Bonhoeffer took a deep breath, then exhaled noisily through puckered lips. It sounded like air escaping from a shrivelled balloon. Furious, he said, ‘A farewell letter, cyberbullying as a motive, no traces of violence or any other crime in the cabin, and even though no one could survive out there for an hour without a life vest the search goes on till the following morning. What do you expect?’

‘That for once you succeed in arriving at the destination with all your passengers.’

‘I could just as easily say you ought to have taken better care of your family. Have you ever googled suicide? There are forums where half the world exchanges ideas on the most effective ways of topping yourself. And do you know what’s right up there? Exactly. Cruises. Those twenty-three passengers per year who take a leap into the blue shelf. If every depressive with internet access decides to do train drivers a favour and book a cruise rather than throw themselves on the track, then don’t fucking well blame me!’

Now worked up, he slashed one of the cards at random through the slot and happened to get the right one. There was a click and a green light flashed.

‘I’m not responsible for this insanity,’ he barked, pushing on the handle. The door sprang open and they were immediately met by an unpleasant metallic smell.

‘Nor for this either?’ Martin asked. He pointed at the floor of the cabin.

They both stared speechlessly at the man at their feet, who’d been shot in the head.

49

They bolted the door behind them and Martin ordered the captain not to move or touch a thing.

The body was sitting on the floor, with legs outstretched and back leaning up against an unmade single bed. The head was bent at the neck and the lifeless eyes were staring up at the dusty cabin ceiling. In the overhead light the pillow beneath his head had a wet shimmer.

Judging by the amount of blood the exit wound must be far larger than the small hole in the forehead above the right eye.

‘Who is that?’ said Martin, who’d now switched to crime scene mode. Experience had taught him that first impressions were the most important ones. So he scanned the surroundings, paying particular attention to anything out of the ordinary.

Such as an inverted cross on a wall, a shattered mirror below a cupboard or an apartment so tidy that it reveals the criminal’s intention to be as inconspicuous as possible.

The oddities weren’t always apparent; often, clues to the circumstances surrounding the crime, motives, victims and suspects were located subtly. Like the piece of metal on the carpet by the fitted cupboard in this cabin.

Martin bent down to the hairclip. It was small, colourful and cheap. The sort of thing you might see on a doll.

Or a young girl.