The dining car held eight tables. Blackwell chose the one at the center, which was wrong strategically and correct in every other way — maximum sightlines to both corridor doors, equidistant from the galley and the forward vestibule, the overhead light brightest by four measurable degrees. He placed his notebook at twelve o'clock. He placed his camera beside it. He sat with his back to the window and waited.
Solano arrived forty seconds later with two cases and a collapsible evidence stand she assembled in the aisle without asking permission, which he noted and said nothing about. She set her laptop open at an angle that faced neither of them directly. Her labeled tray went at her right hand. She sat.
Celestine came last, carrying only her notebook and a cup of tea she had evidently made herself from the galley, because the steward on night duty was asleep in car three and no one had woken him. She placed the tea at the table's edge. She sat. She did not open the notebook.
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