Olivia looked at him wide-eyed. 'You think - oh, surely not - ' And with a gasp of astonishment, 'You mean - '
'Exactly,' said Vince, opening the carriage door. For once he preferred to be a man of very few words. 'And we would be well-advised to keep such thoughts to ourselves, my dear.'
Chapter 10
The royal carriage allocated to the travellers was comfortable but not luxurious. With the Queen's spartan attitute towards waste and extravagance clearly evident, it resembled a small parlour and only the rigidly anchored seats and table indicated that this was a fast-moving vehicle subject to the vagaries of speed on a railway line. As their journey did not include overnight travel, a bedroom was not at their disposal. The carriage, although part of the train, was private and inaccessible to other passengers boarding at the stations they passed through.
Berwick, Newcastle, Durham, York and so to London where they would be shunted on to a siding to await another train which would deliver them to Dover. There the Wagons-Lits' specially commissioned ferry for the Orient Express would carry the passengers across the English Channel to Calais and then the luxurious and famed Club Train would take them direct to Paris and the Gare de l'Est, to embark on the next stage of their journey.
It sounded simple enough, a smooth-running plan efficiently activated by royal commands issuing from Balmoral courtesy of the telegraph service. Faro hoped it worked, content meanwhile with the opportunity to acquaint himself with his travelling companions, in particular young George.
He was not by nature a nervous man, in fact he carried a lifetime's guarantee in the records of the Edinburgh City Police of being reliably robust in the face of adversity. However, in this instance he exercised extreme caution over the efficiency of arrangements in which he had not been personally involved. Any unscheduled halt of the train and his hand flew by habit and instinct to his pocket for the reassuring presence of the revolver concealed there.
Once, just beyond York, a great hustle ensued, with men rushing alongside the train, up and down the line, shouting at one another. Dieter also carried a weapon and Faro noted his reaction was identical. Both men exchanged glances, with one thought in mind, aware once again of the compartment's few hiding places for the two boys should the worst happen.
There seemed nothing worthy of comment but George had interpreted what might be happening outside. He had also observed the two men's gestures towards their concealed weapons and said in a matter of fact way, 'If there is trouble, I think it would be best if Anton and I lay down on the floor, out of sight.'
'I don't think it will come to that,' said Faro looking at him admiringly. A cool head, twelve years old and no signs of fear. Well done, George.
He looked round the little group, brave indeed. He had expected that the woman Helga might have trembled just a little, but she showed no signs of emotion. All was calm. Nerves of steel.
Afterwards he was to remember the significance of that incident and how George was the only one who anticipated danger.
A guard appeared at the window on the line below them and explained the sudden halt. 'We're off again. Just a cow wandering along the line.'
Anton gave a sigh of relief and sat back in his seat. Perhaps he had been scared after all, as he said to George in German which Faro only partly understood, but got the gist that it was as well that the Inspector and Dieter were armed, for one never knew.
Until the wandering cow incident, Faro had not seriously considered that any attempts would be made to stop George from leaving the country. Now he realised he had responsibility for George and the enigmatic Anton who, he gathered from Dieter, was a remote cousin who had been chosen to accompany George to Glenatholl. 'In case he was lonely and needed a boy of his own age, speaking his own language and from his own background,' explained Dieter, whose English was excellent.
Admirable sentiments, thought Faro, and a splendid opportunity for a paid companion. In the circumstances it seemed inevitable that Anton should also be returned to his own country, although Faro decided he could have been forgiven for wishing to remain in Scotland and continue the expensive education that being companion to the heir of Luxoria had given him.
Anton gave little away. There was a watchful, guarded air about the lad which discouraged Faro's attempts at conversation. Was he homesick and anxious, devoted to George? Both, or neither? Whatever Anton's reasons, there was a distance, perhaps an instinctive resentment as his sullen glance often rested on his cousin. The elder by a couple of years, it was understandable that Anton should be a little envious of the younger boy's privileged position.
Regarding Dieter, Faro could only speculate. He did not enjoy the prospect of his company all the way to Germany. He felt no rapport, no common ground, and knew only that he had met many such bodyguards in his long career. He regarded them guardedly as shady individuals who gave nothing away, and Dieter fitted the pattern, his emotions locked behind an expressionless face.
Yet there was something, Faro suspected, something ruthless behind that cool mask. A mask for the man of instant action, and that should be a source of comfort for here was a man who would kill without hesitation.
Having presumed that the two bodyguards were comrades, once while the two boys were out of earshot in the corridor, he asked Dieter what would happen to Tomas. Would his body be returned to his family in Luxoria after the accident inquest?
Dieter looked at him in surprise, as if such an idea had never entered his head. Without
