“Unfortunately he can. While I was ashore with Kuvetli this afternoon, another passenger came aboard.”
“The little man who smells? Mavrodopoulos? But.…”
“His real name is Banat and he is the professional killer who shot at me in Istanbul.”
“But how do you know?” she demanded breathlessly.
“He was at Le Jockey Cabaret watching me. He had followed me there to see that I was out of the way before he broke into my room at the hotel. It was dark in the room when he shot at me, but the police showed me his photograph later and I identified him.”
She was silent for a moment. Then she said slowly: “It is not very nice. That little man is a dirty type.”
“No, it is not very nice.”
“You must go to the Captain.”
“Thanks. I’ve tried to see the Captain once. I got as far as the Purser. He thinks I’m either crazy, drunk, or lying.”
“What are you going to do?”