The Passenger Read Online Free PDF Page A

drifted through the air, and the smell of gunpowder mixed with the aroma of the foodstuffs.
    â€˜Shall I put a bullet in him, just to make sure?’ asked Falk.
    â€˜We were supposed to be ensuring their safe passage to Brest. I can’t help feeling that your suggestion is contrary to the spirit of our orders.’
    â€˜What if he’s trying to lure us closer?’
    â€˜I don’t think so, Falk. If I’m not mistaken he’s losing a large amount of blood from a hole in his head.’
    â€˜I can’t see it from here.’
    â€˜I can.’
    Lorenz climbed out of the bunk and proceeded toward the bow. ‘Herr Professor Grimstad?’ When he entered the torpedo room he saw the old man sitting on his blanket and leaning over to one side. Lorenz crouched beside him and examined the upper part of his body. The entry point of the bullet was clearly visible and the old man’s coat had started to stain. He had been shot through the heart.
    â€˜What a mess,’ said Falk. The torpedo tube doors and the surrounding pipes had been sprayed with blood. ‘It’s a miracle he didn’t cause any damage.’ Men were gathering around the entrance: Juhl, Graf, Richter, and the two torpedo mechanics—Kruger and Dressel. ‘Keep back,’ said Lorenz. He crawled over to Sutherland, who was lying with his face pressed against the linoleum. The back of his skull had been blown away, revealing a glistening, wet, grey-pink interior. Around the rim of the hole were shards of jagged, broken bone. When Lorenz rolled the dead officer overhe discovered that the man’s eyes were still open and curiously bright. Lumps of matter that had stuck to the overhead began to drop. Something landed on Lorenz’s hand, and when he brushed it off it left a brown trail. He wiped the slimy residue on his trousers and suppressed the urge to retch.
    The dead man was still gripping his weapon. Lorenz pointed it out to Falk and said, ‘A Walther PPK: favored by the SS and party officials.’
    â€˜How on earth did he get hold of that?’
    Lorenz stood up. ‘There was either a double agent on board the cargo ship or Obersturmbannführer Friedrich made a gross error of judgment concerning his estimation of Commander Sutherland’s dexterity.’ More pieces of brain tissue fell from the overhead and splattered at their feet. Falk looked up and his face shriveled with disgust. ‘They won’t be persuaded to part with their secrets now, will they?’ Lorenz added as he looked from one corpse to the other.
    â€˜The SS isn’t going to be very happy, Kaleun.’
    â€˜You have a real gift for understatement, Falk.’
    â€˜Well, as long as they don’t try to blame us for their own incompetence.’
    â€˜Yes, God forbid. Lucky there’s no chance of that happening.’
    â€˜They can’t— can they ? What about the evidence, the PPK?’
    â€˜Are you pretending to be naïve for my amusement, Falk?’
    The first watch officer stiffened. ‘No, Herr Kaleun.’
    â€˜Good,’ said Lorenz, ‘because I’m not laughing.’
    Lorenz left the torpedo room shouting orders. ‘Someone get this place cleaned up. And Ziegler . . . where are you, Ziegler?’
    With the radio man’s assistance Lorenz sent a message to U-boat headquarters explaining what had occurred. He then retired to his nook and made an entry in his log. It did not take very long for the command center to respond and their communication was remarkably succinct: BURY PRISONERS AT SEA. RESUME PATROL. PROCEED AT ONCE AND AT FULL SPEED TO GRID AK 21.
    As soon as the order was announced the boat became subdued. Fantasies were reluctantly relinquished, imaginary jazz bands fell silent, and spectral girls retreated into darkness. The Casino Bar, with its promise of sensual delights and sweet champagne, was reconsigned to memory. Lorenz detected a subtle