Chapter 11: Ten

Despite his purpose on the Orient Express, Theo did not have the heart to waste the opportunity to acquire novel tastes when it comes to alcohol. With an indulgent sigh, he purchased a case of Sartreuse wine from the smooth-talking distillery owner with the money Rasputina had paid him. 

“It is as I promised, isn’t it?” Alphand said while they walked back to Canterbury station. “You won’t find a taste like Sartreuse anywhere else in the Empire.” 

“You’re absolutely right,” Theo agreed readily. “I must thank you for introducing this liquor to me, Monsieur Alphand. The strong herbal flavour invigorates the soul from deep down, and its delightful minty aftertaste soothes the palate for another drink—a truly fine wine from start to finish.” 

Alphand laughed. “It’s always a pleasure for one wine connoisseur to help another, don’t fret about it. Where shall we go next after…oh la la, I wonder if there’s a problem?”

Surprised, Theo followed Alphand’s gaze to the signal box on the station platform. The Wagon Lit conductor was standing next to it, growing agitated as he carried on a seemingly heated conversation with another black-uniformed gentleman. 

“Monsieur Alphand, can I please trouble you to bring my wine into our room?” he asked, already handing the wooden crate box to the confused gentleman. “I’ll go check out the situation with Machel. Oh, you can have a bottle to yourself as my thanks.” 

“Is that so? You’re very kind, Monsieur Cath,” Alphand replied, perking up immediately. “Please go ahead, I shall wait for your news on the train.” 

Machel and the gentleman didn’t notice his approach at first and continued arguing, and as he drew near he caught Machel rebuking the gentleman.

“As the stationmaster, you should have inspected the levers beforehand at the start of the day. This is in breach of the Wagon Lit protocol!” 

The stationmaster was about to reply when he saw Theo walking up to them. “Terribly sorry, this gentleman over here, can you please come again later? We’re currently not—” 

He put his hand up to stop the stationmaster. “Don’t worry about me, I’m just here out of curiosity. Machel, forgive my eavesdropping, but what’s wrong with the signal levers?” 

“Mister Cath, I’m not sure…” Machel hesitated, glaring at the stationmaster, then shrugged his shoulders in exasperation. “The Orient Express is delayed because the railway signals have been set to ‘danger’—but the stationmaster is denying that he ordered the signal. We just discovered that the lever frame inside the signal box has been damaged. Now the signals can’t be reset, and we’ll all be stranded here until the scouting party confirms that the track is clear.” 

“I swear that neither I nor any of my staff is at fault here,” the stationmaster insisted. “You saw that broken window too, Conductor. S-some ill-mannered bum must have sabotaged the signals in the night. That can be the only explanation for this terrible mess!” 

“A sabotage?” Theo pursed his lips and turned to the stationmaster. “Show me the damaged lever frame.” 

“Sir, we cannot allow unauthorised—”

“That wasn’t a request, stationmaster,” Theo said calmly. “I’m doing my own investigation into this matter.” 

“S-Sir?” The stationmaster gave Machel a puzzled look, but the Conductor was distracted by another passenger asking about lunch service. 

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“If you’re not planning to help me, I shall do it myself.” He began walking towards the signal box when the stationmaster frantically caught up with him. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll show you,” the stationmaster huffed, pulling out a heavy keyring and unlocking the door to the signal box with a new iron key. “Please make it quick, Sir.” 

Theo nodded his head absentmindedly while turning the gas lamp on. A window pane to the side was shattered, leaving a hole that was just wide enough for an average-sized person to crawl through. He eyed the broken window before turning his attention to the lever frame. The steel wires connecting individual levers to their respective signals had been cut, effectively rendering the levers as useful as crude sticks of metal protruding out of the floor. 

“That’s all,” he told the stationmaster. “I’ll be going now, thank you for your assistance.” 

“Sir? Sir, w-wait!” The stationmaster called out after him in a panic. “Pray tell, what did you discover?” 

Theo paused and chuckled to himself. “No need to worry, I won’t tell the Conductor that you had misplaced the key to the signal box and got it replaced just today.” 

He continued walking along the platform, his mind now on another, more worrying concern. It was clear that whoever sabotaged the signal box wanted to target the Orient Express, but why the signals in particular? It was too much effort that achieved little but to stall the train momentarily. It didn’t make sense. 

You’re not seeing the bigger picture. 

Again, it wasn’t his own thoughts that answered him. His footsteps paused.

Your mind tends to dwell on the minute details, Fedya, she whispered, using his birth name as naturally as she breathed. That’s why you are stuck on just one side of the puzzle. You must piece together the pieces not just in your perspective, but in the enemy’s perspective as well. 

With a grunt, he pushed the voice, her voice, into the back of his mind. What can the saboteur achieve from delaying the train? It couldn’t be simply done to frustrate the passengers. The delay wouldn’t be long enough to stop Anastasia and Rasputina from going to the Universelle Exposition. To buy time, then? 

He glanced up at the station clock. The Orient Express had been stopped here for almost an hour; most of the passengers were out and about, having grown frustrated of waiting in their stuffy compartments. Some went to stroll around the scenic town, while others mingled about on the platform striking up idle chatter with strangers. It was indeed a perfect opportunity to buy time—but for what? The true motive still eluded him. 

Until he noticed that the train carriages were empty. 

Of course they would be empty. The train was stuck at the station. The passengers had left out of boredom. Machel and the train crew were preoccupied with the faulty signals. 

Theo cursed aloud without thinking. What better time to strike a target, than when it is defenceless? The enemy could already be inside the train, setting their plan in motion in broad daylight. 

Then with a sinking dread, he remembered he had sent Alphand to return to their compartment. Alone. 

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