A Date with Danger

I spend the rest of the day compiling a list of passengers with the initials JL and conducting fruitless interviews.  Frustrated I returned to my cabin.  I scan the room having it to myself for the first time.  Crumpled bed sheets, several empty chai cups, and... my bag!  The battered carpet bag is sitting on the veterinarian's bunk half concealed under one of the flimsy pillows.  I rush to it pouring out it's contents onto his bunk. They have obviously been rifled through but I quickly spot my faded passport, my wallet and my antique locket untouched.  A subtle rustling.  I turn.  The stranger is leaning against the doorframe.  Watching.  "Sorry I didn't want interrupt since you seemed so intent.  I got your room number from the concierge.  I thought I make up for breakfast which got caught rather short but perhaps with some overpriced wine instead of watery orange juice."  The rain still pounding on the roof seems to infinitely louder in the moment I hesitate.  Then I give in shoving the mess back into my bag weakly exclaiming "ahh there it is" grabbing a scarf at random for the benefit of my visitor.  I am reluctant to share the mystery with my visitor still unsure of his role in the larger puzzle.  There is an ominous feeling building in the pit of my stomach though it could just be hunger.  The evening actually passes pleasantly enough.  We share the promised pricey bottle of wine and he insists on paying for dinner.  After dinner he suggests returning his room where he claim to have an excellent bottle of whiskey preferable to anything in the bar.  The private compartment has the musky scent which seems to inhabit the entire train but there are a couple of chairs and the bed is on floor, not precariously perched on the wall.  In the corner I spot the strange instrument and asks to play curious as to how works.  A mumbled excuse.  Instead I reach for the phonograph.  He starts "Oh please don't-" but by then it's too late.  The music he claimed he was busy playing the night before is playing on the phonograph.        

Author's Note

Please forgive the fragments and poorly punctuated dialogue.

Reviews

[Stanley Wright]

I read four chapters. Nice stuff. I like noire, especially old black and white films set on trains, so you've caught one of my weaknesses. You write well; you're moving the plot along. The protagonist is clear. I think it's working so far.