The Game by Laurie R. King

to get our bearings before we were shut inside a rattling train car for twenty-four hours, for the northwards journey to Delhi. That idea, however, had died a quick death at the sight of the crowds all along the waterfront: If the remainder of the city was anything like this portion of it, a stay here would not be a restful thing.
    However, it appeared that there was a problem with our onward journey. My luggage was incomplete.
    “What do you mean, ‘incomplete’?” I asked Mr Cook, for whom I had developed an instant and completely unreasonable dislike. He was so polite, I longed to kick his shins.
    “I mean,
memsahib,
that my list says that you, Miss Russell, are the possessor of two small trunks: one from your cabin, the other from the hold, which was sent down to the hold when the ship reached Port Said, and yet there is but the one which was in your cabin. I have had this trunk placed into the baggage car of the train, along with the two trunks of Mr Holmes, but alas, I lack the requisite companion from the hold of the ship.”
    “What’s happened to the other one?”
    “We are endeavouring to determine that,
memsahib
.”
    “Oh Lord, they’ve lost half my things,” I groaned, then was nearly knocked down by a large woman clutching a carpet bag to her chest so tightly that it might have held her virtue. Holmes caught my arm to save me from falling amongst the feet. The shipping agent did not notice, so caught up was he in my accusation.
    The round head shook vigorously. “
Memsahib,
the P. & O. does not lose trunks from the hold.”
    “Then where is it?”
    “We are endeavouring to—”
    “Yes, I know,” I snapped. “Is there some place we can sit out of this heat?”
    “I could, if you wish, have you taken to your train. I will, of course, remain here until the matter is made straight.”
    More likely he would wait until our backs were turned and make off home, I thought sourly, preparing to dig in my heels. But Holmes, to my surprise, agreed. “I can’t see that our presence or absence will make the trunk appear any more rapidly. Mr Cook can be trusted to see the matter through. If necessary we can replace most of what you’ll need in Delhi.”
    The small man practically melted in obsequity. “Oah, yes, sir, I will not sleep until I see the trunk of this good lady. I will personally see that it is delivered by hand to you in Delhi. I will not fail you,” he vowed, then rather spoilt it by adding as an afterthought, “if the trunk is on board the boat.”
    I did not see where else it could be, but I bit back the remark, reminding myself that I had the clothing I had worn on the ship; I would not go naked.
    Although, with my clothes already clinging against my skin as if I’d run several brisk laps through a steam-room, nakedness was not altogether unattractive. Indeed, the very idea of woollens was repugnant. I should miss my revolver, yes, but we had Holmes’ gun, and his box of magic equipment. If ever I needed something warmer than sheer lawn, I would buy it.
    We oozed onto the train, our compartment dim and shuttered against the sun. I headed for the nearest sofa, tripped over a shallow tin tray that someone had abandoned smack in the middle of the floor, and sprawled onto the heat-sticky leather cushions. “Who the hell left that thing there?” I grumbled, neither expecting nor receiving an answer. I wrenched off my topee, threw it across the room in petulance, and lay back, grateful at least that the floor was not tossing underfoot. Yet. After a time, I dashed the damp tendrils of hair from my forehead and told Holmes grimly, “This compartment is far too big for two persons. If our companions are the Goodhearts, I’m warning you now, I shall walk to Delhi.”
    “I believe you’ll find that Mycroft has exerted his authority to grant us solitude.”
    “God, I hope so.”
    At my tone, Holmes turned to look at me. I shut my eyes so I couldn’t see his raised eyebrow.
    “It occurs to