miniature key into its target, Simpers realised that the case was already unlocked. Puzzled for a moment, he interrogated the logical side of his brain to convince himself that he must have forgotten to lock it.
Trouble was, he knew that, as was his custom, he had checked it on three separate occasions before he'd left his flat. Who on earth would want to rummage through a case that had seen better days? He concluded that there were three scenarios worthy of consideration.
One: That he indeed was having a senior moment and had forgotten to lock the case.
Two: An opportunist thief had been trying their luck.
Three: Someone who knew he was boarding had targeted the case, and was looking for something specific.
Simpers dismissed the first scenario, since it was against his nature. He also disregarded opportunism, since the cabin number shown on the label attached to the case didn't shout 'I'm rich'. This left Simpers with the only conclusion that seemed logical. Someone was aware of his movements who didn't wish him continued good health. But what were they looking for, he thought. A cold bead of sweat emerged across his forehead as he reached for his hand luggage. Grabbing at the zip fastener, he yanked it sideways and rummaged around the bag's contents. Retrieving a buff brown folder, his stress levels began to subside.
He ruminated over recent events. Since he didn't believe in coincidences, Simpers now knew what he had already begun to suspect. One or more undesirables were onto him, and he didn't like it.
Simpers tried to forget the pain from his unequal tussle with the bulkhead door. He did what any copper worth his salt would do and retraced in his mind every second of what happened below decks with the Deputy Captain. Could the officer have activated the door on the control panel? After all, Simpers had seen him disappear around the corner to take that radio call. Then again, he wouldn't have heard the man return because of the noise from the door moving – and his own howls of pain. But if not Cross, then who? And how did the man appear from nowhere, then disappear into thin air? To complicate matters, Cross had explained that the Bridge could work those doors by remote control. But how could they have known to activate the one he just happened to be stuck in. Simpers concluded that for the moment, there were too many imponderables. He knew he would have to distil the facts, then identify something that didn't fit. This, he knew from experience, would lead him to the answer. Simpers also knew from long experience that that answer would have unpleasant consequences. These would not confine themselves to the criminal class. Military folk, he mused, liked to call it 'collateral damage'. He called it misery.
***
Clothes stored in their allotted positions, Simpers explored his cabin. He pulled out a drawer, then opened a cupboard door. His admiration for the designers growing with each new discovery. How did they cram so much into such a small place, he pondered.
Feeling what he thought was the sensation of the ship moving, his automatic response was to head to the bathroom. He thought, better safe than sorry. After a few minutes and having taken the necessary steps to relieve his bowels, he reached for the flush handle to dispatch the product of his exertions. Simpers found it puzzling not to find the handle where he had expected it to be. Perhaps, he thought, those clever designers had moved the position of the flush. At last he triumphed, despite almost pulling his arm out of its socket as, still seated, he reached behind the toilet lid.
Ha, ha! he thought. Found it. Simpers pressed the button in triumph. In an instant, his world went hazy. In his pain, surprise and confusion, he was aware of an dreadful sound such as he had never heard before. He felt sucked into the sort of black hole that astronomers talk about. He reached down to his nether regions, convinced they were gone from his body. He now knew, he