The man smiled in a way that turned my stomach.
“Well, sir,” he said, standing up. “It was nice meeting you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your cruise.”
“You too,” I replied.
He walked directly to the row of public phones near the entrance. Carl stood up from his table and casually moved toward that area, pretending to be interested in a different game.
Fifteen minutes later, Carl came back to the cabin with urgency in his eyes.
“Robert, we need to talk, right now,” he said, locking the door behind him.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I followed him,” Carl said. “He went straight to the phones, dialed a number, and I couldn’t hear everything, but I clearly heard this: ‘Yes, he’s in 847, Deck 8, with a balcony. He says he’s afraid of going near the railings. Perfect for what we need.’”
My legs felt weak. I sat down heavily.
“Are you sure, Carl?” I asked, even though I knew he was.
“Absolutely,” he said. “That man is working with Michael. Now he knows exactly where to find you and how to make it look like an accident.”
“What do we do now?” I asked. “If Michael has someone here and that someone knows my habits, I’m in serious danger.”
“We get ahead of them,” Carl said firmly. “You are not setting foot in your cabin again for the rest of this trip. You’ll stay here with me where you’re safe. And more importantly, we’ll set a trap of our own.”
“What kind of trap?” I asked.
“Tomorrow night is the captain’s gala,” Carl said. “Everyone will be in the main hall—music, speeches, late hours. If someone wanted to slip away and ‘take care’ of something, that would be the perfect night to do it.”
“Carl, I won’t use my life as bait,” I protested.
“You won’t,” he said. “But we’ll make them think you are. We’ll tell the right people. We’ll have eyes on that cabin from every angle. We’ll make sure that whoever Michael hired walks right into a cage.”
That afternoon, my phone rang again. Michael.
“Hey, Dad,” he said, sounding cheerful. “How are you? Enjoying the cruise?”
“Very much,” I said. “Every day is a new adventure.”
“You’re still sleeping okay in your cabin?” he asked casually. “No problems with noise or anything?”
A very specific question—he wanted to know if I was still using the room where his man would be waiting.
“No, son,” I said. “I sleep perfectly. The cabin is very quiet.”
“That’s good, Dad. Tomorrow’s Thursday, right? Do you have any special plans?”
“I think tomorrow is the captain’s gala party,” I said. “It’s supposed to be very elegant.”
“Oh yes,” he said. “Those parties are great. Are you going?”
“Of course,” I replied. “I already have my green suit ready.”
“Perfect, Dad. Enjoy it,” he said. “What time do those parties usually end?”
Another specific question. He was building a schedule in his mind.
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “Probably late. After midnight.”
“Well,” he continued, “when it’s over, go straight to your cabin to rest, okay? Don’t walk around the decks at night. It can be dangerous.”
Carl stared at me, his face tight. Michael had just given instructions, unintentionally outlining the exact moment when he expected his plan to unfold.
“Don’t worry, son,” I said. “I’ll go straight to my room when the party’s over.”
“Perfect, Dad,” Michael answered. “I love you very much. Sleep well.”
When I hung up, Carl and I stood there, listening to the hum of the ship around us.
“That call,” Carl said, “confirms everything. Michael knows exactly when his friend plans to strike. He’s probably told him that tomorrow night, after the gala, you’ll be alone in your cabin.”
“Carl, I’m scared,” I admitted. “This plan is too real now. Too close.”
