Murder on the Orient Espresso(61)

‘Here where?’ I had my cheek close to the glass, a hand cupping my eyes in an effort to cut down on the glare of the interior lights so I might see into the natural gloom.

‘You spot something out there?’ Pavlik asked. ‘Maybe a gremlin on the wing?’

‘Twilight Zone, season five, Nightmare at Twenty-Thousand Feet, starring William Shatner,’ I recited, still looking out. ‘And, if you think about it, trains don’t have wings. Though current events have persuaded me that fins mightn’t be a bad idea.’

‘The rain’s coming down hard again?’

‘Not really. In fact, I can see the moon. But there sure is a lot of water out—’

A rumble beneath us sent my face crashing against the glass.





TWENTY-SIX





‘Are you all right, Maggy?’

‘I think so.’ Trying to sit up, I groaned. Apparently when the train shifted, I’d slammed my head and then shunted onto the floor beneath our table.

Pavlik, crouched in the aisle, extended his hand toward wending me out. Once emerged, I saw that the dining car was cockeyed, the side where we had been sitting noticeably about six inches lower than the other.

Engineer Hertel came lurching up, much like his train. ‘Sorry, folks. Seems like all that rain we’ve gotten has undercut even these tracks we’ve just been sitting on. The ballast might be washing away and I’m starting to fear we’re on the ground. Or will be soon.’

He fears we’re on the ground? Ballast? I rubbed my temple where I could feel an unsightly egg already forming. I’d been thinking about airplanes before the crash, but …

I looked around. Nope, definitely a train, not a plane. Nor a submarine. ‘I hate to ask this, but do we need to get to higher ground?’

Hertel scratched his nose. ‘Well now, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. If we had some, I mean. Not much in the way of elevation in these parts, although you might want to stay away from the lowest parts of the train so combined weight don’t go flipping us over.’

My sheriff’s head was swiveling. ‘The club car behind us looks like it’s at more of an angle than even this one. Any idea if the locomotive we’re towing beyond is still on solid ground?’

‘Well, sir,’ Hertel said, hitching his fingers behind his overall straps. ‘You gotta be careful when you’re talking with a railroad man. Being “on the ground” is our way of saying derailment.’

‘Derail …?’ I echoed. ‘Why—’

‘Because a train’s place is on the tracks, you see. Our wheels touch the ground and we’re in real trouble.’

Ahh, now his earlier statement made sense. ‘You said you feared we might be “on the ground.” So you do think the train’s derailed?’

‘Not a clue, pardon my pun around you folks. Like I said, the ballast – that’s the rocks in the train bed – might not be laid down proper. If that’s so, there could be more problems coming.’

More problems?

Pavlik seemed to think about that. ‘Is there anything we can do to head them off? I’m just thinking that if something as heavy as our rear locomotive tipped, it might be putting extra strain on the rest of the cars.’

I thought I saw what he was getting at. ‘You mean like a Slinky, with the locomotive being the first coil starting down the stairs and the rest of us following?’

‘Well, now.’ Hertel pulled on his left earlobe as he considered that. ‘I’d say it depends on how much of the track is washed away. I hate to speculate, you understand, but I’m startin’ to wonder if, when they were running out of money, a few corners mightn’t have been cut.’

‘You mean a few more corners, right?’ I asked. ‘In addition to our not having a conductor?’

‘Aw. Little lady, we don’t need no conductor. All’s they do is boss everybody around. Those FRA guys just want to provide work. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.’

‘FRA – Federal Railroad Administration?’ Pavlik looked at me. ‘I assume you spoke to Zoe or Missy about the train staffing?’

‘Missy,’ I confirmed. ‘Somehow she managed to slide by the authorities – whatever they are for an “off-the-grid” operation like this – with a fictional conductor-backslash-bartender.’

‘Well, now, that’s not fair,’ Hertel protested. ‘Everything is fiction, when you think about it.’

I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the mystery train or whether we were about to take a detour into Hertel’s vision of metaphysics and the meaning of life.