Zak stopped reading and Giles, struggling in Raoul's grip, shouted that it was rubbish. Lies. All made up.

Raoul showed signs of breaking Gile's arm on account of him having killed Angelica, who was his wife, even if they had separated.

How could a groom like Ben make up anything like this? Zak said, waving the note. He said it was time someone searched Gile's room on the train for the jewels, and for anything else incriminating.

'You've no right. You've no search warrant. And this man is breaking my arm.'

'You murdered his wife, what do you expect?' Zak said, 'and I don't need a search warrant. I'm chief of the railway detectives, don't forget. On trains, I investigate and search where I like.' He marched off past me and went swaying down the corridor, pausing down at the end of the kitchen wall where he'd left a sports bag full of props, and soon came marching back. The other actors, meanwhile, had been emoting in character over the disclosure of Giles as murderer as well as blackmailer. Zak took the sports bag, it seemed to me by accident, to the table across from the Lorrimores. The people sitting at the table cleared the glasses and empty plates into a stack and Zak, dumping the bag on the pink cloth, unfastened a few zips.

To no one's surprise, he produced the jewels. Mavis was reunited with them, with joy slightly dampened by knowing who had stolen them. Reproachful looks, and so on.

Zak then discovered a folder of papers.

'A-HAH!' he said.

Giles struggled, to no avail.

Zak said, 'Here we have the motive for Angelica's murder. Here's a letter to Giles from Steven, Angelica's lover and business partner, complaining accusingly that he has been checking up, and Giles, in his capacity of bloodstock agent, has not bought the horses that he says he has, that Angelica and Steve have given him the money for. Steve is saying that unless Giles comes up with a very good explanation he is going to the police.'

'Lies,' Giles shouted.

'It's all here.' Zak waved the letter, which everyone later inspected, along with Ben's note. They were accurately written: Zak's props were thorough. 'Giles embezzled Angelica and Steve's money,' he said, 'and when they threatened him with disgrace, he killed them. Then he killed the groom who knew too much. Then he blackmailed Walter Bricknell, who was too fond of his daughter. This man Giles is beneath contempt. I will get the conductor of the train to arrange for him to be arrested and taken away in Revelstoke, where we stop in two hours.'

He walked towards the lobby again.

Giles, finally breaking free of Raoul, snatched a gun that Zak was wearing in a holster on his hip and waved it about. Zak warned, 'Put it down. This gun is loaded.'

Giles shouted at Donna, 'It's all your fault, you shouldn't have confessed. You spoiled it all. And I'll spoil you.'

He pointed the gun at Donna. Pierre leapt in front of her to save her. Giles shot Pierre, who had, it transpired, chosen a romantic shoulder for the affected part. He clapped a hand to his snow-white shirt which suddenly blossomed bright red. He fell artistically.

The audience truly gasped. Donna knelt frantically beside Pierre, having a grand dramatic time. Giles tried to escape and was subdued, none too gently, by Zak and Raoul. George Burley appeared on the scene, chuckling non-stop, waving a pair of stage handcuffs. As Zak later said, it was a riot.

Chapter Seventeen

Emil said there was enough champagne for everyone to have half a glass more, so he and I went around pouring while Oliver and Cathy cleared the hors-d'oeuvre plates, straightened the cloths and began setting the places for the banquet.

I glanced very briefly at Filmer. He looked exceeding pale, with sweat on his forehead. One hand, lying on the tablecloth, was tightly clenched. Beside him, the Redi-Hots were enthusing over Zak who was standing beside their table agreeing that Pierre was a redeemable character who would make good. Zak gave me a smile and stepped to one side to let me fill the Redi-Hots' glasses.

Filmer said, in a harsh croaking voice, 'Where did you get that story?'

As if accepting a compliment, Zak answered, 'Made it up.'

'You must have got it from somewhere.' He was positive, and angry. The Redi-Hots looked at him in surprise.

'I always make them up,' Zak said lightly. 'Why… didn't you enjoy it?'

'Champagne, sir?' I said to Filmer. I'd grown very bold, I thought.

Filmer didn't hear. Mrs Redi-Hots passed me his glass which I replenished. She passed it back. He didn't notice.

'I thought it a great story,' she said. 'What a wicked revolting murderer. And he was so nice all along…'

I stepped around with Zak with a glimmer of eye contact in which I gave him my devout thanks for his discretion, and he accepted them with amusement.

At the next table Rose Young was protesting to Cumber that it had to have been a coincidence about committing suicide after getting rid of your best horse… and Ezra had sold his horse, she said, not given it away because he was being blackmailed.

'How do we know he wasn't?' Cumber demanded.

The Unwins were listening open-mouthed. I filled all their glasses quietly, unnoticed in their general preoccupation.

'Who now has Ezra's horses, that's what I want to know,' Cumber said truculently. 'And it'll be easy enough to find out.' He spoke loudly: loudly enough, I thought, for Filmer to hear him, if he were listening.

Emil had beaten me to it with the Lorrimores, but they made a remarkable picture. Mercer's forearms rested on the table as he sat with his head bowed. Bambi, a glitter of tears in the frosty eyes, stretched out a hand, closed it over one of Mercer's fists, and stroked his knuckles with comforting affection. Xanthe was saying anxiously, 'What's the matter with everybody?' and Sheridan looked blank. Not supercilious, not arrogant, not even alarmed: a wiped blank slate.

There were a good many people in the aisle, not only the service crew but also the actors who, still in character, were finishing off the drama in the ways they felt happy with: Walter and Mavis, for instance, agreeing that Pierre had saved Donna's life and couldn't be all bad, and maybe he would marry Donna… if he stopped gambling.

Threading his way through all this came the sleeping-car attendant on his way to do the bunks in the dome car. He nodded to me with a smile as he passed, and I nodded back: and I thought that my main problem would probably be that the play had been all too successful, and that the people most upset by it wouldn't stay sitting down for dinner.

I wandered back to the kitchen where Angus's octopus act was reaching new heights and hoped especially that Filmer's physical reactions wouldn't get him restlessly to his feet and force him to leave.

He didn't move. The rigidity in his body very slowly relaxed. The impact of the play seemed to be lessening, and perhaps he really believed that Zak had made it all up.

I set the two tables nearest to the kitchen: automatically folded the napkins and arranged knives and forks. The sleeping-car attendant came back eventually from the dome car, and I left my place settings unfinished and followed him.

'Are you sure?' he asked over his shoulder. 'They seem pretty busy in the dining car.'

'It's a good time,' I assured him. 'Fifteen minutes to dinner. How about if I start from this end, then I'll just stop and go back if I feel guilty.'

'Right,' he said. 'Do you remember how to fold the chairs?'

He knocked on Filmer's door.

'The people are all along in the dining car, but knock first just in case,' he said.

'OK.'

We went into Filmer's room.

'Fold the chair while I'm here, so I can help if you need it.'