Murder on the Disoriented Express by Emily Lloyd-Jones

Author:Emily Lloyd-Jones [Lloyd-Jones, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2015-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

They don’t go back to their room.

Rather, Alan makes for the dining car. There’s some tea service going on, and nearly all of the tables are full. A low murmur blends together, providing the perfect cover for any covert conversation. Alan orders whatever sandwiches are available, along with the tea.

They’re seated at a table in the corner of the car, near a window. Ciere’s knuckles are white on the briefcase’s handle, and she slides it beneath their table. The cheerful scenery slides by—green field, trees, distant buildings, all gone before Alan has time to really take them in.

“They should have told us the real plan,” says Alan, when he’s sure no one will overhear. “Pruitt can plant the knife in Rover’s room, make it look like the Alberani family killed Shaw. And then there’s no need to let any of the money slip through our hands. The Syndicate breaks the business relationship and walks away with a small fortune.” Alan shakes his head. “It’s a good plan, if just a little morally reprehensible.”

Ciere’s eyes are strangely vacant when she picks up her teacup. “It’s the same as any con,” she says quietly. “You make the mark look at your right hand—dangle it in front of them, wave it around—and all the while, you’re picking their pocket with your left hand.” She drops a sugar cube into her tea. “He distracted us with the prospect of stealing part of the money, so we would get away quickly and wouldn’t notice him taking out Shaw.”

“Guntram should have told us,” says Alan. “Letting us walk in here blind was a risk.”

“Not as much as a risk as telling two teenagers they’re going to be party to murder,” Ciere says, voice dropping even lower. “For all he knows, we might have warned Shaw.”

Alan wants to ask if she would have warned Shaw. If she would have sacrificed her alliance with the Syndicate to save a stranger’s life.

He doesn’t ask. If the question were to be turned around, he knows his answer all too well. If it meant keeping himself safe, yes, he would let another person die.

Ciere’s voice is brittle with anger. “I should have known. The moment Guntram explained why Pruitt was going with us. Native of Florida, my ass.” She makes a disgusted sound. “They sent Pruitt because Guntram won’t get his hands dirty, Conrad won’t leave Guntram, and Henry’s off doing her own thing.”

Ciere’s phone buzzes and she picks it up.

“Pruitt?” asks Alan.

She nods once. “Wants to know where the hell we are.”

Alan sips at his tea. “I’ll bet he really wants to know if the money’s secure.”

Ciere mutters something about exactly where Pruitt can shove that money. She takes a savage bite of sandwich, barely pausing to chew before adding, “He can come find the money, for all I care.”

Pruitt does indeed find them.

It takes about an hour but the man shows up just as Ciere is paying the bill. He looks thunderous, but at the sight of the briefcase, some of his anger burns off.

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