The plans had to be in the case! They simply had to be. But there was no sign of them. Not in the case, not in the violin itself...obviously, someone had gotten to the violin before her. Celeste took a sip of her martini, slowly calming down. This situation called for subtle action, not panic. Panic got people in her line of work killed.
Whoever the enemy was, he'd lifted the rosin from the case as well. Thus, the culprit must be another musician. But who? There were more musicians on this train than in the Parisian Philharmon...
The Parisian Philharmonic! It was the perfect cover for a spy! Who would suspect a simple violinist of working for the government? Celeste leapt from her seat and started toward the club car door. But just as she was making her way out, she found Napoleon Duchamps and a Russian priest blocking her path.