Colin gave a short laugh. “This is not in the least what I want from a honeymoon, but I know you must be pacified.”

“Yes, I must.” I looped my arm through his and led him to the platform. He flashed some sort of identification, and within a short while we had conducted a quick but thorough interrogation of stewards and lingering passengers. Our efforts, however, were in vain: no suspicious characters, no overlooked clues, and certainly no breathless confession.

“I can’t escape the feeling we’ve missed something,” I said when, finished, we crossed back through the station.

“It’s possible.” Colin took my hand. “But there’s no harm done, Emily. He might have mislaid the papers himself. There was no sign of forced entry into his compartment.”

“He could have forgotten to lock the door.”

“He’s too competent to have done that.”

“Doesn’t it make you wonder about the chloral hydrate?” I asked. “Perhaps someone dosed his wine, knowing the subsequent commotion would provide an opportunity to snatch the papers.”

“I understand the suspicion, my dear, but why would anyone go to so much trouble to take something that, by all accounts, is of no particular value?”

“Perhaps the papers were not the goal,” I continued. “Perhaps harming Sir Richard was, and the theft was meant to set the investigation on the wrong course. We may be dealing with a matter entirely personal, not professional.”

“We, my dear, are not at present dealing with any matter whatsoever other than enjoying our wedding trip.”

“I just—”

“No, Emily. Let this go. Come. The Golden Horn awaits you.”

Chapter 2