"Welcome to Switzerland. Have a pleasant stay." The customs officer's pink lips curled into a smile and Conrad couldn't help himself but smile back as he pocketed his passport. At least people spoke English as soon as they classified him as a tourist. Never having been to Switzerland before, he was here for the second time within two weeks. Perhaps this time he would find an opportunity to taste the famous chocolate. Or the cheese. Or both, if he found a quiet moment during this hectic chase.

He already knew Zurich airport and the Swiss rail system, and it took him only a few minutes from picking up his luggage to boarding a train to the destination of Bern, the country's capital. It was mid afternoon and he had the luck of travelling in an almost empty train.

After the Egyptian desert, he found the ride through a green country refreshing. Dozens of villages nestled between soft hills and forests coloured golden, red, green and brown in the autumn sun, while in the distance snow-capped mountains reached towards the pale blue sky. No wonder this country attracted masses of tourists from all over the world.

With a sigh, he leaned back, confident he'd outrun Miss Grenville-Temple for good. A pity his guide had been adamant that he leave the key to the hieroglyphs behind in the tomb. The man had been superstitious, insisting the curse of the deceased princess would follow him and his family if anything was stolen. Confronted with the poor man's frightened, wide eyes and desperate pleas, Conrad didn't find the heart to take the key and leave his adversary stranded.

He shook his head. Stupid. As if the pharaoh's curse were a thing. He'd probably blown his chance to get rid of the Temple woman. His google search on her had delivered some interesting results. Fiona Grenville-Temple was a blank sheet, but while searching her, he stumbled about one Paul Grenville-Temple. Could she be related? This would be an intriguing connection to the circles of power. But at this point, he could only guess. Conrad yawned and decided to catch up on his lost sleep.

After an hour of dozing, he woke when the train rattled over a bridge and the loudspeaker announced the arrival in Bern in German, French and English. Looking out the window, he could see the spire of the gothic cathedral. A pity he didn't have the time to visit the historic town labelled a world heritage site by UNESCO. Perhaps he could return once he delivered the treasure to Amanda.

He changed the train to Interlaken, a station teeming with tourists. From there, a short ride along the southern shore of Lake Brienz with the Alps looming over the blue waters brought him to the village of Brienz, capital of woodcarving and his next destination.

Fiona lugged her bag from the conveyor belt and moved to the customs queue. Who would have thought that she would be back in Zurich so soon? At least she encountered no trouble at customs and moved on to the railway station underneath the airport. It was nice to be independent of the whims of a taxi driver for once.

She pulled the drawing she made in the tomb from her pocket and studied the hieroglyphs and pictures for the umpteenth time, unsure if she read them right.

The eagle was a giveaway and the reason she was confident she'd found the right signs. But the emphasis was on the chariot and a symbol above it. The student in the Luxor museum had told her it depicted a brazier and stood for fire. It appeared in combination with the sign for house and a symbol with two rounded hills that meant mountain. Another with three hills meant foreign land according to the egyptologist. Fiona had noted the simple text glyphs down from top to bottom, in the order the golden disk had shown her. Translated, they read H-E-L-V-E-T-I-A. Which seemed straightforward enough. Helvetia, the official name of Switzerland.

The difficult part was the thing about the carriage. The light had been very specific, it shone on the carriage itself, not on the Pharaoh riding it. The combination with the fire symbol made her think of a steam carriage. And when google pointed her to a famous steam train leading to a mountain top in Switzerland, she knew she found her next destination. But what if she was wrong? And what about the house symbol?

At least Swiss railways offered a steady WiFi connection despite the frequent tunnels. She opened the browser on her phone and searched for the site of the Brienzer Rothornbahn, a railway built in 1891. Jackson would have known it if he spent time in Switzerland. Perhaps she could get up there even tonight.

Fiona scrolled to the timetable and uttered a curse. It got her a stern glance from the woman in the seat across and she mumbled an apology. The rail service had been suspended on October the 23rd. She was five days late.

When Conrad climbed from the train in Brienz, the sun bathed the mountain tops in a bright red light. The lake glowed in a mysterious turquoise and he walked the fifty steps from the station to the pier to admire the sunset before he went in search of the historic steam train station. The yellow wooden building nestled against the mountain behind the modern station. But the place seemed abandoned. He walked along the fence to study the two engines standing on the narrow tracks. A man in greasy coveralls worked on the piston rods of one of them with a gigantic wrench.

"Good evening." Conrad didn't bother to try his patchy German. The Swiss seemed to speak English well enough.

The railway man looked up and pushed his cap back. "Evening, sir. Can I help you?"

"Well, I'm not sure. Is it true you're already closed down for the winter season?"

"Yes, last weekend. End of October, we get fewer tourists and the chance of snow and avalanches on the higher slopes rises every day." He stowed his wrench in a side pocket and stretched his back.

"Such a pity. I came here from the States in the hope to see your beauties in action."

The man's face brightened. "They are lovely, aren't they? And such trustworthy working horses. You should see how they climb the steeper parts of the track even in heavy rain or sleet."

"Ah, don't do this. Now I'm even more devastated that I came late." Conrad put on a disappointed face.

"I'm sorry, but there's not much I can do. It's getting late, today, but if you want, I can show you around the shed tomorrow. We're doing the great end-of-season overhaul."

Conrad's thoughts raced. He had to reach the top of the mountain to find the next clue, but then he might gain important information here, too. He made a quick decision. "I'd love to. Can you tell me where I can find a bed for tonight?"

"Oh, there's plenty of places, depends on your taste and budget. You can try the White Cross just over there. Tell them Ueli sent you. I'll be in with a few colleagues for our Friday beer as soon as we finish here. If you want to join a few steam enthusiasts."

"That would be lovely. Thanks a lot—I'm Conrad, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Conrad." Ueli stretched out an oily hand.

Conrad shook it, not hesitating for a second. "Nice to meet you too, Willy."

The other man laughed. "It's Ueli, not Willy. Gives most of you Anglo Saxons a headache, but don't worry, I won't sue you." He winked and went to gather his toolbox.

The owner of the hotel was happy enough to provide Conrad with a room, and he enjoyed a shower before checking how long the climb to the summit would take. Google gave an altitude of 2348 metres for the Rothorn and a walking time of five hours, one way, to climb close to 1800 metres—or 5900 feet. He sighed and switched off his phone. Time to meet his new friend.

Ueli spotted him while he stood on the last step of the stairs leading to the hotel's bar. "Conrad, over here!"

The railway workers were in a good mood and didn't mind an American steam enthusiast joining them. Conrad was glad for the knowledge he gained when staying with his uncle as a kid, an active member of the Northern Illinois Steam Power Club. Half an hour later, he had become a member of the "Dampffreunde", the association of friends of the Brienz Rothorn steam train.

The buzz of the senior train driver's phone interrupted the welcome party. When he returned to the table, he wore a frown.

"What's wrong, Aschi?"

He sat down and placed the phone next to his glass before he started to explain in dialect but switched to English when his eyes fell onto Conrad. "A rich Englishman wants us to do an extra ride for his granddaughter's birthday tomorrow. As if we wouldn't enjoy a weekend off now the season is over."

Several of the men shook their heads. Ueli rubbed his nose. "Did you decline?"

"No, I accepted. With the money he offered, we can rebuild the track switch that troubled us the whole season. So, we need volunteers. Anyone up for another ride if I heat up the boiler in the morning?"

"Sure." Ueli grinned and lifted his glass to Conrad. "I wouldn't mind a co-driver, though."

Fiona enjoyed the walk to the station in the brisk morning air. Grandpa had assured her that a special train would be ready for her at ten. She had enjoyed sleeping in, a long shower, and the choice of several healthy Müesli that seemed to be the heart of a Swiss breakfast. And the fact she had a way to reach the mountain top and her potential adversary didn't. She even found the courage and time to update Nkosi about her search for the Zimbabwean Eagle, just in case. In case of what? Well, anything could happen, right?

A woman in her forties awaited her at the railway station with a bouquet of red roses. "Good morning, Miss Greenville-Temple, and happy birthday!"

Fiona stared at the flowers while her grey matter ran overtime. "Oh, that's so kind of you. Thank you so much." Her birthday was in May. Grandpa's excuse was clever, but he could have warned her. Luckily her work with children had prepared her for surprises long ago.

"We're happy to have you. My name is Alice, and your driver today is Ueli. The mountain restaurant is already closed, so I prepared a thermos with coffee and a few sandwiches for your lunch. It's nothing grand, I'm afraid."

Fiona took the offered lunch bag. "Thank you so much, this is very considerate. I'm so happy to be able to see the view, especially on such a beautiful day."

Alice smiled. "You're welcome. You're lucky with the weather, but the wind up there can be fierce. Shall I give you a blanket for the ride?"

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." Fiona wore the jacket and boots she bought after almost freezing to death in Sweden. While she was tempted to drop the equipment in Egypt, it came in handy now. "When will we leave?"

"In ten minutes at most, as soon as the boiler reaches working temperature. You may already choose a seat."

Fiona followed her to the bright red carriage attached to a small steam engine. A worker in sooty coveralls, blue cap and red kerchief nodded at her. The whole ambiance of the place was late nineteenth or early twentieth century. A pity she had to travel alone today. Her pupils would have adored this train. The thought of home sent a sad twang through her heart.

While Fiona climbed into the carriage, she realised it had no window panes, just heavy curtains that would prevent her from getting wet if it rained. But they would hide the view the train was famous for. Perhaps she should have taken the blanket after all. Was it already too late?

On the way back to the station building, she heard the voices. An Arabic family with three children crowded Alice in front of the ticket office. "But there is a train ready, yes? So, why can't we take it?"

The railway employee shook her head. "This is a private ride. I'm really sorry but we are already closed."

Fiona watched the faces of the children fall when their father explained what he had been told. A girl of eight or nine twirled a lock of black hair around her finger, holding back tears. Her father turned to Fiona. "It is her birthday."

A young Asian couple joined the group of disappointed visitors, and Fiona came to a quick decision. "Alice, please, can I invite them? It will be nice to have company." She turned to the girl. "It's my birthday, too."

Confronted with so many pleading eyes, Alice caved in. She called the train driver who just shrugged. "One or eight, doesn't matter. It's your call, Miss Grenville-Temple."

Happy with her small victory, Fiona ushered her guests to the carriage. Minutes later, the train started to climb the steep track towards the distant summit.

The view over the lake and to the rows of snowy peaks in the south was fantastic, and Fiona, caught in the excitement of her impromptu guests, pushed the thoughts of her quest aside. But when they reached the top station after an hour, her brain switched back into treasure hunter mode.

Ueli opened the carriage doors. "Me and my colleague will be around for the ride back. The walk to the summit is about twenty minutes. Just call me when you're ready."

"That's perfect, thank you." She smiled and followed her guests towards the summit, scanning every rock for something resembling an eagle.

An hour later, Fiona was back at the station. The 360 view over most of Switzerland was magnificent, but she hadn't found a trace of Jackson's clue. Only when her gaze fell on the old engine shed nestling against a rock face did she understand the last part of the hieroglyphic message. A steam train and a house on a mountain. While her new friends queued in front of the station's single unlocked bathroom, she strolled over to the shed, her heart beating faster.

A sign told her the building served as a take away place during the tourist season, but its original purpose must have been to shelter an engine and carriage from the weather. Fiona slipped behind the heavy tarp that served as a makeshift door. The long room was dark, but after Egypt, she knew to carry a flashlight. Its finger of light lingered on tables and benches stacked against the rock behind the buffet counter before it moved to the wooden rafters. There it was—a magnificent eagle carved into a roof beam, and an inscription.

REGINA CAELI
MONS REGIUS
VILLA MARIA
SCHOLA CRYPTA

She snapped a picture with her phone, checked if the writing was readable, and left the shed with a happy grin to assemble her party.

On the way to the restroom, she passed the co-driver who leaned against the carriage. He turned away when he heard her approach, but she got a glimpse of red strands peeking from his woollen cap. A surge of icy suspicion sloshed in her stomach as she passed the man, plastering a grin to her face. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

The stranger nodded, but didn't meet her eye. "Yes, ma'am."

An American accent. This couldn't be a coincidence, could it? It cost her all her willpower to walk on to Aisha, her new friend, and tell her it was time to leave. On the way back, the cogs of her brain ran overtime, but the American was gone. Was she imagining things? If she was wrong, she risked making a fool of herself. If not, she had to react now.

She stopped by the driver who was stowing his tools and raised her voice. "Ueli, can you tell me something about the eagle figure carved into the rock face near the summit?"

"An eagle? I've never seen it. Where have you found it?"

"Right by the stairs behind the restaurant terrace. It looks like something done by an artist and I wondered if you knew by whom." It became obvious her hunch had been spot on when the other man strolled towards the restaurant. Bingo.

Ueli shrugged. "No, sorry. But I must admit I don't get the chance to walk around much while at work. Are we ready to go?"

"Yes, please. Aisha said she is freezing, and she's pregnant. So I think it will be best if we leave as soon as possible." She waved at her group and Aisha's husband ushered the children into the carriage. Ueli handed out blankets. While they settled in, Fiona kept checking for the red-haired stranger. If she was right, he wouldn't be back for a while.

She leaned out of the window. "We're ready. Can we go now, Ueli?"

"Sure, it's just... where has Conrad wandered off to? He promised to be here in time." He blew the steam whistle.

Fiona tried her most convincing smile. "Your American friend with the red hair? He told me he would walk back down a moment ago. He went this way." She pointed to the start of the walking path.

Ueli shrugged. "Huh. Crazy Americans. Well, at least there is no snow and he can make it before nightfall."

A victorious smile spread on Fiona's face when the train chugged forward and her concurrent still wasn't in sight. She would sit in a train to the airport while he still hiked down this mountain.

"Cursed Temple woman." Conrad watched the train leave the station from the restaurant terrace. The bitch had tricked him, and he knew he couldn't run fast enough to stop the engine. His mistake for agreeing with Ueli to not wander off on the danger of being left on the mountain. And he had hoped to just follow her to the clue. But she had done nothing but walk to the summit and back with the other tourists. Where was the blasted eagle?

He turned around his axis, checking for options. Of course, the historic engine shed. He rushed down the stairs and collided with a man like a bear in orange pants and a heavy jacket.

"Hey, langsam, langsam." The construction worker held out a hand to help him up.

Conrad took the offered paw. "Sorry. I didn't know someone else was up here."

"We're preparing the restaurant for the ski season. With the nasty weather forecast for next week, the boss asked us to do a Saturday shift." He scrutinised Conrad's outfit. "Did you walk up here?"

"No, I came with the train, but they left without me due to an emergency. Is there another possibility to get down from here?"

"Depends. You can always walk back to Brienz, but if you want, you can join me and the team in the cable car." He checked his watch. "We have a ride in half an hour. 15 minutes later we will be in Sörenberg. That's down this way."

Conrad let his gaze follow his pointing finger and the massive cables leading to the north, away from the lake. He would have to leave his duffle in Brienz, but he had all the important stuff in his backpack. "Half an hour? That's perfect. I'll fetch my stuff at the station and be right back."

The clue was exactly where he thought it would be. To think he had been bested by that English bitch made him clench his teeth. But an hour later, Conrad sat in the train to Lucerne from where he could reach the airport much faster than his adversary would. Served her right. With a satisfied grin, he studied the picture he had taken of the carving in the shed and opened the browser on his phone.

Regina Caeli meant the queen of heaven—the Virgin Mary. Mons Regis translated as The King's mountain, or Königsberg in German. The town was called Kaliningrad these days. He cursed under his breath. Amanda Lewis would have to pay him far better if he had to travel to Russia, of all places. Villa Maria was an Italian restaurant in Bern, and probably a dozen other towns. This part of the clue seemed useless. He started again. "The Virgin Mary and Mons Regis, for god's sake. Couldn't you find a less desolate place?"

"Desolate?" The young man in a fancy trekking jacket across the aisle addressed him with raised eyebrows. "Only an American would call Montréal a desolate place."

Conrad took in the badge with the red maple leaf on white ground adorning the tourist's backpack.

"Montréal?" A grin spread on his face as he typed Montreal, Canada, and Villa Maria. There was a school of this name in Montreal—and he would reach Zurich airport hours ahead of Fiona Grenville-Temple.