Thomas was reading in the lounge area of the Staff Car. Reclined on a long wooden bench, he did not rise, or even look up from his book, when I approached. 

 

Clearing my throat, I said, “Eh hem, Thomas, may I have a quick word with you?”

 

“You’re the Detective.”, he said, flatly.

 

“That’s correct. I have some questions.” Seeming not to hear me, he turned the page and continued reading. But I pressed on, saying, “It won’t take long. I promise.”

 

 “Ugh, fine.” The clap of his book as he shut it echoed through the car. Motioning for me to sit, I took a spot on the stiff bench next to him. 

 

Close enough to inspect the state of his person, I saw that he was well-groomed with strong features. For how long we had all been awake, much of his youth remained in his face.

 

“I’d like to know where you were earlier this evening, before the shots were fired.”

 

“I was busy doing the job of a servant,” he replied, crossing his arms and staring defiantly at the floor.

 

“Come, Thomas. I need a little more than that. Do you primarily cater to the Stantons’ needs?”

 

He paused, finally saying, “Yes. I rarely have time for other work.”

 

“They are quite demanding?”

 

“They keep me busy.”

 

“And you were busy assisting them last night?”

 

His eyes ran me up and down before he finally answered, “No. Last night, I was dismissed after dinner.”

“When was that?”

 

“6:30.”

 

“Why were you dismissed early? What time do you normally finish your work?”

“When the Stantons go to bed, normally around 11. I was only told that they would be retiring early tonight and to keep this area of the Passenger Car free of foot traffic if possible.”

 

“Oh, you mean the area just outside the vestibule between the Staff and Passenger Cars?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So you were technically still on duty?”

 

“In a way. But I sat and read on this bench.

 

“Did you stop anyone?”

 

“Only Adrien. He was hungry around 11 pm, but I told him he couldn’t leave.”

 

“I see. And did the cook not return to the Staff Car?”

 

“Yes, Gregory did, actually. About two minutes before the shots were fired. I was unable to stop him from traversing the hallway. He entered the Staff Car and went straight to his room. He was in a foul mood.”

 

“Around 1:24?” I asked, remembering the clock I had read after the shots had awoken me.

 

“That sounds about right, yes.”

 

I scanned the car as we spoke. It was a sparsely decorated interior: white walls, brown carpet, and stiff wooden furnishings. He was reading a textbook on the history and practice of archeology. 

But, seeing that I was studying his reading material, he put a hand atop the cover and pulled it toward himself.

 

“Mr. Stanton ever offer to send you to school?”

 

“No. But I have dreams of my own.”

 

“When the shots were fired, what happened then? I assume you were here at your post?”

 

“Yes. It was not long after that Mr. Stanton, himself, threw open the door and told me to give the order to stop the train as quickly as I could.”

 

“Was this the first time you’d seen him since being dismissed.”

 

Thomas did not answer, instead he fidgeted with the sleeve of his white shirt. 

 

I gave him a moment, but, again, he stared at the floor. Gently, I repeated, “When was the last time you saw him, Thomas?”

 

Still looking at his feet, he replied, “I won’t say.”

 

“It is imperative to my investigation…and if you lie to me, there may be significant consequences–consequences that could end your life as a student before it even begins.”

 

His hand tensed atop the book. Grimacing, he sat up tall on the bench. Then, meeting my gaze for the first time and said, “That’s not true!”

 

“It is, Thomas. You must tell me the truth. If I find out otherwise, I will not hesitate to charge you with obstruction. Now tell me, when did you last see Robert?”

 

He studied my expression for a long moment before finally whispering, “From my post here. I saw him through the window a few times, walking the halls of the Passenger Car.”

 

“Was he alone?”

 

“....No…”

 

I waited for him to continue.

 

“Mrs. Stanton was with him.” he whispered.

 

“They were in the halls after dinner?”

 

“They passed through the area a few times.” 

 

“What were they doing?”

“I don’t know. I just know they were moving quietly.”

 

“What did you do after alerting Adrian to stop the train?”

 

“Well… I’ll admit that I left my post to see what the commotion was about. A dead body, Detective. Can you believe it?”

 

“On this train? No; I’m still bewildered as to how it could have happened. Were the Stantons getting along?”

 

“No. They have been arguing for the past few weeks.”

 

“Do you happen to know why?”

“I have some idea….”

 

He looked behind him, toward the vestibule door. Then, continuing in a whisper, he said, “Robert was having an affair. Or, at least, that is what Mrs. Stanton believed.”

 

“Really? With whom?”

 

He drew a deep breath and whispered, “Emilia. It is not surprising given how much time they have spent together on this trip.”

 

“Thomas, this is quite a shock to me. Are you certain that Emilia and Robert were having an affair?”

 

Still whispering, “I can’t say for sure, but I might be in the best position to know. I have seen the two talking in private on many occasions."

 

“I understand. Is there anything else I should know?”

 

“Only that Mrs. Stanton has been furious. She caught on pretty quickly it seems, but it is only recently that she confronted Robert about it.”

 

“How recent?”

 

“Yesterday.”

 

“I see. Thank you for your time, Thomas. I’ll put in a good word for you with Mrs. Stewart. We are longtime friends, and maybe she can find you an apprenticeship of some kind.”

 

“Thank you, Detective.”