Murder on the Orient Espresso(34)

The sounds of a crowd and sliding doors opening and closing were getting closer.

‘Can I hope those are the frenzied villagers, coming to burn you at the stake?’ I asked pleasantly.

‘Merely to solve my heinous – or not so heinous, given my character’s own crime – murder.’ Pavlik lay back and repositioned the knife.

‘Is that my cake knife? You took it?’ Missy demanded, eyes narrowed.

‘Uh-uh.’ The sheriff held it up. ‘My Swiss Army knife. With the blade closed, of course.’

‘Ohhh.’ All appeared forgiven again.

‘Did you send that with the rest of your “weapons”?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t think you’d opened the UPS box.’

‘This?’ Pavlik held it up. ‘It’s more tool than weapon. I brought it with me. In my luggage, of course.’

In truth, the thing did look like some gadget you’d see on an infomercial. ‘But wait!’ I said, mimicking the medium’s pitchmen.

Missy teetered on her heels. ‘I wasn’t going anywhere.’

‘No, I meant … never mind. Does that thing have a corkscrew?’ I asked Pavlik, thinking we might snare a bottle of wine for the room on the way back to the hotel.

‘Of course not. This is a classic Swiss Army knife. Not one of those fru-fru all-in-ones.’ Pavlik closed his eyes. ‘Now get out, you two, before you blow my cover.’

‘Will do, Sheriff.’ I went to follow Missy into the corridor, but as she reached to slide the door closed behind us, I held up my hand.

I stuck my head back into the roomette. ‘By the way, did you open the window?’

‘Me?’ He opened one eye. ‘No, it was open when I came in, though I’m grateful for the warmth. Dead men don’t shiver.’

The eye closed.

‘He’s so funny,’ Missy said as we made our way down the corridor, quickly checking each roomette as we went. Behind us the participants were gathered around the door to Pavlik’s chamber. ‘And nice.’

‘He is,’ I agreed, closing the second to last door. ‘Most of the time.’

Missy stopped and looked at me, disbelieving. ‘Please don’t tell me he’s a louse, too.’

Louse. Great word, and probably fitting of the era we were supposed to be in. ‘Oh, no. Pavlik is a very honorable man.’ Which I’d found to be a problem at times. Like when he suspected yours truly of murder.

‘Well, that’s good.’ Missy stopped at the door to the last compartment. ‘This is where I left Rosemary. Shall I rap?’

Another genteel turn of phrase. ‘Probably a good idea.’

She did, using just the tips of her fingernails.

‘Huh?’ we heard from inside.

I tried the door, which slid ajar. So the thing hadn’t been locked from the inside. ‘Rosemary? We’re just checking to make sure you’re OK.’ And alone.

‘Who’s there?’

‘Missy and Maggy,’ my fellow quester said, flipping on the light.

Rosemary was on the bunk alone, arm up over her eyes. ‘Jesus, are you trying to blind me?’

‘Sorry, it’s because the Everglades are so dark. You can even see the stars at night.’ Missy leaned down to point out the window.

‘I don’t see any stars,’ Rosemary said. ‘In fact, isn’t that rain streaming down the glass?’

‘I’m afraid it is,’ Missy said, looking again. ‘Oh, dear. It’s coming down in torrents.’

Oh, dear, was right. ‘Well, we’re on the way back, at least.’

‘The train seems to be going quite slowly, though,’ Missy said worriedly. ‘I hope there’s no flooding on the tracks.’

Flooding? In the Everglades at the end of their so-called ‘wet season’? Who would have thunk it, as my son Eric would say. But then he was a smart-aleck teenager and I, his more mature parent. Or I should be. ‘Flooding? In the Everglades? Might we have foreseen that possibility?’

‘Oh, don’t be a worry-wart, Maggy,’ Missy said a little sharply, which indicated to me that she herself was worried. Or, perhaps, didn’t appreciate being criticized in front of an important client like Rosemary Darlington. ‘We’ve already had record rains this year.’

I wasn’t sure why her latest little factoid was supposed to reassure me.

Nonetheless, I kept quiet as Missy continued. ‘The Murder on the Orient Espresso is being solved as we speak and our event is a success!’

Her statement made me think. ‘But what about Poirot? Who’s playing him?’

‘Potter, of course,’ Rosemary said.

Missy and I exchanged looks. Rosemary was out of the loop when it came to his vanishing act, but I wasn’t going to be the one to fill her in if I could help it.