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"I hope he doesn't mess everything up. I am very careful about how I pack my bags, and would be terribly upset if things were out of place."
    "I'm sure he will be careful, sir," I said, trying to calm him down. "He is a professional, after all ."
    "There are several books in my bags, rare ornithology novels that I should have taken out. They are first editions, including the only known copy of The Spotted Pilkington and You ! by Georgia Lennox. It took me years to find that book, and now the i nspector is going to ruin it! Oh!"
    I was worried Mr. MacEvoy would have a breakdown, right there in front of us . There were many things I was prepared to deal with, but an adult male crying on my shoulder was not one of them. "Mr. MacEvoy," I said. "I'm sure Inspector Dabruzzi will not damage your book. He will probably not even touch it."
    "Oh, I hope you ’ re right. It was so hard to find, so very, very hard to find."
    " Aaarrrrggggg, " cried Calvin from below the table.
    " Oh, my dear, " said Mrs. Bronwyn. " What is upsetting you so much? "
    The pup was lying flat on his stomach with his front paws stretched in front of him, staring up at Mrs. Bronwyn with big brown eyes.
    " Your dog is making quite a noise, " grumbled Mr. MacEvoy.
    " I can certainly hear that , you old fool. He needs a walk, I’m afraid . We’re supposed to be stopping in Pecan River soon. That is where I had planned to take him for a short walk on the platform. "
    " I don’t think you will be allowed to leave the train, " interjected Willy.
    " I strongly disagree, he simply must! " Mrs. Bronwyn looked a little panicked at Willy’s suggestion. She clearly hadn’t considered that the investigation would interfere with Calvin’s bathroom break. " Look at him . Who could refuse that face? "
    We turned to Calvin, who was cocking his head to one side, desperate to figure out why everyone was giving him so much attention.
    " We’ll ask the i nspector when he comes out, " said Willy. " I’m sure he will be fine with you going out for a few minutes. We’ll be in Pecan River in about twenty minutes. Do you think he can hold it that long? "
    " Oh yes, " added Mrs. Bronwyn. " I’m sure he will be fine. "

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    Thirty minutes later, the i nspector returned to our car. He did not look particularly pleased, at least not to me. One gla n ce at his face told me he had not found the d iamond , not even close.
    "Well?" cried a n anxious Mr. Sloane.
    "I am afraid I have found no trace of the d iamond ," he conceded.
    Mr. Sloane whirled on us. "One of them might have it on them right now!"
    "That is a possibility that we must consider," said the i nspector as he walked further into the room. "Gentlemen, turn out your pockets. Ladies, empty your purses."
    One at a time, everyone in the room emptied their belongings onto the table s in front of them.
    First was Mr. MacEvoy, who took out his wallet from his back pocket and deposited it for everyone to see . From his pocket, a small pile of spare change made an appearance. He patted down the pockets of his jacket to show he had nothing else concealed in any other location.
    "Thank you, Mr. MacEvoy," said the Inspector.
    "I don't have any pockets," said Abigail. She was right. The pants she was wearing did not have any pockets, and neither did her sweater. "All I have is my cell phone."
    The inspector tapped his chin. "And your bag?"
    "It's at my seat. I left it there when I came for breakfast . I'm sure you have already looked through it."
    "Yes, I have," he said, revealing nothing in his tone.
    The next sound we heard was the contents of Mrs. Bronwyn's purse pouring onto the table. All sorts of paraphernalia dumped out of her handbag :  a hanky, a photograph of Calvin with a fake squirrel in his mouth, a change purse , and several stray candies with lint on them. Nothing, however, looked even remotely similar to a diamond.
    "I don't have anything , Inspector, except my cell phone," I offered and showed it to