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“What a charming young lady, Angus,” said Ross as he followed the steward to his compartment. “She was about to tell me why she travels so frequently on this train.”
“I’m sure I don’t know, sir.”
“I’m sure you do, Angus, because there’s nothing you don’t know about The Night Scotsman.”
“Well, let’s just say she’s very popular with some of our regulars.”
“Are you suggesting…?”
“Aye, sir. She travels up and down two or three times a week. Very discreet and—”
“Angus! We’re running The Night Scotsman, not a nightclub.”
“We’ve all got to make a living, sir, and if things go well for Kitty, everybody benefits.”
Ross burst out laughing. “Do any of the other directors know about Kitty?”
“One or two. She gives them a special rate.”
“Behave yourself, Angus.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“Now, back to your day job. I want to see the bookings for all the first-class passengers. There may be someone on the train I’d like to have dinner with.”
“Of course, sir.” Angus removed a sheet of paper from his clipboard and handed it to Buchanan. “I’ve kept your usual table free for dinner.”
Ross ran his finger down the list, to discover that Mr. D. Martinez was in coach No. 4. “I’d like to have a word with Kitty,” he said as he passed the list back to Angus. “And without anyone else finding out.”
“Discretion is my middle name,” said Angus, suppressing a smile.
“It’s not what you think it is.”
“It never is, sir.”
“And I want you to allocate my table in the dining car to Mr. Martinez, who has a compartment in coach four.”
“Aye, sir,” said Angus, now completely baffled.
“I’ll keep your little secret, Angus, if you keep mine.”
“I would, sir, if I had any idea what yours was.”
“You will by the time we reach London.”
“I’ll go and fetch Kitty, sir.”
Ross tried to marshal his thoughts as he waited for Kitty to join him. What he had in mind was nothing more than a stalling tactic, but it might just give him enough time to come up with something more effective. The door of his compartment slid open, and Kitty slipped in.
“How nice to see you again, Mr. Buchanan,” she said as she took the seat opposite him and crossed her legs to reveal the top of her stockings. “Can I be of service?”
“I hope so,” said Ross. “How much do you charge?”
“Rather depends on what you’re looking for.” Ross told her exactly what he was looking for.
“That’ll be five pounds, sir, all in.”
Ross took out his wallet, extracted a five-pound note and handed it across to her.
