Murder on the Orient Espresso(78)

I cleared my throat, trying to choose my words carefully. If I played it straight – treated Missy like a co-investigator rather than the killer I feared she was – maybe she’d let her guard down. ‘So Potter wasn’t on the train when you and I went to check on Rosemary. Can you be sure of that?’

‘Yes, but it’s a long story,’ Missy said, waggling the gun toward the door of the train. ‘Would you mind if I sat down? These heels are killing me.’

I felt myself relax a bit, thinking my half-baked plan might be working. Or maybe, even, that I was wrong in my suspicions. ‘Be my guest.’

Missy, casual as could be, handed me her gun, grabbed the rail and pulled herself up, settling on the floor of the doorway through which Boyce had carried Laurence Potter’s body.

‘I hate to get this dress dirty,’ Potter’s lover said, tugging it down, ‘but I’ll have it thoroughly cleaned before I donate it back to the Salvation Army.’

‘Good idea.’ I was looking at the gun in my hand, trying to put together what the hell was going on.

‘So, shall I continue?’ Missy was swinging her legs like a first-grader on a jungle gym.

‘Please.’

‘As you know, I took Rosemary to the sleeping car and settled her in. As I started back, do you know what I saw?’

‘No.’

‘The piece of cake you stepped on, along with my staghorn knife. Both on the floor. Can you believe that?’

‘No.’ I figured the shorter my responses, the less likely I’d screw up.

‘I was so angry somebody had not only cut a piece of cake without asking, but then dropped it right there and didn’t even bother to pick it up. How would that look when Sheriff Pav— I mean, Jake, was pretending to be Ratchett?’ Missy looked like she was going to cry again. ‘And that’s not even counting that the knife was supposed to be the murder weapon!’

‘Inexcusable.’

‘Exactly what I thought. I picked up the knife so nobody would step on it and opened the door to check on the room. Imagine my surprise to find Laurence there. Not only had he filched the cake – unsuccessfully, I might add – but he was smoking.’

‘Smoking?’

‘Yes, and we all know that’s not allowed on the train. We could even be fined for it.’

‘Gosh.’ Even if I had wanted to say something stronger I wasn’t sure what it would be.

‘The window was open and the air conditioning was woofing right out into the Everglades. Cake in the hallway, and Laurence just sitting there. Do you know why?’

‘Uh, no.’

‘He said he was having a smoke.’

‘And … he wasn’t?’

Missy looked at me like I was the one who was nuts. ‘Of course he was. I just told you that.’

‘Right, sorry. So what happened next?’

‘I asked about his wife showing up. I wasn’t mad, Maggy. I just thought it was a good opportunity for us to confront her together.’

‘About …?’

Another Maggy-you-stupid-idiot look. ‘About us, of course.’

‘Do you mean he was leaving his wife?’ At least this time I didn’t add, ‘That’s what they all say.’ Just my luck, I’d been married to the only cheater who’d actually meant it.

‘As it turns out, no. But apparently Laurence was nothing but a hypocrite anyway. Writing scathing reviews of our book when you say he intended to publish one just like it. Assuring me he was leaving Audra when he clearly had no intention of doing so. Laurence said,’ Missy elongated her neck like a chicken in an imitation of Potter, ‘“your ardent desires aside, Melissa, I have no desire to make an honest woman of you.”’

Melissa. I’d corrected Potter when he’d called her that, but it hadn’t been a mistake – probably more a signal between them. Potter had made his young mistress feel special. Maybe he was the only one who ever had, despite the fact that she tried so very hard. ‘I’m sorry, Missy.’

‘Oh, Laurence didn’t stop there.’ Missy’s feet were still dangling and she was kicking her heels against the train’s side as she talked. ‘He told me I was pathetic and should just grow up. That he thought “Murder on the Orient Espresso” was a juvenile idea, and he wouldn’t be part of it.’

A five-minute conversation, and the man had managed to undercut the woman in every area of her life. ‘What did you say?’

‘I didn’t get the chance. Laurence just scooped up his cigarettes and matches, turned his back on me and stalked off.’

One of the shoes flew off with enough force that I flinched and nearly had to duck.