The Train by Cari Z

Author:Cari Z.
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-09-27T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Anton had just finished downing a glass of water and was considering calling the porter to see about having a meal brought to him when Camille returned. A faint smile curled his moustache upward, and there was an air about him that could only be dubbed satisfied. Anton waited for him to close the door before interrogating him. “You look like a cat that got the cream. What did you find out?”

“Did you know,” Camille drawled as he took off his hat and set it on his bunk, “that the water used to supply our rooms comes from tanks set beneath the train?”

“Yes, Monsieur Cassan said as much when he welcomed us aboard.”

“And did you also know that there is a service ladder that passes alongside them, so that they may be reached and worked on more effectively?”

“That…makes sense…”

“And might I add,” Camille went on, his smile growing a bit wider, “that all of the tanks are connected? So that if, say, the train is heading downhill, the water within the tanks surges to the front of the train, leaving some of the rear tanks less full. Likewise, as we ascend, the tanks in the front of the train will empty if there was not sufficient water within to keep them replete.” He tilted his head slightly, pinning Anton with a heavy-lidded stare that might have seemed lustful, had the subject matter been otherwise. “We entered the foothills late last night. We’re ascending steadily now, and when I tested the faucets in the viscount’s private bath, they barely ran at all. The tank beneath his suite is likely less than half full.”

“Are you…wait.” Anton shut his eyes for a moment, breathing away the tension in his shoulders and considering the issue at hand. Camille was leading him, teasing him with answers, but he could discover them on his own. “You think that Viscount Bonaparte was shot from below.”

“It’s the most logical conclusion from his death miasma.”

“Which means you think that his attacker had to be beneath his car. Actually within the water tank, which would be all right, since there was apparently room to breathe.”

“Each tank has a maintenance hatch in the top of it, large enough for a limber person to enter.” Camille’s smile dimmed a bit. “But I haven’t yet determined how whoever it was withstood the heat of the water within the tank. From what I understand, the spell keeping it warm is powered by the steam engine, so as long as the train is moving, the water must be hot. Almost boiling hot.”

The sense memory snapped into place in Anton’s mind, the wince that came from unrelentingly chill water on his hands. “But it wasn’t hot last night,” he said. “I remember, I had to relieve myself and the water from the taps…it was cold. It stayed cold.”

“Interesting.” Camille sat across from Anton in one of the little sitting room chairs. He looked slightly odd, folding his long body into it, but he didn’t seem to care about the spectacle he made.

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