It was a long, long night. The guard played games of backgammon with himself most of the time, and he kept shaking his head sadly and sighing, so presumably he was losing. The pale electric light was kept on, and the seat was uncomfortable. Max could only doze in fits. Sometimes she wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming. Was Klaus really at the door, looking wide-eyed and worried at her? Was Celeste really there, shouting furiously at the guard? Was her mother really there, telling her not to ruin her appetite for dinner?

Questions wandered sleepily around her brain, although she was no longer trying to answer them. What were all the other jewels in that suitcase? Was Celeste Celeste, or was she Suzanne – and why had she followed Ester and Klaus? And then there was Rupert – why had he been pushed, and what was the secret behind his phone call, and his strangely empty bag? Ester must be the thief, Max was sure of it, but there were still a lot of things that she didn’t understand.

If she had understood those things, she might not have been quite so relieved when dawn began to break, and brought with it a shadowy skyline of domes and tower blocks and minarets, and the Bosfor delivered her at last to her final destination:

Istanbul.

The sky was a pale yellow, and hung with mist. Max watched it brighten in peace. It was beautiful. Then the station came into sight, and the fuss began.

The train guard had moved on from shaking his head, and now started jerking it instead, to show Max that she was to get up and follow him. Max tried the word “breakfast”, but it got no response. So she sighed, wound her scarves round herself tightly, and followed.

The guard hurried her along at high speed. She craned around as they left, but didn’t see Ester, Klaus, or Celeste-or-Suzanne – it would have been comforting, somehow, to see a face she knew. She missed Marguerite, and she even missed the silly smile of Rupert Nobes.

She had no time to take in Sirkeci station. All she had was an impression of pink and white, and beautiful round glass windows; and then she was being taken through a small door, and up and down stairs, and the noise of the crowds got fainter and fainter.

The guard opened a door, which led to a small dim room. He shook his bulldog folds in greeting at the figure inside, glared at Max once more for luck, and plodded away again to get on with glaring at his next passengers.

The figure in the room nodded at Max, like an egg wobbling on a spoon. Max was finally looking at a familiar face.

“Commandant Le Goff!”