It seemed almost surprising, after she had done and seen so much, that the station should be waiting where she left it, so unruffled and calm. The cream stone looked majestic against the darkening sky, and the windows glowed a gentle gold. She had made it. When they went inside, they found the train already waiting for them on platform six.

Bucharest, thought Max, suddenly exhausted. Bucharest, Istanbul.

8. Budapest to Bucharest

The Ister was almost empty when Max boarded, and it was still almost empty when it pulled out into the inky dark. She and Sister Marguerite had a couchette car to themselves.

What with the long day, her sleepless night and the soothing rhythm of the train, Max was struggling to keep her eyes open, but she had to swap notes with Marguerite before they could sleep. She wolfed down the sandwiches Marguerite had bought, and recited everything she had seen.

“Magnificent work, mon lapin,” said Marguerite, lacing her fingers together and propping up her chin, which Max was now noticing she did whenever she was thinking hard. “You’ve done brilliantly. That tattoo of Klaus’s. Describe it carefully?”

Max described the angry red-and-black tattoo on Klaus’s shoulder.

“Hm. That’s the mark of Die Eiserne Hand – the Iron Hand. Self-styled ‘security experts’ – they’re just a gang of thugs for hire. Vicious lot.”

Max stared at Marguerite. She was suddenly rather glad that her friend was carrying a gun, and began to wish that it was loaded after all.

“So,” said Marguerite brusquely, as if she shared trains with vicious gang members every day, “Klaus is not Ester’s nephew, and he’s an Iron Hand. And Ester tried to sell something today – Marek, Marek and Ruszy are auctioneers, and rather shady ones too. Not above dealing in stolen goods on the sly. This is excellent work, Max.”

Max never knew what to say to compliments, so she just looped a plait around her ear, and said, “What about Rupert?”

Sister Marguerite sighed. “Total washout. He spent the whole day mooning around after that Celeste woman, trying to casually bump into her, finding ways to impress her. Like a lovesick puppy! If he did have criminal intentions when he got on this train, he’s clearly decided that they’re not as important as this schoolboy crush. I think maybe he is just on holiday.” She stitched her fingers together harder than ever. “The one that interests me now, though, is Celeste. At first I couldn’t work out what she was doing. She spent all day just wandering at random and waiting outside buildings and staring. But I began to see what was happening, and now I’ve heard how your day went, I know I’m right. Celeste spent the day following Ester and Klaus.”

“What? Why?”