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“Yes, of course I know. You don’t fall over and break your neck in a hotel linen cupboard. What has that got to do with it? Are you saying that whoever killed him killed Ian, too?” Now she was getting angry enough to look at him squarely. “And you think my going to Berlin has anything to do with that?”
“I have no idea.” He put his hand on her wrist. It was gentle, not at all intrusive. “But two people were murdered. I want you to be safe, and not only from the police, but from whomever is doing this. It has to matter a lot for this much violence, in a bustling hotel and a train full of passengers.”
It was true. And Ian had lied about the man in the cupboard at first. “Ian couldn’t have killed the man in the cupboard, because he was with me all afternoon. And he certainly didn’t kill himself!” She nearly choked on the words. Then she wondered why she had said them. Walter had not suggested he had.
“Of course he didn’t kill himself,” Walter said firmly, tightening his hold on her arm a little. “And do you know when the man in the cupboard was killed?”
She realized her mistake. “No…I suppose he could have been there since the morning…since the last time anyone had used the cupboard. I know there’s something unpleasant—”
“Unpleasant! Yes, very unpleasant, and dangerous. Elena, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into! No one has a right to ask this of you. You don’t even know what it is, do you?”
Yes, she did. All she had to do was deliver a message to Cordell in Berlin. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know him, or any of the embassy staff. She had lived there, for heaven’s sake! “It is a very small thing, and I’m going to do it,” she said perfectly steadily. “Please don’t treat me as if I were a child, or…or incompetent. I was very upset when Ian was killed. But I am perfectly capable of carrying on.” She took a long, steady breath. “But I am grateful for your help.”
He sighed and leaned back in his seat, a look of resignation on his face, and a wry smile, as if he might even admire her.
Elena drifted off to sleep, then woke with a start when the carriage door opened with a loud clang. She looked up and saw a tall guard staring at her.
She had slipped sideways and as she straightened up her coat parted at the front. Was it her legs, too much exposed, that the guard was staring at? Or the bloodstain indelible in the fabric of her dress? She felt the color hot in her face and reached to pull the coat closed.
The guard asked to see their passports. He looked at them carefully, then slowly raised his eyes to her face.
“Fräulein Standish?” he said, frowning.
“Yes.” He could not know of Ian’s death yet. Or suspect her!
“Why are you traveling to Germany, fräulein?” He looked at her steadily, challengingly. She was very conscious of the bloodstains over the rest of her dress. Would he demand to see under her coat?
“She’s my fiancée,” Walter said smoothly. “She will meet some members of my family for the first time. It is a little…nerve-racking, you understand?”
The guard smiled. “Oh, yes! I remember that!” He gave a slight shrug. “Good luck, fräulein. I’m sure they will be delighted.” He gave the passports back and continued along the train.
“Thank you,” Elena whispered, her throat tight. She was shaking, and the passport almost slid out of her hand.
“See? It wasn’t so difficult. Just don’t forget, when you get to Berlin. Will you be all right there?”
“Yes. Thank you. They’ll help me at the embassy.”
“Get you a new passport? It would be wise. When they find Newton’s body, which they will have by now, there will be a search for the woman who was with him. Bound to be.”
“Yes, I know. And the guards at the Italian border might remember me. But the embassy will help me. My father used to be the ambassador there. I’ll be all right. Thank you.”
She should sleep again, if she possibly could. It was not an express train, or it would hardly have stopped at the small station just behind them, but Hamburg was the end of the line, so she would have to get off there. And she needed to be awake then, strong and clear-minded. At least she had money, and she knew Berlin well enough to find the embassy easily. She just needed to be there before Cordell left for the day. That was about eleven hours from now.
She curled up on the seat, resting her head on her handbag and using her coat as a blanket. Walter straightened it and tucked it in for her. The rhythm of the wheels over the track was soothing, almost like a live thing keeping her company.
She did sleep—exhaustion forced it on her, but it could not keep the dreams at bay. She woke many times, trying to find a more comfortable position; lying along three seats was at least a luxury she was grateful for. Sleep where you can. Mike had told her that often, when he spoke about what it was like at the front. He told her more than he did anyone else. Partly it was a matter of not burdening them. He did not want to think it was on their minds every time they looked at him. Then he would not be able to forget, when he needed to.
“But why me?” she had asked.
She could remember the wry, funny look on his face, as if it had been only hours ago. “Because I need to have somebody understand me,” he had said. “When it’s all over, people will want to forget. But those of us who were there never will, not completely. I need someone to forgive me when I do daft things.” Then he had laughed. “Never mind, kiddo, just be there, eh?”
She had promised she would.
It was Mike who was gone.
* * *
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