Destination Murder Read Free Page A

of directors.”
    “That sounds very generous.”
    “Oh, sure, it is. But he designed the model layout to fill up three-quarters of that floor. It’s got both O and HO gauge running on five different levels, a complete set of Micro-Metakit—the engine alone cost over two thousand—plus I don’t know how many miles of track. He’s got most of British Columbia’s rail lines represented, even duplicated the Fraser Canyon down to the muddy river, which rises with rainfall.”
    “That sounds expensive.”
    “That’s putting it mildly. It’s got to have close to a million invested in it, and he says it’s not done yet.”
    “Was all of that the club’s money?”
    “A good portion, but he must have sunk a lot of his own into it, too. Still, once it was finished, it was supposed to go on tour. But when they tried to break it down, they discovered the modules had been made too large; they wouldn’t fit through the door. Instead of a source of pride and joy which all the club members could share in, it ended up Alvin’s own personal toy. Hank is convinced he made it that way on purpose.”
    “I see. But if people are angry with him about it, why not simply elect another president?”
    Reggie finished his drink and motioned for the waitress to bring him another. “I ran for president against Alvin two years ago and got trounced. No matter how much members complain about his high-handed tactics, they realize he owns the building, and they like having such posh headquarters. Not many clubs have anything like it. Besides, he’s put some of his own money into club programs. He’s loaded. Nobody likes him, but they’re not about to get rid of him.”
    With his fresh drink before him, Reggie opened a folder he’d been carrying and said, “Let me run through the train trip itinerary with you.”
    The itinerary had been mailed to me in Cabot Cove and I’d already gone over it, but Reggie seemed determined to explain it to me. We would be three days on the Whistler Northwind and three days in Vancouver. A trip to a local railroad museum was scheduled for the day after our return, as was a club dinner at a local restaurant.
    “Oh, almost forgot,” Reggie said. “We’ll be taking BC Rail’s Pacific Starlight Dinner Train our last night in Vancouver. It was up in the air, but I got a call this evening confirming. It’s not on your itinerary.”
    “Another train, another meal,” I said. “I hope they don’t have a chocolate buffet on it. It was absolutely delicious, but—”
    “A chocolate a day keeps the doctor away.”
    I laughed. “I think you mean an apple.”
    “Do I? I’ll take chocolate any day.”
    We soon left the bar and he escorted me to my tenth-floor suite.
    “Sleep tight,” he said.
    “I’m sure I will,” I said. “It’s well after midnight on my Cabot Cove clock.”
    I dressed for bed and curled up with a bestselling mystery on the couch in the large living room of the suite. But my mind was too active to read. What a shame, I thought, closing the book, that people who share so much, a love of trains and traveling by rail, would have such acrimony within their ranks. I hoped they’d be able to put aside their differences and simply enjoy the three-day journey.
    I got into bed and turned off the light. Various images came and went as my eyes began to close, including a fleeting image of the man who’d collided with me outside the hotel. “Jerk,” I said softly, repeating what the person with the helpful shoulder had said. I smiled and turned my thoughts to the excitement of the excursion ahead. Nothing, not rude pedestrians nor squabbling club members, would spoil my enjoyment of the Whistler Northwind, I promised myself before allowing sleep to engulf me.
    Had I known, however, that the Northwind would soon be the scene of a grisly murder, I might not have been so eager to take that trip.

Chapter Two
     
     
     
     
     
     
    “All aboard!”
    I hadn’t heard that nostalgic summons