4. A Cry in the Night

           TheSimplonOrientExpressarrivedatBelgradeataquartertoninethatevening.Itwasnotduetodepartagainuntil9:15,soPoirotdescendedtotheplatform.Hedidnot,however,remaintherelong.Thecoldwasbitterandthoughtheplatformitselfwasprotected,heavysnowwasfallingoutside.Hereturnedtohiscompartment.Theconductor,whowasontheplatformstampinghisfeetandwavinghisarmstokeepwarm,spoketohim.

           “Yourvaliseshavebeenmoved,Monsieur,tothecompartmentNo.1,thecompartmentofM.Bouc.”

           “ButwhereisM.Bouc,then?”

           “HehasmovedintothecoachfromAthenswhichhasjustbeenputon.”

           Poirotwentinsearchofhisfriend.M.Boucwavedhisprotestationsaside.

           “Itisnothing.Itisnothing.Itismoreconvenientlikethis.YouaregoingthroughtoEngland,soitisbetterthatyoushouldstayinthethroughcoachtoCalais.Me,Iamverywellhere.Itismostpeaceful.ThiscoachisemptysaveformyselfandonelittleGreekdoctor.Ah!myfriend,whatanight!Theysaytherehasnotbeensomuchsnowforyears.Letushopeweshallnotbeheldup.Iamnottoohappyaboutit,Icantellyou.”

           At9:15punctuallythetrainpulledoutofthestation,andshortlyafterwardsPoirotgotup,saidgoodnighttohisfriendandmadehiswayalongthecorridorbackintohisowncoachwhichwasinfrontnexttothediningcar.

           Onthis,theseconddayofthejourney,barrierswerebreakingdown.ColonelArbuthnotwasstandingatthedoorofhiscompartmenttalkingtoMacQueen.

           MacQueenbrokeoffsomethinghewassayingwhenhesawPoirot.Helookedverysurprised.