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“The Brits,” he said so quietly she could only read his lips. “MI6. Please…you must get to Berlin and tell Cordell. He’ll…he’ll know what to…do…” He grasped Elena’s hand and pushed a folded piece of paper into it.
“Ian!” she said fiercely. “No! Please…” But she knew it was too late. His eyes were closed, there was blood thick on his body, and his face was ashen. There was not even a flutter of breath.
Elena held him closer, as if she could force her own strength of life into him. She knew there was no point, but she could not let go. “I will,” she whispered. “I will…I promise.”
Then she could not hold back the agony. She clung to him and sobbed uncontrollably.
CHAPTER
7
Elena kneeled on the floor, holding Ian’s body as closely as she could, unaware of time. It could have been minutes, or only seconds, before she heard the sound behind her, and even then she did not turn.
“Oh God! What happened?” A man’s voice.
She heard the compartment door shut and felt a strong grip on her shoulder. Gently, but very firmly, someone took her hands, first one, then the other, and pulled them away from Ian, then slowly and with great effort drew her to her feet.
Nearly blind with tears, she turned and saw Walter Mann. His face was white and he looked shattered, although he was more composed than she was. But then, he had not loved Ian, and she knew now that she had.
He looked her up and down, and she realized for the first time that she was covered in blood: Her hands were scarlet and blood was all down the front of her dress. Ian’s blood.
She swayed, dizzy and sick.
Walter looked past her to the body on the floor, then back at her. “What happened?” he said again, his voice scratchy, as if he could not control it.
“He’s…” She, too, found words too difficult. Her mind was numb, out of control.
“We must get out of here,” he insisted with more strength. “There’s nothing you can do to help him now, and you don’t want to get caught by the railway police. They could keep you for hours, maybe more. I suppose you don’t know who did this?”
Her thoughts were confused. “Did this? No…no…who would…?” She had no idea what else to say. Her mind would not function.
“Then they’ll blame you,” he pointed out. “You were with him. They’ll think you have to know.” He looked at her blood-soaked dress. “When the corridor’s clear, we’ll get you to the lavatory. You must wash as much of that blood off as you can. You’ll be freezing cold, I know, but no one will stop you. Take your whole dress off and put it in the basin. Get all the blood out, or as much as you possibly can. There’ll be soap in there. Then wring it out and put the dress back on. Where’s your coat?”
“What?” She was confused. What did it matter?
“Where’s your coat? Is it in the baggage rack in your own compartment?”
“No…I…no, it’s on the seat next to me. There was no one else in the compartment.”
“Good. I’ll go and get it. I’ll be in the corridor by the lavatory. We must get out of here, pull the blind down, and close the door. It’s not far to the next station. We’ll get off there and catch another train. Just…just get rid of that blood. And don’t speak to anyone. Do you understand?”
She stared at him.
“Elena! Do you understand? There’s nothing you can do to help him now. And there’s someone on this train who did that to him! You’ve got to escape, or you could be next! You’re a witness.”
His voice was insistent. It helped her to be calmer now, rational. She must keep her promise to Ian. That was the only thing left. She must get control of herself, stop behaving like a child. Her legs felt shaky and she was cold all the way through, but that was of no consequence. All that mattered was she had made a promise to Ian to finish for him what he could not.
“Elena!”
Walter’s voice was sharper. She could hear the fear in it now, too. “Yes,” she said quickly. “Yes, I’ll go and wash. Please see if the lavatory is vacant so I can use it. I can hardly stand in the corridor waiting for someone to come out.”
He gave a tight, painful little smile. “No,” he agreed. “Wait here. Close the door behind me and don’t answer it to anyone else. Do you understand?”
“Yes…yes, of course. Be quick.” It was a plea, not an order.
He touched her on the arm gently, but he did not speak again. He went out and closed the door hard behind him, so she heard the latch click. Then she was alone. The paper was still clutched in her hand. She opened it and found the name and room number of a hotel in Berlin.
She could not bear to look at Ian’s body. She was horrified by it, and yet she still wanted to hold him in her arms, as if he could feel her there and know he was not alone.
