Murder on the Orient Espresso(47)

‘I think we’ll position you in here for now,’ he called back to Boyce, who was still in the vestibule talking with Engineer Hertel.

The two men joined us. ‘I assume people can use the restroom here in the passenger car?’ Boyce asked.

‘Yes, but nobody goes through the vestibule into the sleeping car.’ Pavlik nodded toward the door that had just closed behind the engineer. ‘I’ll see if I can find you a chair so you can sit with your back up against the door to the vestibule, facing into the rest of the passenger car.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Boyce said, taking up the position. This time even I could see the military in his bearing. I felt, rather than saw, his hand itching to rise in a salute.

Guard stationed, Pavlik, Hertel and I paused. I could hear the buzz of speculation coming from the rows of seats beyond the restroom.

‘After we settle down the passengers,’ Pavlik told the engineer, ‘you and I will go to the locomotive, where we’ll call the authorities. You’d have a better idea than I do which jurisdic—’

But Hertel was shaking his head. ‘Sorry, but as I told your girl here,’ he hooked a thumb back to me, ‘we’re purely in-commun-i-cado out here.’

‘What do you use?’ Pavlik asked. ‘Radio?’

‘Well, now, this being a new line and our being a little off the grid, official-wise, I have this.’ He held up a cell phone, and not even a very smart one.

I was still trying to translate ‘off the grid, official-wise’ to plain English. ‘What exactly—’

We were interrupted by Missy, who had added the wringing of hands to her repertoire. ‘We’re doing our best, but people are getting very impatient for answers. We … we haven’t told Audra.’ Missy’s voice broke. I could see tears.

Pavlik squeezed her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry – this shouldn’t all fall back on you.’

‘He’s just wonderful,’ she whispered to me as Pavlik strode to the front of the car.

While I couldn’t echo the worshipful tone, I did the sentiment.

‘Excuse me,’ Pavlik said, standing in the aisle at the front of the car. Zoe was seated in the first window seat, twisted around to Markus behind her. I wondered how much help either had been to Missy in keeping a lid on things.

At least they’d herded the group as instructed into the passenger car. There were just a few seats to spare, including the one next to Zoe. I took it, feeling charitable. ‘How are you?’

‘Better,’ she said, looking surprised that I’d asked. ‘Though I’m not sure why. We’re in a terrible fix.’

‘What’s happened?’ Prudence called from a few rows back. She was sitting next to Rosemary Darlington. ‘Why have we stopped?’

‘According to our engineer,’ Pavlik pointed at Hertel, but didn’t give him an opportunity to speak, ‘a portion of the railroad bed has been washed away by the storm, temporarily stranding us here.’

‘Isn’t Jacob going to tell them about Larry?’ Zoe whispered to me.

‘Got me,’ I said. ‘All I know is that we shouldn’t.’

‘Where is he? I mean … Larry?’

‘In the sleeping room where the “crime” was solved.’ I used my index fingers to fashion air quotes.

‘But what happens if someone goes in there to lie down or something?’ Zoe persisted. ‘Or he starts to smell?’

I was afraid that ship had sailed, but didn’t see how my answer could give her any comfort. ‘Don’t worry. Pavlik will handle it.’

Zoe was looking at me quizzically. ‘Why do you do that?’

‘Do what?’

‘Call Jacob by his last name?’

‘I don’t know,’ I snapped, charity out the window. ‘Why do you call him “Jacob”?’

Zoe shrugged. ‘He was listed as “Jacob Pavlik” the first time he spoke here. I was in charge of the nametags and program materials and I guess it just … stuck.’

It could be the truth, I supposed. Zoe was looking for an explanation in return, so I obliged. ‘He suspected me of murder. Believe me, “Pavlik” was the nicest thing I called him.’

Zoe’s eyes flew open and she managed a weak, ‘Oh.’

‘So,’ I said brightly. ‘How long have you known Larry?’

‘I, uh … about five years, perhaps?’ She was edging away from me as best she could, given the constraints of the side-by-side seats.

‘You needn’t worry about me,’ I told her, feeling a little hurt. ‘I didn’t commit the crime then and I certainly didn’t have any reason to kill Potter now. But somebody must have.’