Chapters (88)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Contents
- Prologue
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- About this book and thanks
- Epilogue
- About the author
- About the translator
- An Invitation from the Publisher
After selling all his cars, his house and closing his bank accounts (Tayo had earned very well, not least through sponsorship agreements) he had enough money to pay back the mafia a good third of what they’d lost. Or to abscond with four million dollars.
Opting for the latter, Tayo had checked in on the Sultan.
‘It’s time we started calling him by his new name,’ the surgeon said. Yegor nodded, albeit reluctantly. Of all the suggestions on the list, why did their client have to plump for the name Sandy?
Sandy? Yegor didn’t even know whether men in the US were called Sandy. But what business of his was this man’s life? Or to put it more precisely: what did he care about his new life?
His work was over. He’d got Martin Schwartz on board and ensured that the crisis was averted. What happened to the girl didn’t concern him. Yegor had never been interested in solving the case and, in all honesty, he’d never expected that damaged detective to actually bring anything valuable to light. Schwartz was supposed to act as a scapegoat. Either he or Bonhoeffer, that clueless idiot who still hadn’t fathomed what was really going on aboard his ship. The captain continued to believe that it was all about salvaging a deal with a Chilean investor, but Yegor had never intended to sell his ship. Vincente Rojas and his useless lawyers were only on board the Sultan to fuel the rumours on the stock market of a takeover and send the share price soaring.
‘It’s infuriating.’ The doctor’s ranting snatched Yegor from his thoughts. The surgeon was bashing the table, causing the monitor to wobble.
‘Oh, shut up!’ Yegor ordered, even though Gerlinde couldn’t possibly hear them. Although she was only ten metres away, the rooms of the in-between deck were completely soundproofed.
In principle, however, he could understand Konradin’s outburst. It was desperate.
Having spared no effort, they’d managed to stop their business being exposed at the last minute, but now this old bag was creating problems for them again. Was she going to prevent their client from being unloaded?