Shi Ting spoke. “The primary suspect is the victim’s newlywed husband. They were traveling together for the first visit to the bride’s family, so both would have been wearing new clothing. Given the victim’s financial means, the groom was most likely dressed in a cotton or woolen Western suit or a long gown — with a Western suit being the more probable choice, since the victim’s belongings included a fountain pen, and only Western suits have a breast pocket.”

Men of means in Xin Guo took formal dress seriously. The affluent would wear bowties or neckties, and any proper jacket was fitted with two pockets. Some used these as handkerchief pockets, folding a decorative square into them — and when no handkerchief was displayed, it was standard practice to clip a fountain pen there instead.

“A fountain pen? Seventh Brother, how do you know he was carrying one?” Bai Jin asked, puzzled.

Shi Ting picked up the scarf that had served as the murder weapon. “I’ve been wondering this whole time what these faint stains on the scarf were. At first I thought they were bloodstains. Then I realized they weren’t — they’re diluted ink.”

Bai Jin took the scarf and examined it again through the magnifying glass. “It does look like ink. But why would there be ink on the scarf?”

“The killer’s work requires regular use of a fountain pen. His hands are perpetually stained with ink. When he strangled the victim, the exertion caused his palms to sweat, which dissolved the dried ink on his fingers and transferred the marks to the scarf. Furthermore, only the victim’s luggage is present in the compartment. The killer almost certainly had his own traveling trunk. We should focus our search on males wearing new woolen or cotton Western suits, with a fountain pen in the breast pocket, carrying a wicker traveling trunk.”

“Understood — I’ll go now.” Investigations stalled without leads to follow. The more identifiers they had, the faster the search would move.

“Director Shi.” Yan Qing looked at the body before them. “The deceased may well have suffered from a psychiatric condition. That won’t help you locate the killer directly, but it may help establish motive.”

“A psychiatric condition?” E Yuan was skeptical. “How could you possibly determine that?”

The woman was already dead.

Yan Qing offered no explanation this time. This proud forensic examiner needed time — time to grow, and time to discover where his limitations lay.

“Director Shi, I’ll return to my compartment now.” Her hands smelled strongly of blood and needed a proper wash.

Shi Ting gave her a brief nod. “Thank you.”

Yan Qing’s wheelchair had barely crossed the cordon when Jing Zhi and Murong hurried toward her. “Miss, what happened in there? Why did Director Shi take you inside and not allow us to follow? Murong and I were beside ourselves with worry.”

“It was nothing. He simply wanted my help examining the body.”

“Was someone really killed?”

“Yes.” Yan Qing said. “Let’s go back to the compartment. The Military Police Division is about to begin questioning passengers.”

After washing her hands, Yan Qing had Murong check the time. There were still fifteen minutes before the train reached Miaodong, the next stop.

If this had happened in modern times, the railway authorities could have been contacted for immediate cooperation. But this was Xin Guo, and the railways were privately owned. Trains opened their doors when they reached a station and departed when time was up — no one was going to set a precedent for anyone’s sake.

Meanwhile, the train’s officers were simultaneously urging passengers preparing to disembark to gather their belongings and assisting the Military Police Division in searching for the suspect.

A sweep of all ten carriages turned up twelve men who fit the profile. Seven of them were traveling with family or friends, and fellow passengers as well as those seated nearby could vouch for them.

That left five: a schoolteacher, a returned foreign student, an unemployed man, and two others — a comprador and a bank clerk.

“Open your trunks and produce your tickets.” Bai Jin swept a glance over the five men who had been gathered into a separate compartment.

The killer, in his haste, had failed to locate the train tickets and bank deposit slip the victim had hidden. That meant he had no ticket on his person. And in his trunk, the victim’s valuables would still be found. With the field of suspects already narrowed, finding the man would not be difficult.

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