The Mask of Minos, Bruno's Inferno

Chapter 22 - Train to Switzerland

Harry woke in bed. Julie was not in the cabin, and he wondered what was she up to. The bathroom light was on and it lit the cabin enough to see by. A bottle of Whiskey and paper-wrapped glasses sat on the little table in the corner and he unwrapped one of the glasses and poured himself a drink with a few ice cubes from the cooler and he looked out the window. In the darkness, trees and buildings that passed near the tracks looked mysterious, and on occasion, a small town or homestead passed by vaguely lit in the distance. There was no moon and he watched as the grey world went by. 

Unable to sleep, he threw some cold water on his face and poured another drink.

Then he heard a door close. It sounded like his own and he turned to look. How thin the walls must be. A man with a deep voice and a woman were talking quietly together. Harry returned to his gazing and drinking. Then the same door opened and closed and the deep voice had changed to another. This one carried less weight. He couldn't imagine what they were doing and waited for the sounds of either love play or violence. The door opened and this time slammed loudly.

Their conversation got louder, the talk more rapid. They began whispering, but unrestrained, and they got louder instead. It was hard to ignore and the woman's voice sounded a lot like Julie's. he pressed his ear against the door that separated the two rooms and gently tried the handle and found it locked. The handle slapped and there was silence. Harry stood for a moment and stepped back into the middle of his room. The sound of the train rolling on the track, and the rhythmic beat of the wheels clicking was all he heard. He trained his eyes on the door that separated him from them, as if by staring at it long enough he could hear better, or see through it, or open it.

The conversation resumed.  If it was Julie, he had to know, and he decided to knock on the door.  "Hello in there," he said. "Julie. Open the door," but as he said it there was a gunshot. He could see the flash of light it made through opening under the door. He pounded his shoulder against it, but it didn't move. This time he hit it hard, and the door flew open splitting the lock from the frame. Inside the other cabin the curtains were flying out the open window, a pungent smell of sulfur filled the air. He quickly scanned the room; anything that was not fixed to the train had been tossed about. A suitcase and a purse emptied onto the floor. The door to the hall hung slightly ajar.

He leaned out the window and put his hands in something warm and sticky. Blood. The window was reduced to jagged shards. Someone had gone out the window. But who? And who got shot, and who did the shooting? He picked up the purse and fumbled through it. It was empty except for a few papers belonging to Julie, and he tossed it out the window. When he turned, a little boy stood in the doorway.

"You run along now," he said. And he shooed him away like a stray dog. "Go. Allez trouver votre mere," and hoped it meant to get lost. The boy stared blankly at him and ran out. Others came quickly to see what had happened but Harry slipped into his room to clean up and make sure there was no incriminating evidence there. He dressed quickly and turned to leave but a porter stood in his way looking at the damaged room, his eyes wide opened and he muttered something and turned and ran off.

Harry ran to the front of the train searching for Julie. Two cars up it was as if nothing happened, no commotion, no sign of disturbance of any kind. A few people waited at the door to disembark at Luxemburg, the next station. Mostly people were asleep in the aft cars and those who couldn't afford sleepers or who didn't need them dozed in their seats. In the forward section of the last car before the restaurant one couple sat alone close together. Harry opened the door and they seemed to be making love and didn't notice his presence.