It was erroneous to say that Mr Grock, director of the Royal Constabulary, felt irritated after he realised the head start he had given the fugitive. He was furious. Although he didn't express it, everybody in the building was aware of the fact and stayed far away from his office, where he shut himself in, smoking as if his life depended on it. A rather bold police inspector went up to the office door and knocked on it.
Within a second, the door opened wide, he was ushered into the seat opposite the director, and now had to endure not just the dense smoke swirling around in the room, but also Grock's hard stare, which made the inspector feel like he was being examined for faults. Finally, Mr Grock spoke, puffing out wisps of smoke from his lips as his deep voice echoed words.
"Where do you suppose they are now?"
"S–Sir? I'm not quite sure what you mean, sir."
"Where do you think Sigerson has fled to?" he asked again, fixing his eyes on the inspector, which, in the dimly lit room, unsettled the poor man slightly.
"I'm not sure, sir. Maybe he's already left the country? He seems to be in touch with the rebels."
"Impossible… Even the fastest train route needs about a week to reach the border. No— I think it is safe to say that he has not left the country yet."
The next few minutes passed with grock murmuring to himself with more puffs of smoke coming profusely from his mouth. Then jumping to his feet as if he had been shocked by a current of electricity, he ordered the inspector, who also jumped at this sudden movement, "Send a telegraph to the sleeper train that departed from Sodor Station that left three days ago; it's a ninety percent chance he'll be on there. Tell them to stop the train and search for Sigerson. I'll make further inquiries elsewhere."
While the harassed inspector ran off to send the message, Grock rose from his seat and left his office, determined to attain favourable results.
"We were searching the places at the wrong time before," he muttered angrily. "That mistake was enough to give Sigerson a day's worth of time ahead of us."
The first thought that came into his mind was to contact the station and confirm Sigerson's presence at the station on that day. Moreover, satisfying his suspicions at last, the messages relayed back to him mentioned him travelling with a lady, most likely his cousin.
"Finally," he said softly, "I know where they are; the only thing left to do is catch them…"
—
Billows of steam came erupting out of the black funnel of the mighty locomotive roaring on the tracks. Sitting with his arms folded, Sigerson gently dozed off while Evelyn kept a careful vigil of the surroundings around them. They had already been travelling for several days without rest. Moonlight streamed in from the curtained window and shone on the polished mahogany wooden beams holding up the bunk bed in their compartment. Evelyn herself tried to stay awake; during the past days, their routine was tediously repetitive. Each day, all they had to do was eat and rest, repeated again and again in a monotonous cycle.
"Is it midnight yet?" asked Sigerson tiredly, opening an eye.
"Nearly— about five minutes until midnight," Evelyn replied, checking the watch.
"Good," yawned Sigerson, closing his eyes once more. "We'll be approaching the outskirts of Huntersberg then."
"You've been on this train before, haven't you, Will?"
"That's right. I've travelled here many times already, so I can confidently say these surroundings are familiar to me as if they were on the back of my hand."
"You seem to know everything, don't you?" asked Evelyn sardonically.
"Not everything," Sigerson replied humbly, smiling for the first time in months. "Besides, you're very intelligent as well; you just need confidence, that's all."
Evelyn blushed at this unexpected compliment and turned her face away quickly. Sigerson watched her, slightly amused at this reaction then said, "I'm heading to the dining car for a light drink."
He rose and left their compartment, remembering to shut the door firmly behind him. Walking past the many compartments and into the dining car, Sigerson picked a seat close to the windows where he kept a careful eye over the changing backgrounds outside. It turned out he wasn't the only one roaming around at night. Two men, one young with neat wavy hair and the other old with a beard like candy floss were whispering covertly with each other.
One of them called for a drink from a nearby steward, while the older man took out a newspaper and flipped through the pages while sipping from a bottle of brandy. He came to a halt and leaned forwards to get closer to his companion. Abruptly closing the newspaper, he whispered across the table, "Revaltian politicians are meeting up with the Custodians, aren't they?"
"No," Ford sighed, "there will only be one politician meeting them in the train at noon."
"It was… No… Do they plan to meet at the station and get on together, or do they only meet up on the train?"
"They'll be entering the train at different stations but come together in a specially designed carriage where their discussion won't be overheard."
The man nodded in understanding, while Ford took his first gulp of cold brandy from his bottle.
"Then when will it happen?" he asked.
"The fourteenth of September. That's tomorrow, if I'm not mistaken."
During their short conversation, even though they were whispering, Sigerson could catch on to every word they were saying.
Tomorrow… Blight said he would meet me at the station tomorrow as well… Is he going to interfere? He knows the tension between the two countries is escalating rapidly… If he wants war, this would be a crucial step to take…
Out of the blue, a great jolt shook the entire train, as it suddenly halted to a stop. In the other carriages, passengers, some confused, some annoyed at the abrupt stop, came flooding out of their compartments, demanding the driver for answers to their never-ending stream of questions. Clearly standing out among the crowd, Ford was still seated in the chair, drinking calmly, while his companion also got up in a confused mess.
"Relax," said Ford in an undertone, "This delay won't take long; once the Enforcers catch up and search the train for the man they're looking for, it will be smooth travelling again. Apparently, the one they're finding fled from Eden a couple of days ago and boarded this train from there. They didn't give me a name but warned me to suspect people who associate themselves with the Constabulary outside of Sodor."
Sneaking away as silently as the wind, Sigerson backed away from the carriage, thinking everything out calmly as the crowd around him showed no signs of settling down. The man who he had just overheard was an official in the government. Sigerson could still clearly picture him in his head, from the polished leather shoes to the bridge of his nose, where a pair of glasses had previously sat on and left a faded mark.
Ford… I've seen him lurking around before at the Royal Constabulary; he must have overheard some of the Enforcers' plans during their meeting… So they're searching for someone who's connected with the police and escaped from Eden on this train? That doesn't sound good… Blight could have easily orchestrated this, since his influence over the government is far greater than anyone realises…
Reaching into his pocket for a matchstick, he lit it and gently swiping it across an expensive silk curtain adorning the carriage window, set the cloth on fire. The match was extinguished before anybody could notice, but the small spark had done its job; it gradually grew and when everybody realised the burning curtain, it was a wild stampede all over again.
As the mass of passengers shoved each other to avoid the flames, which were burning steadily, Sigerson slinked through the crowd unnoticed and reached his compartment with relative ease. Inside, Evelyn, perplexed but alert, sat waiting for him expectantly with everything prepared and ready for travel. As soon as Sigerson entered, she jumped up from the bottom bunk, asking if they were going to escape off the train.
"Just follow me," said Sigerson, swinging the trunk around and reopening the door to allow Evelyn to step out first. "I'll explain as we go."
—
The corridor, although empty, was not entirely devoid of life; eerie echoes resounded from the other carriages into it, making the corridor seem like it was whispering to them. Sigerson guided them through each carriage, finally reaching the emergency exit where, luckily, nobody was around to witness their undercover departure. Into the darkness they went, or rather, jumped. The hostile terrain combined with the pitch black sky created a maze that thoroughly tested Sigerson, for in almost every problem he had faced, the use of his eyes was always available to him.
A completely uncharted trial awaited him--- requiring him to rise and conquer this new experience.