Day Four (27 page)

The doctor wiped a hand over his mouth and approached Devi. ‘Listen . . . we have another issue.’

Devi waited for him to continue.

‘The patient who attacked the steward. He left the medical bay without being discharged.’

‘When?’

‘Some time this morning.’

‘Doctor, in your opinion . . . Could he be the same man who killed the girl?’

The doctor’s eyes widened, and Devi swore inwardly. Ram would be furious if he found out Devi was spreading rumours that there was a predator on board. But Devi found he no longer cared. ‘So now you definitely think she was murdered?’

‘We’re considering all options.’

‘Jissus.’

‘I checked that, Devi,’ Pran said, still picking at his moustache. ‘I spoke to the passenger’s wife. She said he was with her all night.’

‘Did Ram ask you to do that?’

Pran looked at his feet. ‘No, sir. The passenger did, after all, attack the steward, so it seemed like a logical question to ask.’

Perhaps Pran wasn’t so useless after all. ‘Good work. Good thinking.’ But people had been known to lie to protect their loved ones. ‘Did you believe her?’

Pran shrugged. ‘I think she was telling the truth. She seemed to think that her husband was the victim in all of this.’

Devi considered this, then turned back to the doctor. ‘I will see if I can locate the passenger, doctor. Can you describe him?’

‘His name is Gary Johansson. Forty or so. White. Slightly overweight. Thinning hair.’

That description could fit seventy per cent of the male passengers on board, but it was also not dissimilar to the man he had seen on the footage.

The doctor thanked Devi again, and headed back towards the stairwell.

‘What are your orders now, Pran?’

‘I was supposed to be off now, sir, but Madan . . .’

‘Madan?’

‘He did not come and relieve me.’

‘He is sick?’

‘No . . . the last time I saw him he was in the bar.’

‘I will go and talk to him. Stay in the surveillance room until I get there.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good man.’

And, Devi thought, he could also get Pran to look at the footage of the morning of the attack. The image of the girl’s stalker wasn’t clear, but it was possible that Pran might pick out a characteristic that would confirm or exonerate the patient who had absconded from the medical bay.

Devi made his way up towards the crew bar. As usual, the interior was a haze of vaporiser smoke. One of the assistant waiters was lying slumped next to the foosball machine. Casino workers and Steiners – the women who staffed the spa – were gathered around the tables, talking furtively. And over in the corner, sitting alone, was Madan, a tower of empty Heineken cans piled around him.

He waved Devi over. ‘Devi. Devi. Have a drink.’

‘You know I don’t drink, Madan.’

‘First time for everything, my man.’

‘Pran says you were supposed to relieve him.’

‘Get Ashgar to do it.’

‘Ashgar is sick.’

‘So am I. Been on eighteen hours. Need a break.’

‘If Ram sees you here, you will be disciplined.’ No, he would be fired.

Madan laughed. ‘No he won’t. I’m his right-hand man. You know that. We have a history.’ Devi hadn’t known that. ‘And anyway, he is with the captain. He is always with the captain. You haven’t noticed? Our beloved and dutiful’ – Madan leaned over to spit on the floor – ‘captain is paranoid that the passengers will mutiny and overrun the kitchens and crew quarters. Let them. It is shit down here. And why would they come here? What could they do?’

‘They just want answers.’

‘There are no answers. I have to get off this ship, Devi. This is a bad boat. It’s sick.’

‘They sent the tender boat out. Someone will come soon.’

Madan burped. ‘You are so naïve, Devi. I like that about you. It’s good to be like that. Me, I’m not like that. I’m . . . I’m not like that. You’re a good person. You have honour, an honourable man.’ He belched again, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘I’m not going back to my post. Fuck that. You think we’re going to get overtime for this mess? Fuck that, Devi. The captain has fucked up, got us lost. We could be anywhere.’

‘The Gulf of Mexico isn’t that big—’

‘But you can get swept into the Gulf Stream, Devi, all the way along, end up . . .’ he waved his hand. ‘End up fuck knows where.’

‘We don’t even seem to be drifting that far.’

‘We’ve drifted a long way, my man. We’re lost.’

‘Impossible.’

‘Like I say, we’re fucked. C’mon, have a drink with me.’

‘No. Madan, you must—’

Madan reached over to slap Devi on the shoulder, missed, and sent the pile of cans crashing to the floor. No one looked up to locate the source of the noise.

‘And there are other things going on too. You’ve seen it, Devi. You must have seen it. It isn’t right, I tell you. The ship is sick,’ he said again. Madan was not someone who Devi would have said was superstitious. If anything, he would have said he was the opposite. He rarely mentioned anything about religion or spiritual matters. He’d been on the ships longer than all of them: seven years at least, and in that time had cultivated a deeply cynical side. ‘I have to get off this ship, Devi. And I will.’

‘What did you see?’

‘It was not so much seeing as feeling. They’re all feeling it.’

The hand that covered the camera lens. The crew who were convinced the dead girl was haunting the ship. The reports from some of the Indonesian and Filipino staff about the Lady in White floating through the guts of the vessel, taunting passengers and crew alike.

There was a rational explanation for all of it. There had to be.

‘We’re fucked, Devi,’ Madan said. ‘Fucked.’ He laughed humourlessly. ‘And then there is the matter of the generator. They are saying there is no significant damage. They are saying that there is no reason for the ship’s engines not to work.’

‘So why is the ship disabled?’

Madan leaned towards him. ‘It isn’t.’

None of what Madan was saying made any sense. But whatever was happening with the generator or the ship’s power was out of his control. Finding the man who killed Kelly wasn’t.

‘Someone wants you, Devi.’ Devi turned to see Rogelio standing next to the entrance to the bar. Madan smirked and raised his eyebrows. Devi’s heart dropped. He knew. Madan knew. Too bad. There was nothing he could do about that, other than beg Madan to keep it to himself.

Devi stalked over to Rogelio before he could make a scene. He’d been hoping to avoid running into him this evening. Rogelio had cornered him that morning in one of the public areas, where anyone could have seen them, complaining that Devi hadn’t found time to meet with him last night. But how could he? He’d barely had time to return to his cabin and sleep. He did not need Rogelio’s neediness on top of this, but he only had himself to blame. Before Rogelio could speak, he ushered him into the deserted IT room. ‘I am busy, Rogelio. I’m on shift.’

‘You have time to go to the bar, but you don’t have time to see me?’

‘Rogelio. Please. I don’t need this.’

‘Why won’t you talk to me, Devi?’

‘You’ve seen what it is like out there, Rogelio. The passengers need reassurance.’

‘
I
need reassurance, Devi. What if this never ends? What if we’re stuck out here until we run out of food and . . .’ He slumped. ‘I’m sorry. I know I’m being impossible.’ He looked up through his fringe. ‘You must hate me.’

The anger that had been festering inside Devi since he found Kelly’s body surged up. ‘Rogelio, you have to understand, I have something I need to do, and I can’t have you hounding me like this.’

Rogelio flinched, and Devi prepared himself for a round of recriminations. Instead he asked: ‘What do you need to do?’

Devi hesitated, and then let it all pour out. He didn’t even try to stop it. He told him about the Merinda girl – the child who had been raped by her uncle – and how he’d allowed the family and his superiors to cover it up to save his own skin. He told him about the man he’d seen on the footage, the monster who’d followed Kelly Lewis back to her cabin. He told him about his fear that the man would get away with it, that her death would be submerged under the media storm that would ensue once they were finally rescued.

Rogelio listened, and then simply said: ‘Go. Do what you have to do.’ And then he left the room.

Devi made his way back to the surveillance office. His chest felt lighter – as if he was unburdened. Perhaps he should have confided in Rogelio from the start. Perhaps he’d underestimated him. He supposed he’d always assumed Rogelio was as shallow and empty as the entertainments he facilitated – the karaoke nights, the line-dancing, the singles’ events. Little more than a pretty face.

‘Devi.’

He looked up to see Ram standing outside the security offices, his hands clasped behind his back. ‘What are you doing away from your post, Devi?’

‘There was an incident in the storeroom next to the laundry, sir.’ Now was his chance to make Ram listen. ‘Sir. I must speak with you, sir.’

‘About what?’

‘The man who murdered Kelly Lewis.’

‘There is no murderer, Devi. I have said this many times now. The girl drank too much.’

‘Sir. I have proof. The CCTV footage—’

Ram didn’t raise his voice. ‘You are here to make sure the passengers and crew do not get out of hand. That is all. I have told you once, I will not have insubordination. Are we clear? There will be repercussions if you do not act in accordance with what I have said.’

It was futile. He could see that now. ‘Yes, sahib.’

‘Good. I hope we understand each other.’

Devi watched his superior walk away towards the bridge. But he would not give up, whatever Ram said. He could not give up.

Pran was staring at the monitors when he stepped inside the surveillance area, and Devi was certain he must have overheard their conversation. He looked up. ‘Devi . . . there is . . . look. Screen seven.’

Devi peered over Pran’s shoulder. The screen showed the corridor on Five.

And every single cabin door was wide open.

The Wildcard Blog

Fearlessly fighting the fraudulent so that you don’t have to

Jan 02

Still no helicopters, rescue boats, nada.

Big news of the day: got attacked by Celine’s bodyguard. Going to sue the shit out of The Predator and her monkey. She doesn’t know who she’s messing with. Guy just attacked, no warning, didn’t have a chance to defend myself. Face feels like it’s exploded.

Recovering in The Predator’s cabin if you can believe that shit. Going to mine Maddie for every bit of info I can get.

Captain Useless sent a tender boat out this morning and we’re all waiting for it to return with a fleet of rescue boats and helicopters. The reasons why we haven’t been rescued are obvious: captain fucked up, got us lost and we’re drifting where they don’t expect us to be (and no, not the Bermuda Triangle); OR: something even bigger has happened on land and they can’t get to us. A storm, maybe.

Maddie says I can sleep on the couch in The Predator’s suite if things carry on like this.

Can I emphasise how much my face hurts? The nurse says my nose might be broken. Didn’t bother going to Security. The cops can deal with it if we ever get the fuck home.

Here’s today’s rundown:

3 p.m. Had a nap (painkillers knocked me out).

4 p.m. Message from Damien: Predator doing another show. And there will be hotdogs available at the Lido buffet.

Went back to my cabin to get my spare battery. No sign of Paulo or Trining. Stinks down there, toilets still overflowing. Jesus. Heard a rumour there might be working bathrooms next to the spa. Went to look. Bad idea. Shit and paper boiling up out of the pan and all over the floor. Felt really sorry for the guys cleaning it up. Saw a perfectly coiled turd just sitting on the carpet outside the art gallery. WTF is wrong with people? Nearly puked.

6 p.m. Going stir crazy. Maddie not in the mood to talk. Won’t leave as she’s paranoid about getting sick. I’m heading out for a while.

10 p.m. Just got back to The Predator’s cabin.

After I left here, I joined the singles group camped out in mini-golf land. People have now really formed into solid little groups. There’s the bible group who pray all the time; the stoner group who smoke pot all the time; the Tranquillity group who stop people from entering their territory all the time. You get the idea. The singles group isn’t too bad – at least they really look out for each other. Donna and Emma (the friend of the girl who died) have made sure they take turns to go for food and water runs.