John and the others had stayed back by the door, following Adele’s quiet motions with her hand to stay put. Now, though, Agent Renee broke from the pack and stalked further into the room. The tall agent’s shadow cast across the floor and he paused, looking down at the young woman. “Did you know Ms. Mayfield?”
For a moment, Ms. Dubot seemed disoriented as she glanced from Adele to John and back. As her eyes landed on the tall, scarred Frenchman she gave a little gasp and sat up a bit more. Adele hid a smirk. Then Ms. Dubot, covering her reaction, cleared her throat. “No,” she said, weakly. “Not at all. I’d never met her before in my life.”
“But you were there when she died,” John said. “Was anyone else in the room?”
The young woman hesitatingly shook her head. “No one. I didn’t see anyone there…”
“Just you and the deceased,” John said skeptically.
The woman seemed to be realizing his inference and her eyes widened all of a sudden. “Wait a moment,” she protested. “It wasn’t like that! Not like that at all!”
“John,” Adele murmured, “careful…”
He just shrugged though, and glanced back at Ms. Dubot. “How did she die? In your words.”
“If it’s not too hard to talk about,” Adele said, trying to be a comforting reprieve from the brunt of John’s personality.
The woman closed her eyes now, and for a moment seemed as if she might have fallen asleep. Then, her eyes still closed, in a shaky voice, she stammered, “I-I went back for my purse. She was just sitting there, drinking her coffee and looking out the window. Then she suddenly jolted, she gasped and tried to grab my arm as if reaching for help…” The woman winced, but, to Adele’s admiration, she pressed on. “Then she fell, jerking a bit, and went still. That’s when I screamed and the conductor was brought to the compartment, and the police were called.”
After she’d finished, her shoulders slumped a bit, as if she’d just shed some heavy load. Adele nodded in gratitude, and John looked like he wanted to press for more, but couldn’t seem to think of what else to ask. “You’re sure no one else was in the compartment?” he said at last.
The woman just shook her head, but then opened her mouth to speak. “Not when she died, but… but before, I did see someone pass by. Didn’t get a good look at them. And, well, it’s a train. A lot of people pass by…” She dwindled off for a moment, and her eyes began to widen. Adele leaned in, hesitant, concerned, and then Ms. Dubot started shaking and trembling, her body jolting.
“Out! Out!” called the receptionist turned nurse. The woman swept into the room, making shooing motions and pressing a red button over the bed, calling, “Dr. Delafosse! Room two! Dr. Delafosee, now!”
The witness continued trembling as if she’d just been dumped into an icy river, and at another angry look from the nurse, Adele and John beat a quiet retreat. A doctor came rushing out of a side room, walking steadily but quickly, passing the agents without so much as a sidelong glance, and then entered into the room, speaking quickly and approaching the patient. “Shock,” the doctor was saying. “It’s a panic attack, nothing more. Ms. Dubot, you’re going to be fine. Can you hear me?”
Then the door was shut and Adele, John, and Allard were left out in the hall. Adele sighed, turning away and glancing up at John. “You didn’t have to go so hard,” she said, frowning.
John sniffed. “She seemed fine enough. We needed more,” he said. “We don’t have anything new to go on. For all we know, if it was murder, Ms. Dubot is the guilty party. She was the last to be seen with the victim alive, by her own admission.”
Adele resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and was aided in catching the gesture by a sudden ring tone from her pocket.
She fished out her phone and recognized the number. Instantly, some of the acerbity she’d been feeling melted like ice. With a quick glance at John, she began walking up the hall back toward the somewhat-sliding doors to the hospital. Once she was a safe enough distance away, she answered.
“Agent Leoni,” she said, smiling and turning to conceal the expression from the two men behind her.
“Adele, how are you?” said the voice on the other end.
In her mind’s eye, Adele pictured the Italian agent’s perfect jaw line, the superman curl of stray hair resting against his forehead. She pictured his immaculately maintained vehicle and the precision in the way he dressed and acted.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked.
Normally, Agent Leoni was easygoing enough, but there was an edge to his tone that caused her to perk up as he said, “I hear you’re on the other end of the train deaths.”
“I was assigned to the case,” she said, slowly. “There was one in Italy, too.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I’m heading up things over here… and I looked into the first death.”
“And?”
“I don’t believe it was natural,” said Agent Leoni in a clipped, somber tone. “Our coroner seems to agree, and is working feverishly to get a toxicology report, but that could take a few days.”
Adele’s mouth felt dry all of a sudden and she glanced back to where John was pretending not to watch her. She frowned slowly. “We don’t have a few days. If this is a serial killer—then they’ve already struck twice. Only with one day separating them.”
“Exactly,” said Leoni. “Which is why I’m calling. If I’m right, we don’t have a few days for a tox report—the killer will strike again. Most likely tomorrow.”
Adele sighed, huffing a breath and shaking her head. “All right,” she said at last. “Thanks for the heads-up. We don’t have any confirmation on our end of a murder, but we only just got here.”
“You do what you think is best, but—”
Adele cut him off. “If you say something is off, then I believe you. What are the odds that two heart attacks on two train lines within two days aren’t linked? We’ll treat this like a proper investigation. Don’t worry. Keep me posted.”
“Of course.”
“Good luck.”
“You too. One other thing,” he said. “Victim one was overheard in an argument with the bartender on the LuccaRail the same night he died. We’re still looking into it. Obviously, a bandying of words isn’t damning evidence, but it is worth noting.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep my ear to the ground,” said Adele.
“And Adele,” Leoni said, chuckling in that confident, understated way of his. “It is a pleasure to be working with you again.”
Adele tried to suppress the threat of a grin, but failed somewhat. “And you,” she said, simply, thinking of the Italian for a moment, remembering how he’d looked, his smile. She shook her head, forcing herself to think of something besides the handsome Italian’s jaw line.
After bidding a final farewell, Agent Leoni hung up, leaving Adele standing in the old hospital with a rising sense of uncertainty in her gut. She frowned after a moment, then glanced back at John. Raising her voice, she said, “We need to get a list of all the first-class passengers on the train at the time. Staff as well.”