27. INT. DINING CAR - SAME TIME

The select few people in the dining car are enjoying a late dinner before retiring.

The Parisian buildings and stations speed by.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE (46) eats on the far side of the room alone. He’s dressed in his uniform, safe for the black band wrapped around his upper arm. He eats carefully, watching the other people in the dining car come and go.

Ratchett sits towards the opposite side of the car, a cup of coffee next to all the paperwork spread out on the tabletop; a briefcase sits upright on the floor. He glances up and catches sight of Claude watching a couple pass by him.

RATCHETT: Excuse me?

Claude doesn’t hear him. Ratchett whistles, which attracts the attention of a few other diners; he uncomfortably waves his hand. He begins carefully packing up his papers.

RATCHETT (Mumbling): Honest to God...

He closes the briefcase and moves over towards Claude.

RATCHETT: Excuse me.

Claude looks up as Ratchett sits down. His briefcase is in his lap. Ratchett is still holding it.

RATCHETT: Didn’t your mother ever teach you that staring was rude?

Claude sips the remainder of his water, staring at him through the glass cup.

RATCHETT: Any time you’re ready. Frog.

He looks at Ratchett. Claude clicks his tongue in irritation and speaks.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: It is my job to observe people. And I’ve done it well for thirteen years.

Ratchett takes a raspberry from Claude’s dessert plate and eats it. He’s still holding the briefcase.

RATCHETT (Chewing): What are you, like, Poirit?

INSPECTOR CLAUDE:  Quoi?

Ratchett rolls his eyes and swallows.

RATCHETT: Never mind. But you shouldn’t watch people like that.

Claude glares.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Je comprends ce que vous dites. Yankee.

Ratchett stares back. He holds out his hand to Claude.

RATCHETT: I’m Wilbur Ratchett, by the way.

Claude watches another group of late-eaters on the other side of the car.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Claude.

Ratchett sighs and stands up.

RATCHETT: My condolences, by the way.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Quoi?

Ratchett gestures to the black band on Claude’s arm.

RATCHETT: The band. My condolences.

Claude looks at the band and stands from the table.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Je commence juste à m'habituer à la sensation.

Subtitle: "I’m just getting used to the feel of it."

He leaves the dining car.

Ratchett stands, hands still wrapped around the briefcase. Sighing again, he departs the opposite way.

28. EXT. OUTSIDE PARIS - NIGHT

The train’s wheels turn to a blur as it picks up speed. The locomotive spits smoke from its chimney.

With Paris glowing off in the distance, the Simplon Orient Express’ whistle SCREAMS again.

29. INT. LOUNGE CAR - SAME TIME

The lounge car is similar to the dining car - barely any people in it. Gabriel reads another medical book, and Abigale reads a bright yellow mathematics book towards the middle of the car.

Soft music plays from the piano on the other side of the room.

Gabriel’s eyes darts up from the book at Abigale.

GABRIEL: Excuse me?

Abigale doesn’t respond.

GABRIEL: Excuse me.

She looks up.

ABIGALE: Hm?

GABRIEL: ...were you on the train from London today?

ABIGALE: Why do you ask?

GABRIEL: Small talk.

Abigale turns the page.

ABIGALE: No.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows. He harumphs.

GABRIEL: That’s...considerably rude. I’m just asking for conversation.

Abigale drops the book from her face.

ABIGALE: Are we around any type of society?

GABRIEL: We - no, b -

ABIGALE: Do I have any sort of obligation to speak to you?

GABRIEL: No, but -

ABIGALE: Do you know my name?

Gabriel doesn’t speak. The two sway with the train for a little.

GABRIEL: So you I take it you weren’t on the train from London today?

Abigale brings the book back to her face.

ABIGALE: No.

GABRIEL: Now then...was that so hard?

Abigale briefly looks up from her books and continues reading.

Gabriel clicks his tongue.

GABRIEL: Stay anywhere pleasant?

Abigale harrumphs.

ABIGALE: The Meurice Hotel. Across from Tuileries Garden.

Gabriel nods.

GABRIEL: Why’d you decide to depart Paris today?

ABIGALE: I’m reading.

Gabriel purses his lips.

A beat.

GABRIEL: So you didn’t leave London yesterday, or the day before. Am I correct?

Abigale looks up at him. Her eyelid is twitching slightly.

ABIGALE: Your deduction skills are sublime, Dr. Watson.

GABRIEL: It’s small talk.

A beat.

ABIGALE: Ask my parents. I advocated for staying in London to study.

GABRIEL: That would explain why you’re reading maths.

He pauses.

GABRIEL: Why aren’t you reading something more feminine, like literature?

Abigale drops the book from her face.

ABIGALE: Why aren’t you reading something more masculine, like politics?

Gabriel’s jaw clenches.

GABRIEL: Touché.

He swallows audibly.

GABRIEL: Because I’m studying to become a doctor. I’m going to Constantinople to study Eastern medicine. I’m...actually reading about lacerations right now. It’s quite interesting.

A beat.

GABRIEL: I...I wish I could have some more hands-on experience, but I take what I can get.

Another beat.

GABRIEL: And you?

ABIGALE: I’m studying for an exam with a tutor when I return to London.

Abigale brings the book back to her face and continues reading.

GABRIEL: Shouldn’t you be studying manners for your debut?

She glares at him.

ABIGALE: My legs aren’t open, are they?

Gabriel’s eyes dart down to her waist, as if checking to make sure. He lightly chuckles, uncomfortably, and nods. Abigale is still unimpressed with him.

GABRIEL: How courteous of you.

JASPER (22), Abigale’s older brother, comes from the sleeping car and sits down beside her.

JASPER: Mother has informed me to tell you to go to bed. She wants you well-rested when we pull into Milan tomorrow.

Abigale closes the book and sighs.

ABIGALE: Will she survive if I read in the room?

JASPER: She’s in the dining car with Father. She’ll be upset you’ve stayed up so late, but I can’t force you to sleep.

Abigale nods and stands.

GABRIEL: Excuse me?

The two Benjamin’s ignore him.

ABIGALE: Where’s Michael?

JASPER: He’s taken a sleeping sedative. Dead to the world.

GABRIEL: Hello?

ABIGALE: How upset would he be if I rifled through his things for one of your books?

Jasper places his hands in his lap.

JASPER:  If you reorganize things so it looks like it wasn’t touched, I don’t think he’ll care. I also don’t think you’ll wake him.

ABIGALE: So be somewhat quiet?

JASPER: Yes.

Abigale heads towards the sleeping car and suddenly stops. She turns back and points to Jasper with the book.

ABIGALE: And you get to stay up?

Jasper reveals a big, toothy smile. She frowns, shakes her head, and sighs.

GABRIEL: Evidently so.

The two Benjamin’s ignore him.

ABIGALE: I can’t wait to be older.

Abigale ultimately leaves in the direction of the sleeping car.

Jasper leans forward and offers his hand to Gabriel.

JASPER: Jasper Benjamin.

Gabriel takes Jasper’s hand. He’s looking at Jasper skeptically.

GABRIEL: Gabriel Thomas.

The two lean back into their respective seats; Gabriel goes back to reading, looking slightly uncomfortable with Jasper’s presence. Jasper taps his fingers against his legs for a moment and stands.

JASPER: I...need a drink.

He goes over to the bar. Gabriel goes on reading.

30 INT. DINING CAR - SAME TIME

Ratchett still sits in the corner, pouring over paperwork with a glass of whiskey on the side. David Benjamin and his wife, Susan, sit towards the middle of the car, sipping coffee. Besides them and the staff, no one is in the dining car anymore.

SUSAN: Your ideals are backwards.

DAVID: Susan, please.

Susan places her hands in her lap and looks down at the table.

SUSAN (Whispering): I, I-I just think this is something we should be able to talk about.

DAVID: If the other men at the club found out I was talking to you about this, they’d laugh.

SUSAN: Thank goodness I don’t plan on speaking to them after we return.

David looks at her.

Ratchett looks up briefly before sighing. He takes a sip of whiskey.

DAVID: Sweetheart, it’s nothing. I promise.

Susan sighs.

SUSAN: David, you’re a terrible liar.

David sighs.

A beat.

DAVID: I’ll...tell you in the morning, all right?

SUSAN: No, please give me an idea of what it is. You can at least give me that.

DAVID: Politics and money.

Ratchett SLAMS his hands down on the tabletop.

RATCHETT (Mumbling): God. Fuckin’. Dammit.

He looks towards them.

RATCHETT (Calling): Excuse me?

David and Susan look to him.

RATCHETT (Calling): I’d like to point out that you’re not the only ones here.

DAVID: We’re sorry, sir.

David turns to Susan.

DAVID (Whispering): Susan, I’ll see you in the compartment before I retire, okay?

She purses her lips and nods slowly.

SUSAN: Fine. All right. I’ll see you in the compartment, okay?

David nods, and Susan departs from the carriage. She glances back briefly at David before proceeding out of the dining car.

DAVID: I am sorry, sir, for us being rude.

Ratchett looks at him.

RATCHETT: It’s fine; please, just be a little quieter.

DAVID: Business meeting?

RATCHETT (Sighing): You have no idea.

David stands and goes over to Ratchett’s table. He gestures to the chair.

DAVID: May I...?

Ratchett moves some papers and his whiskey so David can place his coffee on the table without touching the papers. He nods, and David sits.

31. INT. SLEEPING CAR COMPARTMENT - SAME TIME

Abigale returns MICHAEL’s suitcase to the overhead racks. She’s retrieved a book - The Mystery of the Blue Train, by Agatha Christie - turns out the lights, and leaves. Michael is still soundly sleeping, a bottle of sleeping sedatives on the bedside table.

The sound of a door OPENING is nearby.

32. EXT. FRENCH COUNTRYSIDE - SAME TIME

The train’s whistle SCREAMS as it barrels down the track. It speeds passed a small country station before disappearing into the night.

With one final SQUEAL from the whistle, the Simplon train disappears into the darkness of a tunnel.

33 INT. SLEEPING CAR CORRIDOR - SAME TIME

Outside the windows is pitch black. With a WOOSH, the dark countryside comes back.

Susan comes from one end. There’s a quiet BUZZING, and Bellanger appears from the other end of the corridor.

SUSAN: Hello!

Bellanger smiles.

BELLANGER: Bonjour, Madame Benjamin.

SUSAN: Last I saw you, you were ready to board Le Train Bleu in Calais.

BELLANGER: Non, I have been working since then.

SUSAN: Oh, your family must miss you dearly.

BELLANGER: Oui, they do. But I don’t get the chance to write them much because of how busy I am.

Susan stumbles as the train sways.

BELLANGER: But, I do love their letters dearly.

The BUZZING continues.

BELLANGER: Now if you’ll please excuse me, I have duties to attend to.

SUSAN: Oh, yes! I’m so sorry! Listen to me, blithering away when you have work.

Susan moves to the side of the corridor. Bellanger nods and moves passed her to a compartment with a light above the door. He turns it off and knocks.

Susan moves to the other side of the carriage and opens the door. A light is on.

SUSAN: Abigale! You should be asleep.

ABIGALE (O.S.): Mother, calm down. I just -

The door CLICKS shut.

34. EXT. SIGNAL BOX IN THE ITALIAN MOUNTAINS - SAME TIME

A white flag waves gently in the wind.

A group of people dressed in black move over towards the railway points, where the tracks split in two. They go over to a lever with a red octagon sign above it and hold the lever in place as two other men go and cut the chords responsible for keeping the points in place.

With its weight, the lever slowly shifts the other way, and CLANKS into place.

One man pushes the flag into the ground, and the group leaves.

There are several moments of silence before the Simplon’s whistle sounds out.