‘Apparently he fell off the train and,’ Pavlik waved toward the python in front of us, ‘was attacked by a snake.’
It was true as far as it went, but it didn’t fool Boyce, who had begun to circle the body. ‘A snake carrying a knife?’
Pavlik’s eyes narrowed, as if he was appraising Boyce. ‘Time on the job?’
‘Military police, two hitches, one tour in Iraq.’
I didn’t quite see why it took a specialized background to notice a knife in a man’s back, but I’d grown accustomed to the fact that people who’ve served in the military or law enforcement seem able to recognize each other. Pavlik had explained it to me as an awareness, displayed by a way of carrying oneself and cold calmness in being ready for anything.
My opinion? This was a big anything.
‘That’s a python – African rock, I think,’ Markus said, coming to join us on the opposite bank. ‘Did he explode?’
‘She,’ Hertel corrected. ‘But “explode” is a fair description. Full of eggs, I might add.’
Since Markus seemed to know something about pythons, I was hoping he was willing to share the facts, sans Engineer Hertel’s colorful embroidery. ‘Can those eggs hatch?’
‘You mean right this second?’ Markus pursed his lips, squatting down to get a better view of the snake. ‘The female would need to lay them first and then coil her own body into a nest to keep them warm.’
‘Doesn’t look like that’ll happen,’ Boyce said.
‘A good thing, too,’ Hertel said. ‘You don’t want to be around a Mama Python protecting her eggs, ’specially if you and me are right and this is one of those African rock jobbies.’
‘Bigger and meaner,’ Markus concurred. ‘Do you think Potter was protecting himself with the knife and somehow got it in the back during the struggle?’
For a second I thought Pavlik might go along with the theory for expediency, but then he seemed to reconsider. ‘Pretty unlikely, I’d say. He—’
‘What in the world are you all doing out here?’ Zoe Scarlett had rounded the locomotive and come up behind the engineer and Boyce. She stopped short and Missy, following on her boss’s heels, nearly rear-ended her.
Then both of them looked down at Laurence Potter.
‘Oh, dear,’ Missy Hudson, the mistress of understatement said. ‘Is he …?’
‘Dead,’ Hertel said, flatly. ‘Stabbed and squeezed, then swallered and ree-gurgi-tated for good measure.’
Missy turned green, but it was Zoe who fainted dead away.
EIGHTEEN
I registered a benefit of the train having already reversed on the tracks so it now pointed east and back toward the station in Fort Lauderdale: the sleeping car, where Pavlik wanted to stash Larry Potter’s body, was the closest one to us.
Leaving Missy, Markus and the recovering Zoe to continue on to the club car entrance at the rear of the train, Pavlik and Boyce had carried Potter’s body to the exit where I’d found the matchbook. They stood waiting while I slid open the door.
‘You may just have to count to three and sling ’im up there,’ Hertel said from behind them. ‘This train doesn’t have no steps to pull down, because the station’s got high platforms and that’s the only place people will get on and off.’
We all looked down at Potter. Pavlik had hold of the reviewer under his arms and Boyce had hold of the feet. I couldn’t see how they were going to “sling” him – one-two-three, heave! – and have him land inside the train as opposed to splattered up against it.
‘Fireman’s carry is the best,’ Boyce said, setting down his end. ‘I’ll get him.’
‘You sure?’ Pavlik asked. ‘We can—’
‘Yup.’ Boyce leaned over, wrapped his arms around Potter’s waist and levered him up onto his shoulder. ‘Gotta keep in shape.’
Straightening up, the coffee man swung himself and his burden up and into the train, seemingly effortlessly.
‘Your tongue is hanging out,’ Pavlik growled to me. ‘Put it back where it belongs and climb in.’
‘Yessir,’ I said, swinging myself up ahead of him. Zoe’s swoon at the sight of Potter’s body, while understandable, had made me feel absolutely plucky by comparison.
‘Don’t you want a … pristine room?’ I asked, as Pavlik slid past me to open the first door on the left for Boyce, who was waiting patiently. ‘This is where you – and Potter, if my theory is right – were earlier.’
‘Which makes it the perfect place now,’ Pavlik said. ‘Any evidence was already trampled over during our little play and this way we don’t chance contaminating another possible scene.’