‘The one they give you for when someone asks stupid questions.’

Dr Beck failed in her attempt to laugh. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ she said indignantly.

‘About child abduction, for example. About covering up crimes, aiding and abetting, maybe even complicity. In any case I’m talking about you being struck off if it comes out that, in contravention of every ethical principle of your profession, you kept a young girl in custody against her will.’

It was obvious that each one of his words was like a slap in her face. Elena’s pale cheeks grew redder by the second. By contrast, Martin became ever calmer in the comfortable patients’ chair.

‘Come on,’ he said, crossing his legs. ‘I’ve checked in using my real name. The captain knows me. The alarm bells must have been ringing ever since the booking system spat out my name yesterday evening.’

He pointed to a telephone on an impeccably tidy desk. ‘Call him.’

The doctor fiddled nervously with her earlobe. Twiddled a pearl ear stud as if it were the volume control for her inner voice that ought to be telling her what to do now.

She sighed.

Without taking her eyes off Martin she removed a mobile from the belt pocket of her uniform.

She pressed a button on the keypad and held the phone to her ear. Martin could hear beeping. It was answered after three rings.

Dr Elena Beck said just two words: ‘He’s here.’

Then she handed over the phone.

14

‘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.’