Murder on the Orion Express

The Constellation Observatory

Miss White acquiesced to Beckett's request to meet in the Constellation Observatory. Beckett could stand Pilkington's office no longer and thought a change of scene might add fresh impetus to the investigation. On the way, he requested a plate of newly baked morning pastries, along with another round of freshly brewed coffee.

"You poor man. No doubt you have been up all night, and then Pilkington asks you to take on the burden of this awful case. Are you sure you wish to continue, Mr Beckett?"

Beckett took up a seat facing out to the stars where the brightness of Betelgeuse was now fading rapidly into the distance. "My dear, Miss White, it is very good of you to think of me. I'm not sure your fellow passengers are so sympathetically inclined towards me."

Sitting beside him, Andrea White's clear, soft skin sparkled in the starlight, giving her an otherworldly, almost goddess-like appearance. "To be honest, with you, I'm not entirely fond of most of the other passengers. In fact ..." at this she lowered her eyes and spoke softly. "In fact, that Virgil Black was the worst of them."

"Perhaps so. Is there something you wish to tell me, Miss White?"

"Yes. I'm no fool. I know how it looks. Everyone thinks that Reggie did it. He's the obvious one. They fought against each other on Chi, they hated each other and even had a row at dinner in front of everyone. But, Mr Beckett, he didn't do it. I know he didn't, you have to believe me."

Beckett bit into a croissant, which was still warm from the oven. He savoured the flavour, it was as good as any he had ever tasted. "You seem very convinced of Mr Weezle's innocence. How can you be so sure?"

At this, Andrea White blushed profusely. "You are the great detective. Do you really need me to tell you? We haven't done a good job of hiding our relationship, have we? Even in this enlightened age, people pass comment when they see a Chian and someone from Earth together; I know they do. We thought we would have more privacy if we kept our relationship a secret, but it didn't exactly work out like that."

Having wiped his mouth with a napkin, Beckett admitted that affairs of the heart were not his forte. "What is your profession, Miss White?" he asked.

"My profession? Well, I'm a teacher. Why is that relevant?"

"Every fact helps to complete the picture. Nothing is irrelevant. It is very unlikely that on the salary of a teacher you could afford a ticket on the Orion Express. I imagine Mr Weezle planned a romantic trip for you both and paid for the two tickets. I am sure he is still held in high regard on Chi and money would be no object for him. Of course, he couldn't be the murderer as you were with him all night, am I correct?"

"Yes, yes and yes! We are very much in love, Beckett. I spent last night with him, as I plan to spend every night for the rest of my life with him."

"I have no doubt you love him. Perhaps even enough to lie for him?"

"How dare you suggest such a thing! We were together all night long, and I know he didn't kill Black, you have to believe me!"

"My apologies, Miss White. I am sure what you are telling me is the truth. Forgive my rudeness, it is an unfortunate consequence of my profession. I can see my questioning has upset you, we will leave it there for now."

Andrea White left abruptly, seemingly upset with the turn the conversation had taken. As fate would have it, Reginald Weezle was the next passenger to come forward. He stormed into the Constellation Observatory in a fury.

"What have you done to Andrea, Beckett? What did you do to upset her so?" An attendant stood on alert at the entrance observing proceedings with interest. Beckett calmly bid him to leave and spoke to Weezle in a most calm manner.

"She loves you very much. She is most concerned that you are the obvious choice as murderer. During our discussion, she made it most plain to me that you could not be guilty."

"I see. Well I love her very much too and I won't see any harm come to her, understand?"

"You make yourself clear. I do not wish to make this more difficult than it needs to be for any of us. Therefore, I will keep this short, Mr Weezle. I have but one question for you. What did you mean by 'I can't rest until he's dead'?"

"What? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Then, let me remind you. I have a talent, some would say an unfortunate talent, for remembering facts. It does on occasion cause me no end of irritation. I clearly recall our first night on board when I, through no fault of my own, overheard you discuss Virgil Black with Miss White. You used those exact words I repeat to you now; 'I can't rest until he's dead.'"

"Look here. I hated Black, everyone knows that. Of course I wanted him dead! In fact, I'd go as far as to say, I'm glad he's gone. Yes, of course I'm relieved he's dead, happy even. I had the motive, I won't deny that, but it doesn't change the fact that I didn't do it and I have an alibi. Maybe I did say those words. Maybe I did even plan to kill him, but I didn't. Wanting to kill someone isn't the same as killing someone."

"You are correct certainly, and I am sure you are not the only person on board who had a dislike of Virgil Black. I will need to continue my conversations, but in the meantime, your frankness has been most illuminating. Now, if you'll excuse me, it has been a most exhausting morning and I really need to retire for a rest."