‘Welcome on board, Herr Schwartz!’
Martin stood. The man on the other end of the line had a firm, slightly hoarse voice. He spoke German with a barely detectable Slav accent. Martin guessed he must be in his mid to late fifties. The voice sounded familiar but no face appeared in his mind.
‘Who is this?’ Martin had been expecting the captain, but the coward probably didn’t dare even speak to him over the phone.
‘My name is Yegor Kalinin,’ the man replied, to Martin’s astonishment. ‘How do you like my ship?’
‘Your prison, you mean. Where is the girl?’
Yegor gave an amused chuckle. ‘Aha, I see you’ve already had your chat with Gerlinde Dobkowitz.’
Martin paused, a pause that the ship owner used to let him know just how well informed he was about every step he took on board.
‘You didn’t really think you’d been summoned by an old bag for help, did you? Surely not. The truth is that I wanted to have you here.’ His chuckling grew louder. ‘Old Dobkowitz thinks she’s got one up on us by consulting you, but all she did was fall for one of my tricks.’
Martin nodded silently. He’d already considered this possibility. Although he hadn’t changed his private number for years, this was only because there’d been no reason to. Sure, his lawyers knew it, but they’d never published it in any case notes. The billionaire must have excellent sources and deliberately given Gerlinde the file he’d scribbled the number down on.
‘Why are you telling me all of this?’ Martin asked. Turning his back to the doctor, he went over to the porthole. The sun was just setting and the horizon above the sea had a reddish shimmer.
‘To win your trust.’
Martin laughed scornfully. ‘By admitting to manipulating other people?’
‘Yes, I’m an honest soul,’ Yegor laughed. ‘And, hand on heart, I had to use Gerlinde to get you to join us. If Bonhoeffer or I had called, you’d never have come on board.’
‘Did you just say join us?’
‘Yes. I wish to employ you.’
Now it was Martin’s turn to laugh. ‘As what?’
‘As a therapist. Treat our Passenger 23.’
Martin tapped his head. ‘I’m not a child psychologist.’
‘But you did study psychology.’
‘That was a long time ago.’
‘Besides, as a result of your job you know how to deal with traumatised victims. And with people who hide away. Look after the girl. Find out where Anouk has spent the past couple of months.’
Martin pressed his hand against the cold glass of the porthole and shook his head. ‘Why should I help you abduct a child?’
‘Because you don’t have any choice.’
‘Are you threatening to do away with the girl if I go public with this?’
‘Those are your words.’
He fancied he could hear a little dog barking in the background, but couldn’t be sure.
‘Bonhoeffer tells me you haven’t been right in the head since your tragedy,’ Yegor said. ‘But you were compos mentis enough to solve the Anouk Lamar puzzle. And thus your own trauma too, perhaps. Am I not right in thinking you have a vested interest in this case?’
Martin thought of the teddy now in his duffle bag, and looked over at the doctor, who hadn’t moved during the telephone call. She was still standing by the patients’ chair, holding the ampoule, looking like someone out of place at her own party.
‘I think I’m going to notify the authorities.’ Martin said. The doctor gave the slightest of nods. A subconscious gesture of agreement.
‘And tell them what?’ Yegor’s voice became deeper and he did a very passable imitation of Martin’s baritone: ‘“Hello, I’m Martin Schwartz, the chap who once sued the Kalinin shipping company and its captain. Yes, I know nobody wanted to believe my claim that my family didn’t jump to their deaths even though all the evidence pointed in that direction. Yes, the press wrote that I was blinded by my grief and in spite of the chloroform rag beside the bed I was set on finding someone to blame for the tragedy. I lost all the cases and my credulity back then. But this time I’ve got real proof that something strange is afoot on this ship.”’ Yegor laughed as if he’d cracked a dirty joke.
‘They will listen to me,’ Martin retorted. ‘This time there are too many witnesses.’
‘Are we now talking about the crazy grandma who even in esoteric forums is regarded as batty? Oh, yes, and have fun with the FBI. They’ll be rolling up here, you see, as soon as we report our Passenger 23. Anouk Lamar is a US citizen. They’ll seize the ship and order a month-long search—’
‘Which will cost you millions.’
‘And you the truth, Martin. Do you really believe the FBI will make you the same offer that I am?’
‘What offer?’
Martin had the feeling that his right ear was getting hotter; he put the phone to the other side of his head. ‘I’ll let you speak to the girl,’ Yegor said. ‘For as long and often as you like. The FBI, on the other hand, will immediately remove you from the case because they’ll believe you’re prejudiced. Only I can grant you unfettered access to all areas of this liner.’
‘So you’re expecting me to find out what happened to her without making the matter public?’
‘Correct.’
Martin closed his eyes. Opened them again. Couldn’t assemble a clear thought in his head.
‘Where is Anouk?’ he asked.
‘Dr Beck will take you to her. First thing tomorrow morning.’
‘I want to see her now.’
Yegor laughed. ‘This is the problem with wishes. Only the wrong ones come true straight away. Have a good sleep first. Tomorrow is without a doubt going to be a tiring day.’