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Count Aleksander's Sleeping Compartment.

Vinaein

Vinaein

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Nov 8, 2020
@Shiva the Cat

Count Aleksander
Aleksander's Sleeping Compartment
@Shiva the Cat @MsBloom

*****​

Aleksander was hardly in the best of moods at the moment and somehow Estella;s reaction was not helping. If she had been remorseless, he might have understood. Offended at his presumption, even. But the way she wriggled and all but begged his help...he didn't care about her and another woman, but there was something to be said for the unfortunate feeling of having been cast aside so quickly, like she had been using him and moving on to someone else. Taking the damn briefcase, however, he stepped back.

He could have shut the door. He should have shut it. Instead, he kept himself there with the briefcase and the answers it might contain....he held to it tightly, his knuckles whitening about it as he detected something important: Estella did not particularly seem to like the woman beside her. Frnakly, that didn't make it much better.

But there he was, with a briefcase that he could not have desired less if it had been stuffed full of garlic and crucifixes. Estella managed to slip from the other woman, promising an explanation. "Don't I? It seems you two are very intimately entwined in one another's business," he added before stepping back with the briefcase. He did not surrender it so easily to Estella, only leading her quickly back to his compartment.

Whereupon he shut the door firmly, making sure it was locked as he still held on to the case, hand at his side. "I would trust you are going to explain to me, honestly, what is going on?" His voice was rather brittle, his frustration evident. "After all, you kept me waiting quite a time. I'd have some explanation now that we are alone again." He pushed the briefcase upon the bed.
 
Estella showed no hesitation in follow Aleks into his compartment. Considering it was farther from Jane's than her own it was even preferable, although she would have liked to change into something a bit more comfortable than the disheveled evening gown, and it wasn't until the Count had shut the door behind them that she realized she had left her shoes behind in Jane's compartment.

No time to worry about that now. She had the briefcase back, that was the important thing. Or at least, Aleks had the case. But surely he wouldn't withhold it from her? She hadn't even managed to take it from Jane by force. The idea of trying to pry it out of the Count's grip was utterly laughable.

Sighing, Estella sank into the seat opposite Aleks' bed. "Do you have a cigarette?" she asked, probably in vain, then ran her fingers through her disheveled hair.

"Look Aleks, I fully intended to...follow through on my earlier offer," she blushed, looking back up at him. "But when you laid me back on the bed, I could feel that briefcase was gone. I had hidden it in the mattress, and it wasn't there," she explained, crossing one leg over the other. "If I could have let it go I would have, but when I knew that bitch had taken it from me--I could smell her perfume, you see, and I knew she'd been in my room--I had do everything I could to get it back."

She paused, and the blush darkened. "Everything," she added. "What you saw...well it was no picnic for me, I promise you that." At best, it was an ice cream cone on the beach; messy and delicious, but over too quickly and still leaving her wanting something else.

"That woman, Jane....whatever her name is. If it really is Eyelesbarrow, I'll eat my hat," Estella continued with a huff. "She works for the British government, I'm sure of it. And I...well, I guess technically I work for the U.S., but not because I want to. And the contents of that case may determine the relationship between her country and mine for the next fifty or so years. We might not be at war now, but in a few months...who knows?"

Pausing, she looked at Aleks with a lingering shadow of momentary doubt. "Aleks, you're a nobleman, right? Do you know anything about English aristocracy?"
 
Count Aleksander
Count Aleksander's Sleeping Compartment
@Shiva the Cat
​
Aleksander stalked back to his compartment, not showing much heed to Estella's state of dress for a moment. He paused and removed his coat to pass to her. Just in case anyone saw, after all. he simply held to the case all the tighter after doing so. Upon the request for a cigarette, he shook his head. "I do not carry cigarettes here and I would prefer my compartment not smell of the smoke.," he admitted. "I typically smoke only for appearances. But I suppose appearances are something you are used to. How much of what you told me was truth and how much was false?"

An offer, she'd said. He took a deep breath, his lips pursed. "...I see," he said in a toneless voice, still frustrated for reasons he had a time time even naming at this juncture. "Yes, no picnic indeed. It seemed like you were loathing every moment of it." He regretted that instantly, instead taking a deeper breath to stabilize himself. "For the US government, then...but not by choice?" Aleksander had worked for a number of other agencies...the US had their own hands in eastern European affairs, not that Estella needed to note that.

"I would assume the contents of your telegram and this Michael are related as well to this whole matter. Would I be incorrect in saying so?" The nobleman drummed his fingers against the case. "It is difficult NOT to know anything about the aristocracy...but I believe the new King is something of a sympathizer to fascists in Germany, is he not?" Something was falling into place for him now...

"We are not devoid of fascist elements in my own land, either, I regret to say," he murmured. "How much of what you told me is a lie, Estella? How did you end up working for English intelligence?" He tilted her chin up to face him. "I believe I have earned some measure of honesty now."

And with that, he set the case dwn before her...though with the caveat that she would know if he wished to take it again, she would be unable to stop him.

But still, it was an offering of trust.
 
Although Estella frowned at Aleks' refusal of a cigarette, she didn't argue. She merely began to twist and tug the string of pearls around her neck, several of which had gotten scratched and curiously dented through her exertions with Jane.

"I haven't lied to you at all, Aleks. I just...didn't tell you quite everything," she began, biting her lower lip. "I really am a singer. Well, more dancing than singing, a lot of the time. I've mostly worked burlesque theaters, and the music...it's sort of a background to the main event." She gestured first to her heaving bosom, then to the case in the Count's hands. "This other stuff with the briefcase, it's just a side gig, you know? If it was up to me I'd have nothing to do with it. I wanted to be in pictures, that would have been enough for me."

The singer let out a wistful sigh, and then her fingers clenched around the pearls. As she spoke, her voice had gradually lost the over-affected poise she had used in public, leaving her with the notable accent of the boroughs of New York. And not the wealthy ones. "But you see, I got a big brother. Eli. He's doing fifty in Sing Sing for espionage. You know about Sing Sing?" Estella paused to glance curiously in Aleks' direction before continuing. "It was a bum rap, a total setup. They did the same thing to my Pop when I was a kid."

She did not elaborate on who 'they' were. "All Eli was trying to do was unionize that crummy shoe factory, and just because of our last name and who our father was, the bastards in charge decided to make an example out of him. My brother never did nothing to nobody! And now he's gonna rot in prison for the rest of his life because some rich assholes didn't like what he was trying to do for other people."

Estella's eyes had taken on a curious shine as she spoke about her brother, and she roughly rubbed the back of her hand against them. "Anyway, a while back I met this fella at a party, a government bigwig. I'll admit, I got a little tipsy, and when we're in bed I tell him the story about Eli the way I'm telling you right now, and the guy takes pity on me. Least, that's what he says." She barked out a laugh. Pity indeed. "He says to me, 'Stella, you do a little favor for me, I'll get your brother out.' And of course I says yes to that. Then one favor turns into another favor, and next thing I know he's got me on a ship to Germany, where he wants me to keep an eye on things in Berlin and report back to him. Then it's Paris, then London, and finally the goddamned Orient Express carrying that fucking thing."

The briefcase, as ever, was silent on the matter. "And Eli is still sitting in prison," she finished, crossing her arms over her chest. "And if I try to come back to the US without wrapping up the business here, I'll end up in the women's division for sure."

"I would assume the contents of your telegram and this Michael are related as well to this whole matter. Would I be incorrect in saying so?" Aleks continued.

She nodded. "Morty Cohen's my agent, but he's also the main guy in touch with that Washington fucker who got me into this whole mess. I don't even want to think about how much he's getting paid to sit on his ass while I'm out here with my neck on the line. Michael's another guy in the same position as me, we've worked together a few times in the past. He's a good fella though, I hope nothing too bad has happened to him. You sure you don't got a cigarette?"

It was a hopeless question, but worth a shot.
 
Count Aleksander
Count Aleksander's Sleeping Compartment
@Shiva the Cat
​
The way she played with the pearls in the state she was in made him frown a touch more. "We call some of that 'lying by omission.' I'm told that's a popular phrase in English as well." He would have been far less angry if not for earlier and finding her with Jane Eyelsbarrow, he thought. Hell, he would have been less angry if he found her with Eyelsbarrow before all of it. "You work in espionage and that's 'a side gig.'" He didn't know much of the movie industry, though he wondered if a burlesque dancer might have a chance in hell of becoming an actress. Maybe similar to the chance of him rising from the dead with a stake of wood shoved through his heart.

But he listened to her, hearing her out all the way through as he let his frustration drain. Her accent was clearly more working class than she had let on, he knew from other Americans had met. "Sing Sing...it seems a curiously...quaint phrase for a rather...brutal prison, no? Unless I have missed my guess." His voice took on a bitter tone. Oh, he knew about prisons. Hjalmar had seen to that."

But something change at the mention of unions. The sympathy he showed there was genuine, earnest. "I see," he said quietly. "For nothing more than trying to guarantee fair treatment for workers." Aleksander had been forced into manual labor before, and he knew the struggles of the working class...the mention of some wealthy would-be aristocrat lording above the workers...as if draining their lifeblood to fuel a miserable existence...

"....And here we are," he said as he looked at the briefcase, with a low sigh. "Yes, that is something..." He wondered about her brother. "People in the government dislike those who bandy in secrets when forced into being assets, I assure you..." At that, he reached to retrieve something more akin to a cigar than a cigarette. "It will have to do, best I have at the moment," he said.

"Was the performance with the Englishwoman really necessary?" He asked, though his tone was less harsh than earlier. He looked at the briefcase. "I'm going to make several assumptions. Your American friends are less certain about the allegiance with the British. After all, King George is recently dead and there are unsavory rumors where the sympathies of King Edward lie...and with the thugs in Germany, that is a dangerous thing indeed....particularly with most focused on the threat of the USSR...." He debated how much to tell her of his own operations...

He knew better than to mention Hjalmar, except now he did smile. "...I suppose I can hardly be the judge here," he said. "...I have contacts in the American government as well, which goes back to...familial ties from the Great War you might say...but while I am not a communist, I am hardly fond of those who would drain away the life of those who build the backbones of nations..." he brought a hand to hers briefly.

His own contacts would align with her interests...and now he had information for them. "I'm no stranger to any of this either."
 
If anything could have brightened Estella's mood, it was the ease with which Aleks seemed to grasp the gravity of her situation. "Yes!" she cried out in relief. "That's it exactly. You ever hear of a woman named Wallis Simpson?" The singer sure wished she never had. "She's some Philly divorceΓ©, an ambitious old broad who's spent the last few years throwing herself at half of Europe, and wouldn't you know it? She bagged old Eddie in the process. Everyone says he's gonna marry her before the year's out, although there's a lot of folks, my bosses included, who ain't happy about it."

"Now, normally I wouldn't fault a gal for looking out for her own best interests, you know?" She almost smiled at that. "But as luck would have it, before she had the king, she had Mussolini's son-in-law, and she was shtupping this von Ribbentrop fella, a real bigwig with the Nazis--" Estella pronounced the word with a grimace on her face, and in that most American fashion naah-zees. "--right up until about Christmas last year. You can read all about it in that briefcase if you want."

This time, Estella really did smile. "I gave you the key, after all. You've still got my bracelet, right?"

"Anyway, this Simpson...it's no secret which side her bread is buttered on. She thinks Hitler's about the greatest thing since the radio, and it sounds like the feeling's mutual. There's even a letter in there where he's inviting Eddie and Mrs. Simpson to honeymoon in Germany. Make a real show of it, you know? And if England forms an alliance with the Nazis, where's that leave America, huh? That's why I gotta get that briefcase into the right hands. There's a lot of guys back in Washington who need to figure out if they need to prepare for war, or plan to assassinate some bitch who couldn't keep her legs closed."

The singer clenched her own thighs at this last remark, recalling with some embarrassment how Aleks had caught her only a short time before her. "As to that Jane woman...for all I know, she's of the same mind as her king. I'd hoped she'd maybe just have taken the briefcase to get my attention. You know, lure me back to her room to have her way with me; it wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened to me. But I think she really was attracted," her voice was just a little bit smug as she voiced this idea. "If she wanted to take me out permanently, I don't think she would have had a problem doing it. You'll want to watch out for that one, she's stronger than she looks."

"...I suppose I can hardly be the judge here," Aleks said, resting his hand over Estella's. His words were kind, and she appreciated the warmth in his touch. But he was still holding onto the briefcase.

"So where does this leave us, Aleks?" she asked quietly. "Are you going to give me back that briefcase, or not?"
 
Count Aleksander
Count Aleksander's Sleeping Compartment
@Shiva the Cat
​
"Wallis Simpson," he echoed. "Yes, the King's lover. There are rumors many of the old aristocacy were unhappy about him taking a woman as a lover and desiring to marry her, being American and divorced..." Things were falling into place. "And she was a fascist as well, no?" He'd heard whispers from other agents as well...after all, was his job not to monitor those elements in conjunction with secret sides of British, Canadian and American intelligence assisting? "...This makes more sense." He was hardly even trying to hide his own background for Estella, he realized...

But what the hell right now. She was unburdening her soul to him. "The affairs of royals often make things more...complex than need be," he said quietly. "If only it could be simpler....you're offering me to look at soemthing that could make a difference? Well, I'll tell you one thing I despise..." he smiled at her. "I cannot stand fascists." He removed the charm from his pocket. "For safekeeping as you said..." he said, holding it with a grin, before frowning at the notion of war...

"So you worry Eyelsbarrow is a fascist or in league with them..." he tried not to think too much of earlier of catching them together. "Was that some ultimatum she gathered you in...?" He put his arm around her delicately as he considered his own works. "The other Englishmen...that Mr. Benjamin and whoever the fellow was Eyelsbarrow was talking to...granted?" He scowled. "Eyelsbarrow won't be fond of ME at the moment...not after I took the briefcase...

"Are you going to give me back that briefcase or not?"

He contemplated it, for just a moment...and with a sigh, he surrendered it, a smile on his face.

"...And where does this leave us?"
 
"So you worry Eyelesbarrow is a fascist or in league with them..." Aleks responded with a strange expression on his face.

Estella shrugged. "I don't know anything about who's side she's on or what she wants. But she was so focused on that case that I can't help but think she must have known about it ahead of time. Why else would she have gone to such lengths to steal it, and to keep me from taking it?" Although the singer supposed Jane might have been fully willing to give it back once she'd had her fun. "She also obviously didn't try to open it, so she must have recognized the lock," she continued, pointing towards the clasp on the top of the briefcase. "Anyone who tries to pick or force that open without the key will trigger a small explosive inside. Not big enough to do any major damage, but enough to destroy the contents. The key's the only safe way to open it."

She paused, tapping her chin a moment. "Then again...if Jane did know about what was inside, and she was a fascist...then she probably would have wanted to destroy it, wouldn't she? Unless..."

Unless Jane knew about Arthur. Maybe it was never about the briefcase at all. Maybe it was as Estella feared from the beginning, that she herself was ultimately the target.

The singer shook her head, trying to forget about that idea. Realizing she had left off in the middle of a sentence, she rushed to complete it with the first idea that came to mind. "Unless the Nazis have some convoluted plan to use that intel to turn the US and Britain against one another, and Jane's just really good at playing mind games."

She tried to laugh off this last remark, but the sound was hollow. Estella would never be sure if that was the reason Aleks did what he did next, but as soon as she felt the weight of the briefcase in her lap, it felt as though the sun was rising again. The singer clutched it tight to her chest, then smiled gratefully up at the Count.

"It leaves me very much in your debt," she murmured, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "And in fact, it gives me an idea..."

Estella brought her lips close to his ear and began to whisper softly. By the time everything was over, the sun was already coming up.
 


Reinhard and the policeman guarding the first class car exchanged Nazi salutes as both men were given access to the car that now was guarded from intrusion. Clearly the Nazi knew Aleks' compartment already and it was fairly disorganized from an obvious search. There was a negro chamber maid present, apparently helping to put his room back in order. "As I'm sure you understand we needed to search the nearby compartments for any evidence. I have taken the liberty of having the staff put things back in order for you Count Aleksander."

Reinhard indicated for Aleks to sit on the bed as he himself remained standing. He essentially ignored the black woman tidying up the room as if she didn't really exist or matter. "If you will please Count, please tell me if you saw or heard anything unusual last night." It was an open ended question which would seem perfectly appropriate to the situation. Though if one were good at reading people, they might notice that the answer to this question wasn't of special importance to the questioner.
 
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Count Aleksander
@xavierrol

The hands of the Nazi s came up sharply in that abhorrent little salute of theirs. Their little 'Heil Hitlers' and everything else. But he decided to play the aristocrat. Hide distaste behind an empty smile and all, he thought. The sight of his compartment made him frown all the more at the realization the damned Nazis had been all over it...he had nothing he thought they could locate, but this put a new wrinkle in the moment...

He took a seat upon the bed, watching Reinhard, his hands folded in his lap as he heard the request. "I saw nothing that could be considered unusual. People went about their business and Madam Devereaux and I were...occupied," he said simply with a shrug. "You understand. I am a great....admirer of her works and we spent the night discussing her future." He kept his eyes on Reinhard, knowing the ins and outs of interrogation...

The man was good. Aleks would have to be careful.
 


"I understand quite well." Reinhard replied as he listened to the count explain that he was with Estella Devereaux all night. "Have you known Fraulein Devereaux before you embarked upon the train and spent last night with her?" He asked, managing to distill the rather abrupt yet shallow nature of their relationship.

"Did you pay her?" He asked, by insinuation calling her a whore, but also giving him an opportunity to defend or impinge her honor.

"Would it surprise you to know she was found in the arms of the Jew at your table this very morning?" He asked, feigning some small sense of discreetness at his revelation as if it were between gentlemen.
 

Count Aleksander
@xavierrol
​
"I am glad to hear you extend your understandings here..." He shrugged lightly, grinning. "I had seen the Fraulein on stage, several times in fact previously...she has a reputation, but we met near to the train and engaged one another here." Truthful, as far as it went, keeping his eyes on the Nazis. He chuckled, as if insulted.

"I do not need to pay women, mein Herr." He looked playfully offended by it....even as he wanted to throw a punch at the insult to Estella, he held it in check. At the mention of the latter, his lips curved downward. "....With a....? You don't say..." his voice grew cold...Estella must have had her reasons, but...

This was news to im and he didn't need to feign being just slightly upset. "...You have told me something I was not aware of, I am afraid...poor taste, no doubt?"
 

"And what is that reputation as you know it?" He asked, burrowing into the Count's responses looking for avenues of pursuit that might lead to more questions either for the Count or for the starlet herself. "It might be safer to pay, on several levels." He suggested, somewhat mimicking the tight restrictions that the Nazi's placed upon brothels after the excessive of the Weimar Republic. Despite their supposed moralistic objection to prostitution, they never truly outlawed the practice but controlled it for their own purposes. Just another facet of Nazi pragmatism that would get much worse in the years to come.

The Count's reaction to his revelation about Leo gave the Nazi a sense of satisfaction, like a boxer making a well placed blow. He could tell it hurt and there was nothing like a hint of betrayal to create an opening. "No doubt." The German agreed, though whose taste was being judged was not stated between them. Reinhard would pull at any strings that presented themselves in regards to Estella, but he had other questions for the minor noble.

"Your family estates, how have they fared in the mongrel experiments with democracy?" He asked next, though he knew from his dossier the geographic location of the count's family estate, what was not in the dossier was how the count was reacting to it, how it affected his political allegiances. The Nazis had been making overtures to the previously banished aristocracy, registering members by their former titles. It was largely ceremonial but appealing to the vanity of the formerly entitled was often effective.
 
Count Aleksander
@xavierrol

​
"And what is that reputation as you know it?" Reinhard had asked, his eyes fixed on the Ciount's. Aleksander resolved to give him no further avenues for attack.

"A reputation for being a wonderful lover and accomplished stage presence, of course..." he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, his smile lingering upon his face. He didn't mention anything further regarding brothels, letting the man's own imagination fill in the blanks. "Safe or not. Men must have standards, don't they?" He smiled, determined to let the men see no more hurt..

After he had to protect Estella now... "The estates have done well for themselves...not as grand as they used to be," he shrugged. "But it's a hard living for everyone these days, is it not? I'm sure they would be receptive to Herr Hitler's overtures, perhaps? Is that what this is about?" he asked with an avaricious look.
 
"And your standard is the well trodden path I suppose?" He said with an assured superiority in his voice as he made known what he thought of the count's standards and the virtue of his performing whore. He would love for the aristocrat to give him an easy excuse to detain him further, there were uses for men like him, but there was of course the question of his loyalties. There was little concrete in his dossier but the kinds of things that suggested someone in the counter intelligence establishment wasn't his friend.

"In hard times the masses crave strength of leadership, many on our borders would like to welcome our FΓΌhrer to share in the glorious Reich." He would dangle that line of discussion as a carrot before brandishing the next stick.

"This is not the first time you have been nearby an unusual death, is it?" His probing left vague and open ended once again but giving Aleks enough to know he was aware of the questionable circumstances around the Countess, his first wife.
 
Count Aleksander
@Vinaein​

The Count gave a short bark of laughter. "Am I being questioned for my preferences in lovers or because you suspect me in a murder investigation, Herr Muller?" He lifted his eyebrow, his hands delicately folded in his lap. "You requested knowledge on my presence the prior evening. I have given it to you. I hardly see where the rest factors in." He watched the eyes of Reinhard Muller cautiously, but giving nothing even so.

"I grew up with the Great War," he said quietly. "No, it is hardly the first time. I have seen a great many die in the fields, Herr Muller..."

He was privately wondering if he might be able to murder the man later and get away with it.
 
"A suspect's overall moral character is always of interest, it speaks to upbringning, though certainly some fall short of even the strictest upbringing." Reinhard didn't share the Count's amusement at the line of questioning. "Perhaps we shall see just how faithful she is in return?"

"Death on the battlefield is not unusual Herr Aleksander." Since the count didn't acknowledge his rank he chose to ignore the title, it was largely meaningless, or soon would be. "But your first wife, her death was not of...natural causes." The count certainly looked like a man capable of murder, especially as he gazed at the Nazi investigator.
 
Count Aleksander
@xavierrol ​

Aleksander's response was to behave like the Nazi before him was simply being dull, his smile only growing as he shrugged. "Yes, yes, moral character, upbringing. I am hardly involved with her for her manners, Herr Muller," he said delicately. "My only interest is she not ruin my good name by consorting with riff raff. Is that so wrong in this...?"

And if the Nazi tried to touch her, Aleksander would kill him personally.

"Hm...no. She was not deceased of natural causes..." his voice ran low briefly, his eyes on the Nazi's blue eyes. "...Not at all. But that was investigated long ago. The culprit was one Hjalmar Werdegast, as you no doubt recall."
 
"Your name isn't that good, at least in the Reich." He responded flippantly, beginning to hint that perhaps the Count shouldn't be quite so confident in his standing. "However, it is safe to say from your response that you cannot vouch for HER character?" He asked, wondering what sort of commitment if any he felt for the performer. His eyes said yes, but his words stayed non-committal, he wondered how long the Count could go with those opposing forces roiling inside of him.

Reinhard laughed despite the seriousness of the Count's tone. "Typical aristocrat, thinking the world hangs on every twist and turn of his sordid life, I recall nothing of your wife's investigation but it was noted in your file. What sort of punishment did this Herr Werdegast receive?" Barely giving the conversation the dignity such would normally deserve when discussing the passing of a loved one. But he was hardly worried about offending the count's feelings.
 
Count Aleksander
@xavierrol
​
This was good. The more the Nazi bastard saw him as a careless aristocrat, the better off he was. Aleksande rgave an airy sigh and a wave of his hand, careless and lackadaisical. "We are judging individuals on character rather than action now? If my woman has strayed, I'll discipline her myself. Or do we need the entire legal force of the Reich for that, too?" Sitting back, he kept his smile.

"...Herr Werdegast received no punishment he did not flee. But you already knew that." He said casually, looking into Muller's eyes. "I'm curious, is the corpse on everyone's lips somehow connected to my past here? Is there something I should know about in relation to all this? It's like dredging around a box full of my homeland soil to sleep in if this is how it's being hurled at me."

He was already thinking how he might get away with killing this man.
 

"Yes, we are. Character leads to actions, we can prevent the latter by judging the former. At least that is what we do in the Reich, where we no longer tolerate the chaos like many of our neighbors to the east. Who your whore sleeps with is of little concern to us, at least until she begins to fornicate with Jews, which she looked very much on the way to do when I interrupted them earlier today."

So the murderer of your Countess received no punishment and you dare criticize justice in the Reich?" It was Reinhard's turn to smile. "I guess you have been cuckolded in both the bedroom and the courtroom." He could see the barely contained rage building in the man. Reinhard didn't blanch at violence and was well prepared for it. The count would join a fairly long line of people that would like to see Reinhard dead, he knew that well enough to keep his back watched. He would not be an easy man to kill.
 
Count Aleksander
@Vinaein
​
"Well," said Aleksander with another shrug. "If my character is on trial here, rest assured you'll find my records impeccable otherwise." He kept his smile from curdling, keeping his eyes upon Reinhard's face. "Though I thank you for acknowledging whom Estella beds is none of your concern. I'm glad we've reached that understanding at least..." He gave a snort, his hands drumming fingers upon his knees. "If you are envious, Herr muller, perhaps I should invite you to one of her shows sometimes...."

He did not let Muller show that he ha struck home, dismissing the rage, not giving the Reich officer an excuse. Herr Werdegast had powerful friends, indeed." He said simply. "No patriotic spirit whatsoever. ow, do you think the dead individual was Hjalmar Werdegast in disguise or are we through?"
 
"On the contrary your excellency, if she is bedding a Jew it is our concern, unless perhaps she is a Jew herself? She has already denied this, but her word is questionable at best, unless you are prepared to vouch for her character, and of her sharing your bed last night. Is that your position Count, that she cannot be the murder as she was with you?" Reinhard was beginning to set his trap for the count, giving him the option of anchoring himself to Estella's guilt or innocence for not just the murder but for the newly created crime of Rassenschande.

Reinhard laughed again at the count's speaking of envy. "Sharing Fraulein Devereaux's bed hardly seems an exclusive club, besides, I shall be arranging a rather private performance with her quite soon." He gave the Romanian aristocrat a knowing smile.

"No Count, I do not believe our murdered woman is Herr Werdegast, but his lack of punishment suggest perhaps he was not the true killer, but that murder is not the one I am here to solve." Reinhard straightened his uniform and prepared to depart. "When are you planning to disembark the train?" He asked as if an afterthought just before opening the door to leave the Count alone with his thoughts.
 
Count Aleksander
@xavierrol
​
Aleksander could sense a trap when he saw one and he recognize the bait Reinhard Muller was placing before him. Not eager to bite, he smiled thinly at the investigator. "We spent the evening in one single room and I vouch for her character." He said, his voice gelid as the winds outside. "More than that is quite irrelevant for the moment, unless you prefer details? I was growing bored with her besides, she's scarcely worth the trouble...

Indeed, indeed this man is dangerous...smart, too...if Estella is found out...


"I dearly hope you enjoy the rest of your day," he said simply not rising to the bait. "Might the rest of us enjoy the meal you interrupted? You should focus on your job. I hear there's a murderer on board the train and your authority ends when it leaves Stuttgart." He smiled there. "Several stops from now, if you must know. I'll give my family your best. And your offer, if indeed you had authority to make it."

He rose when the door closed, beginning to plan out murder.
 
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