按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
'That brother of mine；' she said； 'is an asshole。'
'Perhaps he has his problems；' Mrs Young said equably； digging around in her capacious and disorganized handbag for some money。
'If he was anyone else's kid； he'd be in jail。'
The words came out as if propelled irresistibly from a well of pressed emotion。 Even Xanthe herself looked shocked at what she'd let out； and feebly tried to weaken the impact。 'I didn't mean literally； of course；' she said。 But she had。
Mrs Young； who had paused in her search； finally found her purse and gave me a dollar。
'If there's any change； keep it；' she said。
'Thank you； madam。'
I had no choice but to leave and I made for the kitchen carrying the dollar on the tray like a trophy anchored by a thumb。 From there I looked back to see Xanthe begin to talk to Mrs Young； at first slowly； with brakes on； and then faster and faster； until all the unhappiness was pouring out like a flood。 I could see Xanthe's face and the back of Mrs Young's head。 Xanthe； it seemed to me； was perhaps sixteen； but probably younger： certainly not older。 She still had the facial contours of childhood； with a round chin and big…pupilled eyes： also chestnut hair in abundance and a growing figure hidden within a bulky white top with a pink glittering pop…slogan on the front； the badge of youth。
They were still talking when I continued on my way back to my roomette where I sat in fortable privacy for a while reading the timetable and also reflecting that although I still had no answers to the old questions； I now had a whole crop of new ones； the most urgent being whether or not Filmer had already known the Youngs were friends of Ezra Gideon。 Whether the Youngs were； in fact； a target of some kind。 Yet Filmer hadn't chosen to sit at their table； it had been the random fortuitous decision of Daffodil。 Perhaps if it hadn't happen so handily by chance； he would have engineered a meeting。 Or was the fact of their friendship with Gideon just an unwele coincidence； as I had at first supposed。 Time； perhaps； would tell。
Time told me more immediately that it was five…thirty； the hour of return to the dining room； and I returned to find every single seat already taken； the passengers having learned fast。 Lateers stood in the entrances； looking forlorn。
Filmer； I saw at once； was placed opposite Mercer Lorrimore。 Daffodil beside him； was opposite Bambi who was being coolly gracious。
Xanthe was still sitting across from Mrs Young； now rejoined by her husband。 Sheridan； as far as I could see； was absent。 Giles…the…murderer was present； sitting with the Youngs and Xanthe； being nice。
Emil； Oliver； Cathy and I went round the tables pouring wine； tea or coffee into glasses or cups on small trays with small movements； and when that was done Zak bounded into the midst of things； vibrating with fresh energy； to get on with the mystery。
I didn't listen in detail to it all； but it revolved round Pierre and Donna； and Raoul the racehorse trainer who wanted to marry her money。 Zak had got round the pre…empted Pierre…hitting…Raoul…to…the…ground routine by having Donna slap Raoul's face instead； which she did with a gusto that brought gasps from the audience。 Donna was clearly established as the wittering Bricknells' besotted daughter； with Raoul obviously Mavis's favourite； and Pierre despised as a no…good pulsive gambler。 Mother and daughter went into a sharp slanging match； with Walter fussing and trying to stop them。 Mavis； in the end； started crying。
I looked at the passenger's faces。 Even though they knew this lot were all actors； they were transfixed。 Soap opera had e to life within touching distance。 Racing people； I'd always thought； were among the most cynical in the world； yet here some of the most experienced of them were moved and involved despite themselves。
Zak； keeping up the tension； said that at the last of our brief stops at minor stations he had been handed a telex about Angelica's missing friend Steve。 Was Angelica present' Everyone looked around； and no； she wasn't。 Never mind； Zak said； would someone please tell her that she must telephone Steve from Sudbury； as he had serious news for her。
A lot of people nodded。 It was amazing。
Dressed in silk and ablaze with jewellery； apparently to prove that Donna's inheritance was no myth； Mavis Bricknell stumbled off towards the toilet room at the dome car's entrance saying she must repair the ravages to her face； and presently she came back； screaming loudly。
Angelica； it appeared； was lying on the lavatory floor； extremely dead。 Zak naturally bustled to investigate； followed by a sizeable section of the audience。 Some of them soon came back smiling weakly and looking unsettled。
'She can't really be dead；' someone said solemnly。 'But she certainly looks it。'
There was a lot of 'blood' all over the small partment； it appeared； with Angelica's battered head in shadow beyond the essential facility Angelica's eyes were just visible staring at the wall； unblinking。 'How can she do that？'' several said。
Zak came back； looked around him； and beckoned to me。
'Stand in front of that door； will you； and don't let anyone go in？'
I nodded and went through the crowd towards the dome car。 Zak himself was calling everyone back into the dining room； saying they should all stay together until we reached Sudbury； which would be soon。 I could hear Nell's voice announcing calmly that everyone had time for another drink。 There would be an hour's stop in Sudbury for everyone to stretch their legs if they wanted to； and dinner would be served as soon as the rain started again。
I went across the clattering； windy linkage space between the dining and dome cars and stood outside the toilet room。 I wasn't actually pleased with Zak as I didn't want to risk being identified as an actor； but that； I supposed； would be a great deal better than the truth。It was boring in the passage but also； it proved； necessary； as one or two passengers came back for a look at the corpse。 They were good humoured enough when turned away。 Meanwhile the corpse； who must have had to blink in the end； could be heard flushing water within。
When we began to slow down I knocked on the door。 'Message from Zak；' I said。
The door opened a fraction。 Angelica's greasepaint make…up was a pale bluish grey； her hair a mass of tomato ketchup。
'Lock the door；' I said。 'Zak will be along。 When you hear his voice outside； unlock it。'
'Right；' she said； sounding cheerfully alive。 'Have a nice trip。'
Chapter Eight
Angelica left the train on a stretcher in the dusk under bright station lights； her tomato head half covered by a blanket； and one lifeless hand； with red fingernails and sparkling rings； artistically drooping out of concealment on the side where the train's passengers were able to look on with fascination。
I watched the scene through the window of George Burley's office while I talked to Bill Baudelaire's mother on the telephone。
The conversation had been a surprise from the beginning； when a light young female voice had answered my call。
'Could I speak to Mrs B