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Orient Express - East of Stuttgart

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As if in response to questions about the body, those able to see out the station side windows would see a sheet covered stretcher being wheeled to a dark van with a red cross painted on the side. It was a morbid site and for anyone unaware of recent events it sent a small wave of low chatter through the lounge. Just as it seemed the train might be allowed to go, a motorcycle with a side car sped towards the rear of the train. Out of sight there would be a quick handoff of a messenger bag to a soldier who seemed to expect it. The telegraphs and record keepers throughout the Reich had been busy compiling dossiers on notable members of the passenger manifest.

Though it may have seemed an eternity, especially for those accustomed to the precision of the Orient Express, it was only about 30 minutes before the train started again. Whether it was her paranoia or an actual event, a newcomer to the train kept looking towards Estelle, then looking away when she would catch his eye. He was a solid looking German who was scribbling away at a note pad. He appeared to be looking from Estelle's face to a sheet of paper as if trying to identify her.

Just as it might seem things were getting back to normal, Reinhard entered the car, his cold eyes scanning the assembled passengers until they settled upon Estelle and Leo. He made deliberately for them, his eyes boring into Estelle with each step. His boot heels clicked together as he gave the assembled passengers a quick nod. "We meet again Fräulein Devereaux and Herr...what was it again?" He asked quite deliberately, Reinhard's was not the kind of mind that easily forgot a name of any importance to him. His demeanor suggested they had quite a pleasant visit earlier, not a groping and gun point, but they were of course welcome to contradict him.

"You must be the 'count' Fräulein Devereaux spoke of so warmly." Reinhard's gaze shifting to Aleks and while he had already reviewed his passport and a quick look at what little the Gestapo knew of him from the dossier he didn't betray that he knew more than he was already told. Finally he turned to Jane, her passport photo didn't do her justice, he thought to himself. No other picture of her accompanied the dossier as such things couldn't be telegraphed, but the description of 'seductive' seemed to suit her. There was nothing quite concrete on her, other than she seemed to travel though Europe readily enough and have a lot of contacts but nothing so concrete as to make a suspicion. If she were a spy, she was a good one.

"We have not yet had the pleasure Fräulein?" He let the title hang as if expecting her to fill in the missing piece for him. "I do look forward to speaking to each of you soon, as I will all the passengers in the first class car of the unfortunate incident. I do hope you understand." He looked from one to the next, each in turn, his humorless smile and cold eyes assessing each in turn as if their reaction to his news was significant to him. "But I wanted to start with you Count, if you would be so kind to accompany back to your compartment." He took a step back and gestured with his arm towards the first class carriage.
 

Count Aleksander
Lounge Car
@MsBloom @Shiva the Cat @xavierrol @Traveler​

Well. This was hardly ideal. The Count did not let any hint of disquiet show on his face as the Nazis had arrived, all with their notepads and their investigation...he knew full well fascists tended to do their interrogations at the ends of ropes, or in chairs with hard fists raining down until the answers tumbled forth from unwilling lips. He'd been beaten before, Aleksander thought, in that prison after that betrayal...he could handle it if it came to that.

He hoped. "Ah, you know one another?" He asked with a chuckle, looking between them. "Dear me, so many on this train and we keep running into the same individuals..." He rubbed Estella's hand. "You should have mentioned this for me, my darling..." he added, playing up the flippant aristocrat with such a noble beauty at his side...his smile remaining fixed as he rubbed at Estella's hand, acting like he had no idea what had transpired...

"I am Count Aleksander, yes indeed," he added for Reinhard's benefit. They were at Stuttgart, so the Nazis absolutely had their own jurisdiction...he looked to Reinhard closely. "...But of course," he said as he rose. "I assure you, my dear, this shall be quick..." He locked eyes with the Nazi officer.

"Let us go, Herr...? Do you have a name?"
 
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As those closer to the windows began to murmur their excitement and horror at what was going on outside, Leonard glanced up and stretched to see what was amiss. The briefest glance of a sheet covered stretcher answered the question about what had become of the victim. He let out a soft breath and settled back in the booth, a chill reaching across his shoulders and down his arms.

Very few people came into the cabin. One of the men who did seemed smitten by Estella. He was either drawing her, or taking notes, but Leonard could not tell. He glanced over at the singer with the intent to tell her she had an admirer when he noticed that she was snuggled closely with the Count.

For some reason that made him feel 'off' to see the physical confirmation that there was more between the two than mere acquaintances. He passed the time adding sugar and milk to his tea and stirring it slowly as small talk and musings filtered around the car. He was finally feeling relaxed now that the train was moving. That was, until Reinhard entered the car.

'Oh, sweet Jesus,' thought Leonard. 'Why couldn't that man have just gotten off at the last station?'

When the tall, slim German uniform walked over to their table Leo could feel the noose tightening around their proverbial necks. Leonard's green eyes swept up the uniform's front to meet those cold, Reich eyes. And damn it, the man knew that Leo hadn't given him his full name. He knew, and furthering that pretense could only get him in more trouble.

"Mister Benjamin," Leo said as he held that gaze. "Leonard Wesley, Benjamin," he said, stringing the first two names together as if they were one. The cold gaze moved away and went to Aleks for which Leo was grateful. He could feel the joy the man must have felt in having the Count, his lover, and the one who supposedly cuckolded him at the same table. Leo sat quietly and rested his fingers against the sides of his teacup as he waited for the soldier to finish.

He was surprised, then, when the count was asked to be interviewed first. Leo's brows knitted briefly as he looked at his companion as he was invited to his compartment.

Leo watched the Count rise with confidence that he truly admired, then walk away. Once the scary man had left with Aleks, the attorney looked at the two women seated with him. Quietly he asked, "Who the hell is that man?" And why did he feel the cold touch of death every time his eyes looked Leo's way?
 
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Once the train started moving again without incident, Estella made the grave mistake of thinking they were off scot-free. "Whew! Guess they must have figured something out after all," she laughed nervously, wondering if it was too early to ask the bartender for a proper drink. Before she could make her way out of the corner however, she became aware of a heavyset man across the car, scribbling away at a bit of paper. She frowned a little, trying to remember if he had been sitting there when she and Leo first arrived. He never looked directly at her so she couldn't be sure, but something about him made her nervous.

Not nearly as nervous, however, as the return of the blond official from before. All color drained from the singer's face, and she pressed herself back into the corner of the booth, as if she were trying to make herself as small as possible. Aleks seemed to pick up on her fear and touched her hand reassuringly, but it was like holding up a match against an oncoming hurricane. Estella trusted the Count against the likes of Jane Eyelesbarrow, but against the Reich? It was enough to make her laugh. Or cry.

Instead she prayed, sucking in her breath and casting her gaze on the table before her. Don't notice us, please God don't let him notice us...

"We meet again Fräulein Devereaux."

Well fuck you too. Shoulda known You'd bail on me in the end.

Estella raised her head timidly, trying to forget the feel of the man's icy hands on her body. She was careful not to make eye contact with Leo, or even with Aleks for that matter. Instead she stared straight at Jane with mixed emotions, half-wondering half-hoping the British woman would be able to find some way to get rid of the man. He certainly seemed at least as intrigued with her as Estella and the others had been. Maybe he would take her first?

Again, luck had abandoned her. Aleks would be the first to depart. Dear, sweet, stupid Aleks, chuckling as though the man's arrival were nothing more than a mild inconvenience, throwing around endearments like she really was the lover she'd claimed to be. Had he figured that out from the official's words, or was that look in his eyes something a little more than an act? Great, that was the last thing Estella needed. If the Nazis didn't break his bones with their interrogations, then she could break his heart when they reached Constantinople. If they reached Constantinople.

Once he was gone, Estella leaned forward, resting her forehead against her folded hands on the table for a moment. "He's a rat bastard," she muttered, not looking up at first. Then she turned her gaze directly towards Leo. "You know, back in the baggage car, I think he liked what he did to us? Fucker probably gets off on it. Not unlike some people I know..."

Her eyes flitted just for a moment towards Jane. It was an unfair remark though; the woman might have enjoyed playing with people, but Estella didn't get any underlying sense of cruelty from her. So far, anyway.
 
Name: Jane Marple
Location: Lounge Car
@Shiva the Cat @Vinaein @Traveler

As the Gestapo officer approached the table she had only just noticed the man who seemed to be keeping an eye on Estella. He was quite lacking any sort of subtlety and she was sure he had not been in the game for very long. It was quite probable that he was there for the briefcase which even further convinced Jane that Estella was not safe as long as she had it, possibly not even if she didn't. Jane certainly would need to talk to her about it. There would also be need for coordinating their stories. She gave a brief nod at Estella behind the officer's back as he began to make his introductions of whatever sort they were, a nd she hoped would let Estella know that everything would be alright, that she had ways to keep them safe if only the young singer would trust her.

"Eyelesbarrow," Jane filled in the Gestapo officer's hanging title and bore her eyes into him as if to dare him to question her on it.
"It is an old Anglo-Saxon name," she added with a sly smile.
She had noticed the messenger bag being delivered as the motorcycle had driven past their window. One had to give it to the Germans that they worked quickly and efficiently . That bag probably contained most of the information they had on the passengers but it did not worry her much. She doubted it would contain anything conclusive, especially if they had not connected her to some of her other aliases.

She received her tea just as the officer turned back towards the count to let him know he would be the first to be questioned. This busied her for a few brief moments and when she looked back up the count was being led away towards the sleeping compartments.
"Now this would be a good time for us to talk," she whispered at Estella, leaning in as close as she dared without drawing suspicions.
"You know what about. Especially since you are now being watched."
She looked over at Leo, whom she didn't want to leave all alone either but he was probably quite able to take care of himself.
"If it would make you feel safer then Leo can join us. It seems the two of you are already acquainted and trust each other to some level. Shall we?"
She took a large mouthful of her tea and stood up.
 

"Yes, Herr Benjamin, I must have missed that earlier, such a distinctive family name." he practically sneered as the name left his lips. While it might not seem like an accusation to those used to living in free and tolerant countries, those familiar with the political situation in the Third Reich would recognize the barely concealed threat. He of course had read the full name in the passport as Mr. Benjamin had apparently anticipated by taking this opportunity to correct the record between them. Fear was such a powerful motivator and Mr. Benjamin's fear had already forced his desperate and misguided attempt to conceal his true sir name, what other slips might he make when alone being questioned?

"I'm sure." He said as dismissively as he could to the pedigree implied by the "old Anglo-Saxon" descriptive. Her confidence made her quite distinctive and interesting to the Gestapo officer. It could so easily be used to justify two very different conclusions about her. One, admittedly most likely, she simply had nothing to fear from him and her confidence was simply habit bred through old money and good connections. The other, that she was playing him with skill and experience and blood every bit as cold as his, at least at times.

Reinhard paused as the count asked his name. "Sturmbannführer Müller" he responded, clarifying to the group of them both his sir name and title before continuing to lead the count back to his compartment. (Continuing in Aleks' Compartment.)

If it had been Jane's intention to meet privately in one of their compartments, she would find the entrance to the entire car blocked by an armed German policeman. However the rest of the train was open to them, however no where was truly private other than a water closet which would hardly be suitable for the three of them.

However Jane had barely stood when the man who had been admiring Estella slipped into the still warm seat of the count, blocking her easy departure. "Pardon the intrusion, but are you not Estella Devereaux the actress?" He said, his voice breathy with excitement and thick with accent, as he slid a playbill from one of her Paris shows across the table towards her. "Oh excuse me, I am Fritz Weber, I write for Jugend about the arts." He looked at the others at the table as if just realizing they were there and that he might be interrupting them. "My apologies, I just was wondering, hoping that maybe you would be performing in Germany soon?" His expression and words seemed earnest enough. "And perhaps if you would consider autographing this as a memento."
 
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Damn it, he had been had. Not that he believed the man did not know the name, but that the tall, blue-eyed man was making it apparent that his name was so distinctive. Leo would have to lean on his ties to the law office and hope that they did not hold it against him that he was both of Jewish descent, and an attorney. The man was high-ranking, arrogant, and evil. He could tell merely by how the man had felt Stella up and lorded his power over them. He liked it when people feared him.

He got off on it. Stella was right; the man enjoyed what he did to them, and he would probably do it again. Knowing the little that he knew of the man, he didn't think that Sturmbannführer Müller would care if anyone saw him or not. Strike that – the man would want others to see him do it. He would have enjoyed it more.

The women spoke of 'talking.' It sounded like their talk would not be about fashion or men, not unless it had to do with Müller. Leo's eyes darted from Jane to Estella and back. "I…" he did not want to intrude but he also wanted to be present if Estella needed it. Hell, he just didn't want to be alone.

Jane stood, ready to leave, when the stocky artist or journalist appeared at their table. For a big fellow the guy moved fast. Too fast for Leo to even think about standing up, and suddenly he was gushing at Estella about her acting. Leo's eyes darted to Jane. This couldn't be a mere coincidence; the man had been waiting for just the right time to delay them. But he was a German, and right now anything that Leonard did that might seem as a slight towards the countryman of the Sturmbannführer might be seen as an act of defiance.

And to people like Leo, defiance equaled death.
 
Jane's voice was warm and sweet as she whispered in the singer's ear, and sent a shiver down Estella's back that she didn't want to admit to. "I don't know what we have to talk about," she hissed back, narrowing her eyes. "Unless you want to apologize for stealing my belongings and seducing me."

At least it was unlikely this second crime would be repeated, if Leo was to join them. With Aleks gone he was the next best defense, although at the moment the gentleman was probably a better target than a shield. Still, he would be a good barrier against Jane, and if they were all together the odds of being spirited off the train in a black bag seemed an iota smaller. Estella nodded at the suggestion, then looked over at the man. "Yes, please join us Leo. I...would appreciate your insights on a certain matter of debate between Miss Eyelesbarrow and myself." Certainly he wouldn't feel any loyalty to a fascist king, all things considered?

She was just rising to her feet when suddenly the heavyset man she'd noticed earlier approached, making Estella tense and reflexively dig her nails into Leo's wrist beside her. The man spoke with a German accent, which did nothing to endear him to the showgirl, but when he slid across the flyer with her own flamboyant figure emblazoned across the front, her expression relaxed. Slightly.

"I didn't think Germany considered my act an 'art' any longer," Estella replied slowly, recalling how she and other performers like herself had more or less been chased out of Berlin a few years earlier. Still, as far as she could tell Mr. Weber's admiration seemed genuine, and that was enough to bring a small smile to her face. "I'm afraid I'm between engagements at the moment, but I'm bound to play Club Maxim once we reach the end of the line. Does Jugend still subsidize international travel for its reporters, Mr. Weber? If so you ought to come see me. I've been working on a new act."

The fear was slowly fading away, replacing itself with the glittering Broadway charm that had made her famous across Europe. "As for an autograph, I'd be more than happy to oblige. If anyone has a pen?" She looked from Weber to Leo to Jane, her fingers outstretched and twitching.
 
Name: Jane Marple +Jeudeth Bakari
Location: Lounge Car
@Shiva the Cat @Traveler

Jane's eyes met Leo's as the man bluntly interrupted them from leaving. She gave a subtle shake of her head. It was no mere coincidence, especially not as the spectacled woman who had been pretending to read Nietzsche seemed to have used the distraction to make herself scarce.
"I think that is quite enough Herr Weber. Mademoiselle Devereaux is indeed between engagements and is in need of rest," Jane said and politely placed a hand on the man's shoulder pulling him away from Estella.
"She will not be signing any autographs, nor give any interviews, to the German press."
Jane looked at Estella seriously to tell her to go along with the polite refusal.
"In fact," Jane continued.
"Mademoiselle Devereaux is needed elsewhere on matters of some urgency, aren't you ma chérie," Jane said using the same term of endearment she often used with Elise, in what might seem like she was making a claim on the young singer and actress, but was really more designed to put the man off any ideas he might have that an autograph might lead so something more.

Jane did not exactly allowed for Estella to object or protest when she took Estella by the arm and with a look at Leo asked him wordlessly to make sure the man stayed where he was and then followed them while she lead Estella back towards the sleeping compartments, half expecting them to be entirely sealed of but luckily they were not. There was just a single guard outside Aleks' compartment who barely gave either of them a second look as they walked past. only to find the sliding door to Estella's compartment open and inside was a woman of African descent busy cleaning the room which by the looks of it had been thoroughly searched.

Jeudeth had just picked up a gold coloured jacket off the bed and hung it on a hanger. This caused Jane to raise an eyebrow. It was a jacket exactly like the one Walsh had described as what the woman he had met with had worn which was indeed odd because there was no logical way that woman could have been Estella, was there? Estella had been right there at the scene of the murder. Jane could swear to that. She had however disappeared rather quickly but Jane now hoped that had been to hide the briefcase. It would certainly not be a good thing if The Gestapo had found it. Then again they didn't have the key. At least she hoped not.

"Bitte entschuldigen Sie mich Meine Fräulein," the African maid said nervously as if she had been caught snooping or attempting to steal something.
"Es ist in ordnung," Jane replied with a clear British accent and took the jacket from the maid with a smile as if there was nothing odd about finding her in the compartment.
She was probably just doing her job, cleaning up after the Gestapo had tossed it looking for who knows what and hopefully finding nothing.

Jane waited until Jeudeth had left the compartment and Leo had joined them. She closed the door behind them, held up the jacket at Estella.
"Not yours I presume?" she said.
 
Herr Weber's interest in Estella seemed most genuine, perhaps best illustrated by his almost total lack of interest in her companions. If he were a German agent, his fixation on Estella would be quite concerning. It bordered on obsession and had little of the subtlety of a proper intelligence operative.

At her fretting over not being considered an artist in Germany any an abhorrent look came upon his face. He looked about to his left and right as if assuring no one else was listening in on them. "Yes certain moralistic expectations have taken over our artistic life, but you are still an artist to me."

"in Istanbul?" He asked excitedly, jotting the word Maxim on his notepad. He then quickly tried to slip his pencil into her hand as she seemed inclined to give her autograph.

He seemed quite beguiled and content to sit with her. But he then looked crestfallen as the Englishwoman essentially snatched her from his grasp. "Perhaps you could sit for an interview at the noon meal?" He asked almost desperately before she departed.
 
Estella seemed enchanted by Herr Weber's excitement over meeting her, as if fandom was all it took to turn a foe into a friend. Though she seemed reluctant to commit to any new engagements in Germany, she was willing to provide an autograph. At the reach of her delicate fingers to find a pen, Leo sought to oblige her, his hand reaching into his jacket to feel for its presence.

That was, until Jane's more direct approach told the attorney that this meeting was over. The heiress spoke with authority, almost as if she was Estella's personal manager. Leo stopped searching for a pen and rested his hands on his knees as he watched her deftly dismiss them from the eager man's presence. Despite the women's similar age, Jane took on an authoritative role, taking Estella by the arm as if she were a youngster and standing to lead them away.

As they left, Herr Weber seemed almost to follow. Leo stood to intervene, and at the last attempt to request an interview at the noon meal, he put out a hand to block the man and met his gaze. "I'll ask her," he told the crestfallen admirer. "I will let you know, Herr Weber." He hoped that would be enough to assuage the man. If he were truly only an adamant fan, he would be helpful. If he were more than that, he could cause trouble for them all.

He left a few German Marks on the table to pay for their drinks and moved on, through the double doors and into the sleeping compartment. He had not paid much attention to the rooms the previous day, though he had remembered Aleks telling Estella that his room was next to hers. So it was no surprise to see that a German guard was standing outside a particular door. What was surprising was when he knocked on the door adjacent to his, which he had presumed to be Jane's, since he saw her walk into it the night before, had not been. Only silence answered when he called out, "Jane?"

Then another door opened and he was surprised to see the negress maid leaving the room, and Jane standing inside as if expecting him. He saw Estella inside and entered, now trying to figure out how he had mistaken one door for the other.

"Not yours I presume?" Jane asked Stella, as she held up a golden jacket.

Leo glanced between the two. "I don't think that's her color," he offered. "Is this really a time to be discussing wardrobe?" He rubbed a hand across his eyes and began to pace in the small area that was afforded him, then went to sit by the window. "God…poor Aleks." He could only imagine the grilling the count was receiving, though soon he would not have to imagine it at all.
 

"Excuse me?" If looks could kill, Jane would have been dead on the floor before Estella's eyes. Unfortunately the singer's gaze wasn't nearly so lethal, and even more unfortunately the other woman could easily overpower her. Before she knew what was happening, the British woman was all but dragging her away, leaving Mr. Weber looking bewildered behind her.

"Fans, what can you do?" she tried to laugh it off as she waved helplessly back towards the journalist. She wasn't about to draw further attention from the nearby officials by picking a fight with Jane in the middle of the lounge, but boy would she let her have it once they were alone. "But of course I'd love to sit with you! I'll see you at noon, right here!" she called back. "If I don't show, send a search party!"

If the other woman had wanted a private audience (well, private aside from Leo, whose uselessness in the exchange did not endear himself to Estella), it might have best been had in the First Class Lounge or Dining Car. Against all odds and decent sense though, Jane was dragging her towards the sleeping compartments. "What the fuck are you doing?" she hissed in her ear, trying to avoid the gaze of the guard outside Aleks' compartment. For a moment, the horrifying thought that Jane might have actually been a Nazi operative dragging the two Jewish passengers to their doom almost made her freeze in her tracks. Thankfully, the British woman led them into Estella's own compartment.

"Oh yeah, this is real nice and private," Estella commented drily as she watched the chambermaid scuttle away. In the next compartment, she could hear the muffled sound of male voices. Brushing past Jane, she picked up her purse and immediately reached for her cigarette case. Then on second thought, she pulled out the little bottle of white tablets, taking two dry while continuing to glare daggers at the other woman. "You know, I'm getting real sick of you, dollface." There was no endearment in the term as she slipped a cigarette between her lips. "My pussy must've been something else for you to keep following me around like this. You can keep dreaming though, it ain't happening again if I got anything to say about it."

The comment was made without regard to Leo. Jane herself didn't seem to notice him either, her attention entirely taken by a dress and jacket hanging neatly against the wall. "Not yours I presume?" the woman asked.

Estella frowned as she lit the cigarette. "As a matter of fact...no." She puffed out a cloud of smoke as she examined the garment. Too boxy and frumpy for her taste, and at least two sizes too large. Her head turned suspiciously back towards Jane. "How'd you know? And how'd you know it'd be here?" The singer took a step backward. "The fuck are you playing at?"

Her eyes shifted to Leo for a moment. "Don't trust this bitch as far as you can throw her, honey. She ain't on the up and up. First she steals from me, then she assaults me, then she drags me back to where a bunch of her Nazi pals are probably listening in on this whole goddamn conversation. She's probably trying to set us both up for something, maybe even that poor broad's murder..."
 
Name: Jane Marple
Location: Lounge Car
@Shiva the Cat @Traveler

Despite the fact that he would certainly not mind another few moments of intimacy with the singer she ignored the comment about how good Estella's private parts must have been for Jane to hang on so tightly to her.
"Because this is exactly what someone described a spectacled woman he met with wearing, the very same one that sat behind you in the dining car if I am not mistaken. I did however not expect to find it here."
Jane shot a glance at Leo and shook her head. This was no fashion discussion.
"I am sorry about dragging you away like that," she turned back to Estella and met those sharp looks.
"But under the circumstances we cannot afford to trust anyone other than ourselves, if that. It is time you start to accept the fact that because of the contents of you briefcase, which I hope to all things dear hasn't fallen into the hands of The Gestapo or any other German, you my dear are not safe. It is a dangerous game you have been forced into. I should know. I've been doing it for the better part of two decades myself, in the service of the British government."
Jane took a deep breath and for a moment wondered if Walsh had had any sort of luck at all in finding the fake courier again. She presumed not since she was about 90 % certain that the woman reading Nietzsche was the same one that not long ago had worn that gold jacket and dress.
"And up until earlier this year of the crown as well, but I refuse to pledge allegiance to any king of such political and philosophical views. This is why I am following you around. If the papers within are what you say they are then they must under no circumstances fall into the hands of the Germans, and if that means I will have to steal the briefcase from you again and if left with no other alternative destroy them then so be it. Now neither you nor I want them to be destroyed, or fall into the wrong hands do we."
She paused again and considered the implications of the gold jacket and the dress being found in Estella's compartment. It was an obvious frame job and it had perhaps been intended for The Gestapo to find them there which would give them a reason to arrest Estella. Could it have been the maid who had planted them under the guise of cleaning up. It seemed strange but who knew what hold The Gestapo might have on the poor African woman.
"Now will you please just sit down so we can talk about what to do."
She took the jacket and dress from the hanger and opened the window.
"First though we need to get rid of these," she decided and held the garments out the window and let them fly to the wind."
 
"No! You don't say!" Estella clasped an overdramatic hand to her chest. "Somebody saw somebody else wearing another person's clothes! Call the fucking B.O.I." Sneering, she crushed out the last of her cigarette in the ashtray. "Look, the dumb chambermaid or somebody probably just delivered it to the wrong room. So what? People make mistakes, yours truly included."

Like going into Jane's compartment, for example, or letting her get dragged off back here. There was one thing the singer could be proud of though: her guess about the woman's occupation was absolutely right, by Jane's own admission. She shot Leo an 'I-told-you-so' raise of the eyebrows before crossing her arms over her chest.

"And why should I believe a word that comes out of that pretty mouth of yours, huh Jane?" she asked accusingly. "You keep saying how nobody can trust nobody no more. Well how come I should trust you? 'Cause you said so? No way, sister, I don't think so." Estella shook her head. "I can tell you I'm the Queen of Sheba, but that don't make it true, do it? You got any proof about who you are, Miss 'Eyelesbarrow'?" There was no mistaking the sarcasm with which the showgirl drawled the agent's last name.

"Plus, if this business between you and me is sooooo secret, how come you're letting Leo here in on it?" Estella continued, waving one hand towards the businessman. "No offense of course, honey," she added as an aside. "As for that case, I took care of all that. It ain't any of your beeswax. If it were, we wouldn't have had that little chat we had last night, would we? You'd've known what was in it from the beginning." Realization dawned in her dark eyes, and her lips curled into a wicked grin. "You wasn't after me at all, were ya? You just got real lucky you saw me in the lounge yesterday."

Estella didn't choose to acknowledge in that particular moment that if she had just kept her head and not acted like a nervous nelly, she wouldn't even be in this situation at the moment. It was much more pleasurable to keep the focus on Jane. "Now..lemme guess, someone back at the home office you're trying to impress? Some big promotion waiting in the wings if you can claim the credit for making the delivery yourself? Well, good luck with that dollface. You don't know shit about shit, and I ain't saying another goddamn word to you until you give me a real good reason to."

As if to demonstrate her point, she sat down on the plush seat across from Jane and watched the agent toss the dress out the window, entirely unperturbed.
 
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Leo sat and pulled out his cigarette tin, then lit the tip as he puffed on one end. He offered the ladies the tin but they were both focused on each other. This would have given the theater crowd a fine show if the topic had not been so deadly.

There were things going on that he had no understanding of. Spying, it seemed, did not happen only in dime store novels. As the ladies continued their conversation he found that he was both intrigued at the revelations and terrified that he was no implicated in whatever they were doing.

Jane opened the window he was near and tossed the offending garments from the train. Leo raised an eyebrow, took another long drag, and glanced over at Estella. She seemed to pull her into her side with her raised eyebrows and that look of 'See? I was right.' Then she reminded Leo that Jane had been telling secrets in his presence.

"No offense taken," he replied in his clipped accent. He flicked ashes into the glass ash tray, remaining seated as he watched them argue their cases. It was almost like a lovers' quarrel, and as the two women cackled at each other, each accusing the other of wrong-doing, he realized it probably was…

"If you two would like some privacy I could excuse myself," he said, taking a final draw on his cigarette and then crushing out the last bit in the tray. "Although…I'm finding this quite interesting. From an attorney's perspective, of course." He smiled wryly, then shrugged. "So…Estella, you have an alibi for last night. Do you as well, Jane?" His questioning was merely curiosity, of course. The kind of curiosity that came when two women spoke of intimate parts and bickered like they had more between them than normal levels of female competitiveness.
 
Name: Jane Marple
Location: Lounge Car
@Shiva the Cat @Traveler

Jane listened to Estella's rant and much of it made perfect sense. There really was no reason for the cabaret singer to trust her further than she could throw her, which had proven to not be very far. At the same time she found it frustrating that she took the attitude she did.
"First of all Miss Devereaux. It's as your tone suggests you have already figured out not Eyelesbarrow."
Jane glanced at Leo and knew that this was another good point made by Estella. Why would she suddenly reveal as much as she had in front of him if it was all as secret as she had made it out to be. Perhaps it was that he was a jew and would be most unlikely to work for the current German government, or for the Soviets for that matter. It was much more likely that he was simply a lawyer sent on business via the perhaps most dangerous route his company could have chosen for him.
"As for Leo," she said and gave voice to her conclusion regarding why she was not uncomfortable revealing as much as she had in front of him.
"He has as much to lose, if not more, as you and I if that briefcase were to fal into the wrong hands."
She then took a deep breath and cleared her mind ever so briefly, shot Leo a glance and for a moment or two she was lost for words.
"No," she admitted.
"I was unaware of the contents when I boarded the train in Paris. I had of course read of the murder of MP Murrow in The Times' international edition. It is his briefcase is it not. It was however not until Leo here mentioned the murder that I made the connection. I fully respect your hesitation to trust anyone working for the British government since the very fact that you are in possession of the briefcase suggests you are the mysterious woman seen entering the Savoy with him."
She glanced at Leo again to judge his reaction to what she was telling Estella.
"It could of course be you but somehow I doubt that. From what I've seen you don't seem to have murder in your blood. It does take something rather exceptional in a person to kill another, even in war. Not that The Gestapo, or the Scotland yard would bother much about such trivialities should the evidence lead them to you."
She paused and sat down, crossing her left leg over her right and straightened her trousers.
"You are absolutely right in saying you have no reason to trust me. I am unsure if I would trust myself if I were you if I am being honest but right now I am satisfied that the briefcase is safe and the key as well. I have no desire to claim its safe delivery for myself but I will do everything in my power to make sure you are able to deliver it. I won't even ask where you hid it."
Again she glanced at Leo and in that moment realised where Estella was most likely to have hid the valuable object which made her wonder if the count would actually have been able to make good on his promise to deliver it to her. She very much doubted he knew it's current location since there had not been much time for Estella and him to communicate since the murdered woman was discovered. It was far more likely that Leo would know, even if perhaps he had not realised the significance of the briefcase until a few moments ago.
"By the way Miss Devereaux, you should indeed be careful who you trust. Your friend the Romanian Count offered me the briefcase in exchange for information only moments before we met in the dining car. I doubt he had any mandate from you to do so. Did he now?"
It was perhaps not a reason in itself for Estella to trust Jane but it was certainly a reason for her to start questioning who she trusted.
 
"If you two would like some privacy I could excuse myself..." Leo's offer was probably made out of politeness, but Estella wasn't taking any chances.

"If he's going, I'm going," she added quickly, not daring to be left alone in Jane's company a second time. The briefcase and its contents might be secure for now, but who knew what lengths the spy would go to in order to weasel additional information out of the hapless American? Luckily, Leo didn't show any sign of actually going anywhere, and indeed the singer was beginning to suspect he found the whole conversation somewhat amusing.

Jane wasn't pulling any punches in the meantime, and Estella winced a little at the mention of Murrow. Poor guy, he didn't deserve to die like that, but what could she do? She had panicked. At least now the singer kept her cool well enough to neither confirm or deny the spy's suspicions, although her face had paled somewhat at the man's name. It wasn't until the Brit had the balls to mention Aleks that the American's silence finally broke.

"So Aleks had a little chat with you, huh? I thought he might've." It took a great deal of effort to keep her tone even, and Estella reminded herself that she'd thought she'd heard the Count's voice coming from Jane's compartment earlier. This isn't a surprise, you knew about it. Ah, but had she known he had tried to offer Jane the case? "He was bluffing," Estella said a little too quickly, willing the statement to be true. "Aleks doesn't have any reason to betray me. If anything, he was probably messing with you, dollface. He was real sore after he walked in on us last night. He probably wanted to punish you like he punished me."

She tried to smile wickedly, but it came through a little faint. "The Romanians ain't got no dog in this fight anyway, when it comes to the matter of the you-know-what. The situation between me and His Excellency is personal, and I do trust him." Maybe not as much as she had last night, but still more than she trusted Jane. "You got a problem with that, you take it up with him. If that doberman next door don't chew him up first."

Estella could still faintly hear voices from the next compartment, and wondered if Aleks was possibly being as garrulous with the officer as he had been with the spy.
 
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Leo wondered if his predicament was as obvious as it seemed to his new companions, or if it was merely his last name. He really should have taken his mother's name. Pride…comes before the fall. And his pride in a father who stayed in England might be Leo's fall in the end. Perhaps he should have taken his mother's advice and never looked back. The past was the past for a reason, after all.

Estella seemed to think her fate was safer in his presence. Leo wished that he could tell her that was true. He as not debonair and confident, like that man, Charles Walsh was, and he was not blooded royalty like Count Aleksander. He was simply a man who studied subjects well and did his job. He had simple aspirations, followed orders, and wanted honest pay for honest work. It was not too much to ask from life, the had thought. But perhaps now, with the way the world was, he was asking for more than he should have hoped for.

It was interesting that Jane had no alibi for the prior night. He had seen her go into the room adjacent to his. Not 'this' room, but another…so whose room had she been in?

Then came the revelation that Estella had somehow come into possession of the murdered politician's briefcase, then the accusation that she had murdered him. At the same time that Jane realized that Stella could not have been the murderer, he did too. She was quick-minded. She was not evil. It sounded like Jane was not, either, but they were both involved in something that he was not involved in. He could not be involved in it.

Next came accusations against Alek. Leo frowned. His eyes went from one woman to the other, trying to weigh their words and the truth behind them.

"Pardon me," he said, leaning forward slightly once the women had finished hashing their opinions about the count and seemingly debating who knew him, or trusted him, the most. "I have never been on both sides of the prosecution and defense before. This is what this feels like to me," he said, reaching for a fresh cigarette and lighting it before continuing. "Now…it seems to me that there are some clandestine activities about, and I am not one well-versed in that realm. Obviously you are not the best of friends, yet you have overlapping interests."

His gaze went from one to the other. "There are gaps in this situation that I have not been privy to. Since you've both seen fit to draw me into your troubles, perhaps you would be so kind as to paint me a clearer picture of what it is I am undoubtedly going to be going to the stalag for?" he asked, taking a long draw from his cigarette. "After all, like Jane, I have no alibi for last night."
 
Name: Jane Marple
Location: Lounge Car
@Shiva the Cat @Traveler

"Please, do stay," Jane asked Leo at his suggestion of leaving the two of them to their own devices.
"Who knows we might need a referee, or at least a moderator, even a mediator, at some point."

Jane looked closely at Estella to determine whether she was being honest or not and saw the surprise on her face at the mention of Aleks having offered Jane the briefcase and heard the hollow ring to Estella's dismissal of it as Aleks having been bluffing. It was of course possible that was the case. Estella did seem relatively certain that the briefcase was safe even if Jane's comment had sown a seed of doubt in her mind. That much was obvious to Jane's trained eye.

"Everyone always has an alibi. It is just a question whether it can be proved and whether they want to expose it," Jane said cryptically and looked over at Estella.
In a sense they were each others' alibi but it was an alibi neither of them would want exposed, especially not to the Germans. Of course there was a small gap in the early hours of the morning when Jane didn't know what Estella had been doing, and vice versa. There was always the possibility that either of them could have used that time to strangle the dead woman. So could Aleks and Leo.

She did however use Leo's statement regarding over-lapping interests to give Estella a nod and agree with this.
"Politics can sometime make for strange bed-mates, and sometime the enemy of your enemy can be your most, if not only, trusted ally."
She smiled at Estella at the mention of strange bed-mates.
"Whether we like it or not, we are in this together now. The three of us, four if you count the count. All of us had opportunity to murder the poor woman, we all had access if not motive. I can of course only speak for myself when I say I had no reason to want her dead, quite the opposite, her death has made my actual mission that much more difficult, especially since the agent I am here to keep an eye on seems to be quite the amateur."
She paused to look at Estella and then Leo.
"Without going into to many details the murder a few doors down from here is putting the lives of a great number of people loyal to the British government at risk should the information I suspect she was carrying fall into German hands. Just the same as a great number of lives would be at risk should the contents of your briefcase fall into the wrong hands."
She paused again and took a few seconds to think about the situation.
"I am also fairly certain that the two are linked together, somehow."
 
"You two can speak for yourselves. I have an alibi," Estella insisted, a smug smile on her face. "I was with the Count all night. And before you say anything, he didn't have any opportunity to slip away either. I kept him quite busy. Someone left me with unfinished business, after all." That'd show Jane, thinking she was the hottest bit of action in town. Let her think the Count had railed her six ways from Sunday. "But Aleks will vouch for me, and I'll do the same for him. The two of us are in the clear."

Of course, there had been other questionable activities taking place that night, but that wasn't any concern of anyone else in the compartment, at least not for now.

"As for what the broad was carrying, I don't know and I don't care. For all I know she pissed off her boyfriend and he did her in. That ain't any of my concern any more than my briefcase is yours, dollface," she stared directly at Jane. "I know you weren't put on this train for li'l ole me, so if you've got real work to do why don't you just do it and leave me and Leo here out of it? There's probably a lot of people in Europe carrying around secrets the Nazis would love to get their hands on, but that don't mean it's all connected. And even if it were, you're just gonna draw more attention by trying to solve all the mysteries at once. Maybe that's fun for career spies like you, but for those of us who just want to get the job done and go home, it throws a real wrench in things."

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the singer's expression seemed to soften a little at this last. "All I gotta do now is make it to Constantinople alive and in one piece, and I'm in the clear. Don't fuck it up for me, huh dollface? You go play detectives by yourself, or you can help her, if you're feeling particularly suicidal," she added with a glance to Leo. Estella rose to her feet and gestured towards the door.

"Now, I think you should get the fuck out of my compartment. I got a interview to dress for. If I got any fans left in Germany, they deserve to see me at my best, and I don't trust some of you to keep your hands to yourself while I'm trying to get ready."
 
Mr. Leonard Benjamin, Esq.
Estella Devereaux's Compartment – Mr. Benjamin's Room
@Shiva the Cat @xavierrol @MsBloom​

Jane was right – whether they were connected to the murder or not, the death of the unnamed woman had cast a pall across all their futures. The briefcase that Estella had been partnered with so many times before was now absent, perhaps purposely so, and it, too, had a bearing on their fates. Leo's gaze was drawn to Estella when she mentioned her alibi. For some reason the smirk on her face and the insistence that she keep him quite busy all night stung.

Leo glanced away, the pang spreading across his chest like a fire. The needs of spies and starlets were beyond his world, and he just felt like he needed to get away from it all. Away from this train, away from the brief fantasy he had experienced imagining Stella and he in the north east, meeting each other's families, laughing about that 'one time' they almost lost it all. But fantasies imagined in luggage compartments were not ones that lasted, especially when you had barely met each other.

"Now, I think you should get the fuck out of my compartment," Estella said.

He looked from one woman's eyes to the other. "That is my cue," he said, standing and putting out his cigarette. "Good luck with your fans," he shot a look at Stella, then at Jane, "and your spying…or whatever this is," he waved a hand in her direction. He rubbed his fingertips on his temples and grunted. "I'm going to lie down," he decided.

"You two might survive this if you work together." He did not miss her quip about 'some' of them not keeping their hands off of her, but in his self-absorption thought she was referring to him. "And maybe you'll find you like each other more than you think."

Nodding to each, he opened the door, "Best of luck," and slipped out. As he stood in the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him, he thought of returning to his bed chamber, then saw the door to Alek's room opening and felt a freezing fear take hold of him. If he moved, it would loom more suspicious, yet if he stayed…Leo blinked, straightened his tie, and stepped towards his door.
 
Name: Jane Marple
Location: Lounge Car
@Shiva the Cat @Traveler

It was all getting rather frustrating but it seemed that it would take some experiences of her own for Estella to come to the conclusion that under the current circumstances they all needed each other, whether she liked it or not. But as she also pointed out Jane had other business to tend to. She needed to find Walsh and more importantly that woman with the glasses.
The momentary softening of Estella's face was not lost on Jane when she concluded what she needed to do to be able to get back home. Jane was however less sure that those who had sent the singer on this mission would allow that. She had seen far too many men an women pulled into the game under much the same conditions as Estella's. Just the one mission and you'll be out. Just this one last delivery. Unfortunately circumstances has arisen that we require your services once more. There would be little point in mentioning this at the moment though because Estella was certainly stubborn enough to not take in the pickle she was actually in, or at least stubborn enough to not admit it.
"So be it then, Dollface," Jane retorted when Estella told her and Leo to get the fuck out of her compartment.
She placed a harsh sarcastic emphasis on the word dollface as a signal that she herself did not like the questionable term of endearment.

She stood with Leo and nodded. It was indeed both their cues to leave. Jane did however linger a little after Leo had left to avoid them both being seen leaving the compartment at the same time.
"That's right," she said.
"All you have to do is to make it to Istanbul alive and in one piece, and you're in the clear."
There was a strong hint of sarcasm in the repetition of Estella's statement.
"Just know this. Making it to Istanbul alive and in one piece, With the briefcase in the same condition as yourself, might not be the walk in the park you seem to think it is. Especially not with the Gestapo on board. But I'm sure you already know that don't you."
Jane reached for the door seemingly intending to leave but before she slid the door open she turned once more to look at Estella.
"Whether you like it or not I will be keeping an eye on you to make sure that you, and the briefcase, actually make it to Istanbul, alive and in one piece."
She then left the compartment just in time to see Leo slipping into his own compartment just in time for the Gestapo officer to exit from the count's compartment. She wondered what if anything the count had told the officer, about her, the briefcase or the murder at the Savoy.

Her face made no expression and she did not offer any greetings to the uniformed German but rather slipped out of the sleeping car to find the man she had been tasked to keep an eye on. Was he really as incompetent as he had shown himself to be or could it be that he was actually in league with the false courier, could they have murdered the real courier together in an attempt at getting Jane off their scent? It was possible of course but regardless she had to focus on finding them first. Walsh had been mysteriously invisible for some time now and the spectacled woman would probably not allow herself to be found unless she wanted to. She was probably cooped up in a second class compartment.

As she move towards the first class lounge she almost bumped into a tall rather busty blonde girl who did seem a bit nervous as she hesitated before entering the regular dining car. This was the reason Jane bumped into her.
"Pardonnez Moi," Jane said and took a long but subtle look at the girl.
"Entschuldigen mich," the young girl replied and smiled but the smile did not reach beyond her lips.
 

Reinhard Müller
First Class Lounge Car
@MsBloom​

Reinhard emerged from Count Aleksander's sleeping compartment in time to see Leo leaving Estella's compartment and head towards his own. His eyes followed the Juden and he made no attempt to hide his attention, knowing the man knew his danger and enjoying his reaction to it. Considering another human an enemy of the state made it much easier to justify the cruel treatment he intended for the man despite him not doing anything truly suspicious or even being a serious suspect in the murder he was supposedly here to investigate. Unllike the count, Mr. Benjamin had no powerful friends or status, though his UK passport would ensure at least a diplomatic scuffle, unless of course the accusation against him was something beyond simply being a Jew.

As he headed towards the Lounge car for a brief refreshment, he ran into the lovely blonde he had seen at the station. While he did not know the girl personally, he knew enough about her situation and her role as a Lebensborn to know she could prove useful to him. "Fraulein, what a pleasure to have you traveling with us." Yes she might have been intended to provide a distraction to the diplomatic staff at the Reich's embassy in Constantinople, she was hardly untouchable to a man of his rank. After all, as long as she was bred by a proper Aryan, it mattered little who the actual father was. But he had other plans for her at the moment. "It would be my honor if you would join me for lunch in the first class lounge, in say an hour?" It might sound like a pick up line but there was no hint of a question in his voice as to whether she would join him, only when.

Reinhard had barely selected his table in the lounge as Ms. Eyelesbarrow entered not long after him, alone this time. He had intended to make a few notes and contemplate his next move but the British heiress, if that was indeed her true identity, intrigued him both personally and professionally. Instead of sitting in the chair he had selected he pulled it out for her as she passed. "Lady Eyelesbarrow, perhaps you would join me for a few moments?" His smile seemed to have a flicker of warmth to it as if it was a distant glimmer of the human being Reinhard had once been, before being consumed by the Nazi faith.
 
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Mr. Leonard Benjamin, Esq.
Mr. Benjamin's Room – Common Lounge
@xavierrol​

Try as he might, Leo could not focus on the contracts and readings he had brought with him. After a good forty minutes or so trying to no avail to make his time productive, he gave up. He considered taking a nap, then considered better of it. There would be time for sleep if things went the wrong way.

He hanged his jack away and straightened the vest he wore, checking that his pocket watch and cigarettes were handy, before leaving the room to find the common lounge and dining area. Perhaps if he separated himself from the areas where the wealthy gathered, he could further separate himself from the murder, though the quiet in the room adjacent to his was unsettling.

When he finally made his way through the other sleeping cabins and the first-class lounge, where he had tried to avoid eye contact with Herr Reinhard, he commanded a corner near the bar in the common carriage. There was a comfort in being in a crowd. He ordered a gin and tonic and settled in for a quiet ride, relieved to see that there was no one in the car at the moment who he recognized.
 
Count Aleksander
First Class Lounge Car
@MsBloom, @xavierrol @Traveler @Shiva the Cat
​
A frown escaped Aleksander's face as he emerged from the compartment. He was slow, hesitant in his steps. He was like a man who had just risen from his own coffin now after his encounter with the Nazi dredging up everything he had left behind now. He had expected to deal with it eventually...but not, he thought, like this. His lips twisted sourly, as he thought of Estella and what he had learned...between her and Jane, there were definitely dangerous women aboard this train....

At least it was over for now, he thought. God save him, but his blood was roused and blood was the life...He steadied himself, thinking of Reinhard Muller...he was evidently not done with the man. Perhaps he might need to kill him, but there were far worse things than death...

Still, it left him wandering the halls, wondering about Estella...and all the rest.
 
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