Captain’s cabin, deck 14A
‘What? Stop the ship?’
Daniel Bonhoeffer freed himself from her embrace and gave a resounding laugh.
Julia felt like an idiot and just wanted to leave again.
It had been a mistake to immediately go running to him.
But she was desperate. Lisa hadn’t come back; in all likelihood she was still exploring the ship, which on a luxury liner of this size could take days. It was irrational; everything was probably fine. But after having watched that awful video, Julia’s entire body seemed to be quivering with worry, like the ship beneath her feet, which had been under tension since they’d left port. She felt little of the gentle undulations of the English Channel; now there was droning, whirring and hissing everywhere; the diesel generators lent a slight vibration to the walls and floors, while from outside the noises of the waves drifted into the cabin, albeit muffled by the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
‘Come on, don’t look so miserable. Let’s have a coffee,’ Daniel said with a wink. ‘I really ought to be on the bridge, but fortunately I’ve got superb watch officers.’
He led Julia into the living room of his captain’s cabin which, if she wasn’t mistaken, was on the starboard side below the bridge. On the way here she’d lost her bearings somewhat. Not really a surprise on an ocean liner that had to be photographed from a kilometre away to fit the whole thing in the picture. From one end to the other it was the length of three football pitches, and if you stood on the top deck when arriving in New York you could look the Statue of Liberty in the eye.
‘So, how do you like my little realm?’ Daniel asked.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Julia said, without looking properly.
Like her cabin, this one was dominated by bright rugs and dark leather furniture, although it was much bigger. The décor was luxurious, but completely impersonal. Perfect for ten days’ holiday, but if Julia were living here permanently she’d have exchanged the bland prints on the wall for more individual pictures long ago.
‘When did we last see each other?’ Daniel asked, placing two cups under a coffee machine in the wall unit.
As the machine vibrated into life, he ran his other hand through his blond hair, shaved at the back of the neck, where it seemed a little lighter than his eyebrows, causing Julia to wonder whether the colour was now coming from a bottle. Lisa’s godfather had always been hopelessly vain. She knew no other man who went so regularly to the hairdresser’s, for manicures and even to the waxing studio to have bothersome hair removed from his chest, legs and other parts of his body she’d rather not think about.
‘The last time I spent leave in Berlin was two Christmases ago, wasn’t it?’ he thought aloud. Daniel smiled nervously and suddenly Julia sensed she wasn’t the only one who had something on her mind.
The captain was pale, almost grey around the corners of his mouth, like someone in urgent need of fresh air after a long illness. Standing lost in the room beside a wall unit of heavy mahogany, he looked, in spite of his impressive stature, like a man whose white uniform with the four golden stripes on the epaulettes had become too big. Fine blood vessels showed on his cheeks, making the skin beneath his tired eyes look like marble. At least those eyes weren’t swollen, a sign that he was still on the wagon.
It was a miracle that he was still wearing the captain’s hat at all. Five years ago there had been an incident on the Sultan that Daniel had never wanted to talk about, partly because his contract apparently included a non-disclosure clause. All Julia knew was that the episode had hit him so badly that he drank himself stupid over it and was suspended from his job for a year. After coming off the booze he would most likely have turned up on some clapped-out freighter if his boss, the ship owner Yegor Kalinin, hadn’t also been a recovering alcoholic who preached the principle of a second chance.
‘Right then, say it all again, but this time nice and calmly,’ Daniel said. He put the china cups on a table by some chairs. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingled pleasantly with the air freshener that was ubiquitous on board.
‘What did you mean when you said I had to stop the Sultan and turn back? Are you bored already?’
He smiled uncertainly as he sat down on a chair with curved armrests. Julia huddled in her seat and wondered just how much she needed to tell Daniel for him to take her concerns seriously. She opted for the whole truth and thus spoke succinctly and soberly about her affair with Tom and Lisa’s problems. And about the video.
‘So now you’re worried that your daughter might commit suicide on my ship?’ Daniel asked when she’d finished. She’d hoped he’d laugh at what she said, as when he greeted her earlier. Tell her she was seeing ghosts or something else to dispel her fear. But Daniel had gone unusually quiet.
He blew on the steaming cup in front of him and rubbed his finger over the cruise line’s logo, a bear surrounded by golden laurels with a stylised crown on his head.
‘Don’t you worry,’ he said finally, sounding strangely sombre.
‘But—’
‘I know where Lisa is,’ he said, interrupting Julia’s feeble attempt to protest.
‘You know…?’
He nodded. ‘She’s already come to say hello; she wanted to be on the bridge as we pulled out of port.’
‘You mean, she’s…’
‘Safe and in good hands, yes. I left her in the care of my hotel manager. As we speak she’s personally giving Lisa a tour of the ship.’
‘Phew!’ Julia exhaled audibly, momentarily closing her eyes in relief. Her pulse was still fast, but only because a huge weight had been taken off her mind. She thanked Daniel, who looked weary.
‘Lisa and suicide…’ he said, shaking his head and with a faint smile, as if repeating the punchline of an absurd joke. At once his smile froze. Wearing an expression that now looked as sad as that of a little boy who’s just heard that his favourite pet has died, he said, ‘Maybe it would be for the best if I jumped.’
Julia blinked. She suddenly had the bizarre feeling that she was sitting opposite a complete stranger.
‘What are you talking about?’ she said.
Daniel breathed heavily. ‘I’m in trouble. Big trouble.’
Julia suppressed the urge to look at her watch. Had five minutes passed already, or had Daniel succeeded more quickly this time in steering the conversation around to his own problems?
The captain sighed, pushed the cup away and said, exhausted, ‘Damn it, I really shouldn’t say this to anyone. But at the moment you’re virtually the only person on the ship I can trust.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Julia asked, mystified.
‘You mustn’t tell anybody else, but we’ve got a Passenger 23 on board.’