Nautical time: 08.30
49°40’ N, 07°30’ W
Speed: 27 knots, Wind: 15 knots
Swell: 1.5–4 feet
Distance from Southampton: 219.6 nautical miles
Celtic Sea
On the steel door it said ‘CREW ONLY’, and the red paintwork was sufficient to warn unauthorised people that they were unwelcome here.
Dr Elena Beck swiped her key card through a reader, prompting a buzzing that sounded like an electric razor.
‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ she said, pushing the door open with her shoulder, ‘I don’t think it’s a particularly good idea to let a strange man see her…’
‘Really?’ Martin said. ‘And I thought that fierce look was because you missed out on giving me an injection yesterday.’
The doctor was expressionless.
‘But,’ she said, continuing her train of thought, ‘I’m very pleased that a psychologist is going to look after Anouk; someone who knows about violence and traumatised victims. That girl can do with all the help she can get.’
He followed her up a high doorstep and into a brightly lit, narrow corridor.
On deck A, just above the waterline, the service corridors had very little in common with the passenger area. You walked on linoleum instead of thick carpet, the walls were painted grey and you’d search in vain for framed pictures.
‘Where’s our coward, then?’ Martin asked. He was tired and felt as if he hadn’t slept for even an hour. After his shower yesterday he’d lain naked on a bed far too large for one person, and stared at the ceiling until the sun rose over the Atlantic again. Then he’d taken his first pill and picked up the phone to give Bonhoeffer hell and demand when he’d finally be able to see Anouk Lamar. Now it was shortly after half past eight nautical time (on the westward transatlantic route the clocks were put back by an hour every night); in total he’d had to wait three hours before Dr Beck came to fetch him from his cabin.
‘Are you referring to the captain? Why he’s not accompanying us?’ She walked half a pace ahead of him, her blond plait bobbing from shoulder to shoulder, and the soles of her sneakers squeaking. Under her left arm was a clipboard and her officer’s hat.
‘He’s got an officers’ meeting in the planetarium and so asked me to fill in for him. He has a lot on his plate.’
Martin giggled. ‘I can well imagine. A child abduction like this can keep you awake at night, can’t it?’
She stopped and shook her head. ‘Listen, I don’t know what’s gone on between you and the captain in the past, but I can say one thing for certain: Daniel Bonhoeffer is a level-headed man of integrity. All of us have nothing but the girl’s best interests at heart, and this whole affair is just as unpleasant for him as it is for me.’
‘Sure, sure.’ Martin laughed disparagingly.
And chickens die of tooth decay.
They passed several doors on both sides of the corridor, some of which were open, allowing Martin a glimpse inside the crew cabins. Rudimentary cells with open cupboards and bunk beds like in a railway couchette car. Only narrower.
Before they’d descended into the cruise underworld, the doctor had told him that they would be passing the staff area of the first lower deck, reserved for the higher-ranking employees in the ship’s hierarchy. Chambermaids, bartenders, waiters and other service personnel. Further below, decks B and C were home to the crew members who worked in the kitchens, laundry, desalination unit or machine room. People who would never come face to face with a paying guest.
Supposedly the staff area was more comfortable than the crew area, but even on deck A Martin felt as if he were walking along a prison cell block. Behind the closed doors he could hear both male and female laughter; someone yelled something in a language he didn’t understand, and in the cabin they were just passing two men in boxer shorts were playing cards and listening to rap music.
When the half-naked men caught sight of the tall, slim doctor they stuck out their tongues and made panting noises. One of them grabbed the front of his pants.
‘Hey, Doc, fancy examining what I’ve got in my hand?’ he called out in English.
‘If you can hold it in one hand I’m not interested,’ she retorted, earning roars of laughter.
They turned into a slightly wider corridor, where a number of carts and serving trolleys were parked.
‘This is Broadway,’ she announced, pointing to an American road sign painted on the floor. ‘All the thoroughfares on the lower decks are named after the streets of Manhattan.’
‘That makes it easier to find your way around?’
‘Pretty much. At the moment we’re heading uptown towards Times Square, the entertainment hub for employees, where they play table tennis and gamble on fruit machines. If you get lost you just have to go back to Park Avenue – the one we just came down – and from there to Grand Central Station, which is where we entered this area.’
‘Idiot-proof,’ Martin said sarcastically. ‘Even a child could find their way out after a couple of months here, eh?’
Elena Beck stopped again. Her expression had darkened, although evidently this was not due to him, but to the circumstances that had brought them down here. She looked around to see if anyone was listening, then said quietly, ‘I feel the same way as you do: rather uneasy about the whole thing.’
‘Oh, really? So why didn’t you notify the police straight away?’
‘Because that would have meant putting the girl’s life in danger,’ Elena said cryptically.
‘How do you mean?’
‘The captain’s being bl—’ she started, but then shook her head.
‘Blackmailed?’
‘Just forget it. I can’t talk about it. Besides, you’re from the police, aren’t you?’
Yes, correct.
But here his ID was about as useful as the sheriff’s badge he’d given Timmy for his fifth birthday.
‘By the way, the captain asks you not to take any photos or videos,’ the doctor said. ‘You’d best keep your phone in your pocket.’
‘I imagine you’re not going to like hearing this,’ Martin replied, ‘but your secrecy is pretty pointless. Too many people already know about the girl’s existence. Frau Dobkowitz may not be the most trustworthy source. But the chambermaid…’
‘Shahla?’ Dr Beck shook her head. ‘She won’t talk.’
‘Why not?’
‘That woman slogs away eighty hours a week for five hundred dollars a month, two thirds of which goes straight to her family in Karachi.’
‘You’re saying the cruise company has threatened to sack her?’
Elena shook her head again. ‘Quite the opposite. They’ve tripled her salary on the condition that she brings Anouk food three times a day and cleans her room. She’ll only be dismissed if she says anything to anyone, but with the prospect of fifteen hundred dollars for just one month’s work I bet she’d sooner lie in an ironing press than talk.’
‘What about you?’ Martin said wearily. ‘How are they putting you under pressure?’
The doctor raised her hand and wiggled her finger. The engagement ring was simple, but tasteful: white gold with a small inset diamond.
‘Daniel and I are getting married in December.’
Well, well. She’s in bed with the enemy.
‘Congratulations,’ Martin said sarcastically. In spite of the circumstances that had brought them together, he actually liked the doctor. ‘And so you’re doing everything your future husband asks of you?’
‘I’m doing everything I can to help him.’
‘Including kidnapping?’
She opened her mouth, but then decided against responding to this comment, partly because a very young member of staff was walking past at that moment. The chambermaid, with her dyed mop of black hair, made room for them by darting behind her cleaning trolley, which she could only just peek above.
Martin wondered whether a stuffy liner such as the Sultan tolerated piercings, or whether this employee staring shamefully at the floor had to remove her nose stud before going up to the passenger decks.
After going on for a while in silence, he and Dr Beck finally stopped by a door. They’d taken lots of turnings and Martin had lost his sense of direction.
‘Where are we now?’ he asked.
In most of the corridors they’d bumped into people from a variety of countries in their work gear. But since they’d passed the staff canteen, where he’d mainly seen Asians at the buffet, they hadn’t met a soul.
‘There are three areas on a cruise ship,’ Elena explained. ‘One for the passengers, one for the staff and crew. And a third area, which nobody from either of these groups would ever enter voluntarily.’
She took her key card from the back pocket of her uniform trousers and pulled it through the reader by the lift door.
‘We call this no-go area “Hell’s Kitchen”. It’s where we put Anouk.’