The Criminal Inside

The whistle of the train pierced Jacob's ear and steam swirled about him as he pulled himself aboard. The Madeira-Mamoré Railroad was small and inelegant, but an achievement costing many lives to build and earning it the nickname “The Devil's Railroad.”

The passing scenery included the Madiera and the Mamoré rivers and several smaller tributaries.

Jacob took a seat by a dark-skinned man wearing a turban.

~~~

"You sat on my hand!"

"I did not!"

"Did too--see the mark from your button?"

There was no doubting the way this trip would go.

"Children, please!" A pale man with spectacles set his newspaper down. "Be more careful where you sit, Tommy, and try to be forgiving, Laura."

Laura crossed her arms and shrank to the window side of the seat, almost melting into the woodwork.

~~~

The sky darkened to a dense, leafy green—almost black. Jacob scanned the trees for signs of life. Surely there must be macaws and monkeys hanging around. “Literally,” he mumbled. But then, perhaps they had all run away before the train chugged its way through like a giant, roaring black panther moving faster than they had ever seen. “Are there black panthers in the Amazon?” He made a note to look that up at the library when he got back home.

His seat-mate, whom he'd learned was named Akshay, was in the washroom.

There he was now, beaming, his face dripping with water. “I was warm,” he said.

Jacob nodded. “It is stifling, isn't it? By the way, you're from India, aren't you?”

“Yes, sahib.”

“And what does your name mean? If I'm not asking too many questions.”

“No, no,” Akshay waved his hand, smiling. “It means 'eternal' or 'indestructible.' Parents have a way of wishing for big things for their children.”

“Yes, I suppose so. Though if my name is any indication, I think they believed I would take too much.” Jacob laughed. “Supplanter, it means.”

Akshay nodded. “The twin who took his brother by the heel and stole his birthright.”

Jacob raised his eyebrows. “I think you're right. And do you know as much about the Ama—”

A sudden lurch and squealing breaks interrupted. Jacob and Akshay gripped their seats.

“What in the world . . . ?”

“Perhaps there's a wild beast on the track and they want to prepare it for dinner.” Akshay grinned.

Jacob tried to smile, but failed. Whatever it was, he didn't think it could be good news.

~~~

Laura screamed and landed on the floor, her head knocking against something hard. The train screeched to a stop. She felt dizzy. Her father and Tommy were clinging to the armrests, but then her father knelt down to her level.

“Are you all right?”

“I d-don't know,” she said.

He started pulling her up by the hand.

“Can't,” she murmured. “My head . . .”

He stopped, examining all sides of her head. He touched the back of it, then stared at his hand, which was red with blood. He whipped out a large handkerchief and tied it snugly around Laura's head.

“It will be all the fashion,” said her father, patting Laura on the hand.

“That was Mama's.” Laura frowned. Such a pretty handkerchief that Mama had hand-embroidered with flowers, now stained with blood.

“She would have used it the same way, my dear.”

The cabin door opened and a steward said, “All passengers are instructed to wait for the conductor to come with important announcements.”

~~~

“There has been a murder on the train.”

Gasps and waves of shocked murmurs rippled throughout the car.

“We believe the train has been stopped by the murderer, and he has escaped into the jungle. Policemen are out looking for him. Please remain on the train.”

“For how long?” a man with a bowler hat called out. He had a young boy and a girl with him. Jacob felt for the man.

“We've no idea,” the conductor answered. “We know you have schedules to keep, and hopefully this will only take a little while.”

Jacob sidled over to the man with children. The girl had a handkerchief wrapped around her head.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

The girl blinked up at him, shrinking into the side of her–father, he presumed.

“Where are my manners?” Jacob shook his head. “I'm Jacob Richards.” He stuck his hand out to the father.

“William Westcott,” the man said, smiling beneath a mustache. Patting the top of the girl's head, he added, “This is my daughter, Laura. And my son, Thomas.”

“Nice to meet you all.”

“My daughter had a fall when the train halted,” Mr. Westcott said.

“Sorry to hear it.”

“Quite. Beastly business all 'round.”

“Yes. So, Mr. Westcott, what brings you and your children to this remote place?” Jacob asked.

“Please—call me William. I'm not much older than you are.” William sighed. “Well, it's a business trip for me. The rubber trade, like everyone else, I suppose. I could have left the children home with their nanny in Liverpool, but they begged me to come on this adventure.”

“Never expected a murder!” The boy's eyes shone. “My schoolmates will be jealous!”

Laura made a face. Her freckles stood out against pale skin.

“It does rather seem like an adventure book, doesn't it?” Jacob said. “But it could be dangerous, as well.”

“And murder is nothing to rejoice in, Tommy,” William reproved.

“Of course not,” Tommy said. “But it is exciting.”

Jacob and William shook their heads at each other.

“Wonder what happened,” Tommy said. “Did they use poison or—“

“That's enough,” William said, staring over his spectacles at his son.

“Yes, sir,” Tommy muttered.

The buzz in the car took a while to dissipate. There were travelers of all ages and genders, but mostly men. There were the random biscuits being nibbled and an air of quiet anticipation.

Jacob wondered if his job would still be waiting for him after this debacle was over. Or if the murderer would go free.

~~~

The prisoner was brought in with bites from the Bullet Ant covering his legs. A bit of a repayment for the murderous deed, Jacob thought. The man could hardly stand and had a look of pain on his face as they pulled him along by his handcuffed wrists.

He was a big, boxy fellow with brown hair that flopped in bangs across his forehead.

Jacob was standing in the opening to the train and could have reached out and touched the prisoner had he wanted to. “Why did you do it? Kill an old man?” Jacob spat, his stomach twisting.

The man growled, “Money.”

Money. That commodity which everyone needed to survive . . . but that in this case had resulted in the end of a man's survival.

Tommy, watching the exchange, bumped against Jacob as the train lurched forward. “A real criminal! I hope he hangs by the neck like I've seen in the papers.”

Jacob looked down at Tommy's disgusted face and clenched hands. Then he looked at his own hands, which were mirroring Tommy's.

“A real criminal, yes . . . and we all have it in us,” he whispered.