (with extension) at St. Anna Cemetery in Aruba. Here is how that came about.

Last Sunday, I was working on part 2 of my new YouTube idea: Story Telling Lions, in which I hoped to engage viewers of my channel more through YouTube Shorts. I had also recently created several high-interest playlists, including ones about Joran van der Sloot, Rob Nanninga, and Robbert van den Broeke. I decided that the second YouTube Short would focus on Joran van der Sloot. So I made it and published it.

For that reason, I started Googling again, searching for images of St. Anna Cemetery — the place where Stan P. had once given the very concrete indication that Natalee Holloway was supposedly buried. “Number 15, with a little crack somewhere near the bottom of the grave.” The reason I took — and still take — Stan seriously regarding this indication is because he originally wanted to make it public through his close friend, the demonstrably fraudulent “medium” and, for many years at least, hate-and-threat “medium,” Robbert van den Broeke. Robbert would become world-famous, and Natalee found: a double-edged sword. Stan was also friends with Joran van der Sloot and allegedly hacked Joran’s iPhone using a Trojan horse, where he supposedly came across this note inside Joran’s phone. I refer readers to my earlier blogs, and also to the internet, where quite a lot about Stan can now be found.

To my own surprise, I then stumbled completely by accident upon entirely new information: photographs of all the graves at St. Anna Cemetery. A gentleman — whom I now openly praise for this — has for many years faithfully photographed graves and uploaded them to a central website. A grave enthusiast, so to speak, but clearly someone with deep respect for the subject. And only now did I discover that, in December 2023, he had added photographs of St. Anna Cemetery in Aruba. The Joran van der Sloot year: 2023. The very year in which Joran gave a false confession about how he supposedly murdered Natalee and threw her into the sea — a story that virtually everyone agrees was nonsense, yet another fabrication, because the ocean currents around Aruba would supposedly have carried her back to shore almost immediately.
I see no indication whatsoever that this photographing gentleman was involved with the case in any way; he simply did — and still does — his own thing.

And thanks to the advancing digital age, I discovered that there are no fewer than 31 graves at St. Anna Cemetery containing the number 15. Far more than the few suggested by Ilan Hoekstra in his podcast De Vrienden van Joran.

Still completely blank in my mind over what nevertheless felt like a gigantic discovery, I went through all 31 graves based on the photographs. Roughly half could immediately be eliminated, because they had only come into use after 2005. (Natalee disappeared in May 2005, so anything after 2005 seemed unlikely as a possible hidden final resting place.) I then started eliminating graves that were visibly hermetically and massively sealed shut — not even an ant could crawl through them. These are above-ground graves because of Aruba’s hard, nearly impossible-to-dig soil. Some were even bolted shut. In the end, only a few remained.

For a brief moment I went down the wrong path, encouraged by my hopeful brain: a grave bearing the name Maria… But that turned out impossible because it was later reused by a second Maria.
And then I saw it.

And this is the moment I want to shout from the rooftops.

I uploaded the new Joran van der Sloot Short, but honestly: the magnitude of my discovery had not yet fully sunk in. In that Short, I even included two screenshots: one of the search results and one of the grave itself. I walked into my bedroom, where a portrait of Rob Nanninga hangs, and in my mind he immediately whispered to me: cover the face and the name! Rob knows how impulsive I can be. Fortunately, thanks to Rob, I did that. But only during the following night did the full weight of it truly reach me. This was not something you casually throw into the world through a YouTube Short. This needed to be investigated all the way to the bottom of Aruba itself. That is why, the following Monday, I decided to set that YouTube Short to private. It did not feel right. Fortunately, the video had only received 46 views, although two people had already shared it.

And why did I want to shout it from the rooftops — and still do? Because I felt that I had finally seen the light. I truly think so. That at last the fog had lifted and everything had become clear to me. And with that, the Peter R. de Vries “prophecy” would also come true — but in a very earthly way. Readers familiar with my two 2025 books, Genverbranders and Another Davis, will know about my Peter R. de Vries “astral journey” of September 21, 2014, in which Peter R., in what at least then seemed a mysterious and prophetic manner, told me that “secret files and folders” become visible when “the right light” falls upon them. At the time, I had no idea what to make of this highly elaborate “astral journey,” but later the entire Stan line surrounding Natalee Holloway truly began.

And entirely in keeping with the taste and truth-seeking spirit of Rob Nanninga, I believe this is exactly what happened last SUNday — yes, even that. The right light fell upon it, and very concretely so through the photography of a highly dedicated grave photographer. Nothing paranormal: simply the light of a camera lens.

I discovered that, if what I have discovered is true, this would become a true apotheosis for Beth Holloway: genuinely and sincerely the only outcome that would truly have done justice to her — and, in a way, to all of us — regarding dear Natalee Holloway. Where she had really been all those years. And above all — explicitly above all — with whom. I could even discern a small crack in the grave in the photograph. There was one extremely intense detail, something that felt so incredibly fitting, but I still cannot say what it is.

I explicitly do not present any of this as established fact, but rather as a very concrete lead, based on demonstrably newly available information.

Although I would most love to lay everything out here in full detail, I realize that I cannot and may not do so. Out of respect for the person connected to that grave. Out of respect for the fact that evidence must first be found, and only after that should even the possible opening of that grave be considered at all. And if she is not there, then DNA investigation should still take place in that exact same grave. I cannot reveal the name or face of the person whom I believe may have taken Natalee by the hand on the other side all those years ago. And if it ultimately turns out not to be correct, then the most obvious graves containing the number 15 should still be scanned and investigated further.

It is beautiful. It is already a famous opera. If it is true. And I think it is. It is a cosmic arrangement of fate that, viewed somehow positively from an afterlife perspective, carries immense meaning. There is no realistic way for me to contact Beth Holloway; she is — rightly or wrongly — shielded by a wall of a hundred gatekeepers. Unfortunately, I do not have the money to travel to Aruba. Quite the opposite, in fact. But I am searching for a highly reliable and trustworthy person living in Aruba who could check for me whether the grave photographed in December 2023 is still there, still beautifully sealed, waiting for people who are finally willing to pursue this lead further and truly.