Edgar nodded again.
‘Peter spotted them pushing me around in the playground, calling me names and such. Well, after he caught wind, he took hold of the biggest one of the group by the throat and threatened if he ever laid a finger of me again he would personally drag him from Prague to Moscow and throw him into a Soviet gulag.’
Edgar laughed, his eyebrows peaking like mountain tops. Juraj joined him. ‘Needless to say, after that day they didn’t care to bother me much anymore. Peter was good like that. Always looking out for me. My big brother. And now he is gone, Edgar. Who will look out for me now, I wonder?’ Juraj drifted into a space within his mind and Edgar simply watched him, feeling a slight pit of empathy within his stomach. He could not help but feel regret for the young man, yet at the same time, he knew he had to remain alert and keep his head about him. It would not have been the first time someone had tried to deceive and manipulate his emotions in such a manner.
Suddenly, the train came to a screeching halt. Jolting the pair and the contents of the carriage room lurching forward, the hissing of the engine subdued into a still quiet whilst the train simmered down into an absolute stop.
‘What on earth?’ stammered Juraj, looking from left to right outside the windows, trying to get a look at anything that may praise an indication to the reasoning.
Edgar looked down at his watch. ‘We are about halfway through the expected journey, we must have stopped near Brno.’ He stood and grabbed his green jacket that hung on its wooden hook beside the window. Placing the jacket on, he took out his comb and parted it through his hair, restoring its position to where it had been before the unexpected halt.
‘Come along,’ started Edgar, ‘Grab yours too, we are going to see what all the fuss is about.’ Juraj obliged and likewise dressed in a manner that reflected the state of the cold briskness outside.
As they stepped outside the train’s carriage, Edgar looked towards the front of the train. He could make out an engine and the clambering form of a conductor near the front of the locomotive. His boots crunched into the snow as he stepped off, the clean smooth air filling his lungs in a satisfying manner. They were in the middle of nowhere.
‘What do you think?’ Juraj asked from behind, scuttling to keep up with the detective as he made his way to the left, away from the commotion of bustling in the other direction.
‘I do not know yet,’ Edgar replied. ‘But it seems off, wouldn’t you say?’
Juraj frowned, nervously clutching his jacket and clasping the collar tight by his neck. He shivered underneath. The altitude of the location where they had stopped in their tracks was high and the chill could be felt more significantly so.
‘What if…’ Juraj began, hurrying up to the side of Edgar, who stood taller and straighter than he. ‘Edgar, what say you that this is a ploy, perhaps someone or something is behind this?’
Edgar continued to march towards the backend of the train, to where he met an empty vast space from where it had come.
‘If that was the case Juraj, we would find evidence of sabotage. Don’t you think?’
‘Yes, I suspect so,’ agreed Juraj, who looked around cautiously, desperate to find a hint or suggestion of something awry that could serve as an important clue to assist the detective. Alas, he could find none. ‘Well, Edgar? Is there any?’
Edgar let out a sigh, his breath forming dark clouds that lingered for a moment before dissipating into nothingness within the atmosphere.
‘You are relentless, Juraj. I will give you that. Permit me a moment to look and I shall let you know.’
Juraj bowed his head, ‘Fine, Edgar. I’ll wait here.’
‘Very well, Juraj.’
Edgar lurked behind the back of the train, inspecting the wheels for any knocks, breaks, or damage. All the while, he was acutely aware of his senses, listening for any sign of another person’s approach or contact—well-intentioned or not.
Satisfied that no immediate cause of the train’s stoppage was from behind, Edgar looked beyond the tracks a final time, finding no indication of disruption to the tracks. Walking back towards Juraj, who still dutifully stood, Edgar wrestled within his own mind as to when would be the best time to confront Juraj on the information he had received from Jozef regarding his involvement with the maid of Teralov manor.
Whilst he was keen to uncover and divulge further information that would undoubtedly lend its hand well to becoming one step closer to solving the murder, he was conscious of the delicate nature of the investigation. The political undertone and influence of Baroness Teralova herself had not gone unnoticed within his own mind and without doubt, he would need to tread as carefully through the investigation as he did so now, pacing through the thick snow that met his boots at ankle length.
‘Anything?’ queried Juraj with boyish enthusiasm.
‘Afraid not,’ responded Edgar with an expression of displeasure. ‘If there is foul work at play here we shall have to wait for it to come and meet us. No such sign has greeted me until now.’
Juraj was about to respond, his face frightful and unsure, when the men at the front of the locomotive bellowed towards them with a cry that echoed and reverberated all around the
