Let me tell you more about my inquiry. You already know my fascination with old, haunted houses. As you can imagine, I’ve been searching,carefully, patiently for something that feels right.

At first, I thought the answer might lie in well-known crimes from the 19th century. Visiting old houses is enjoyable, of course, but so far it has led nowhere. Without a story, a trace of darkness, a reason, a house is just a building. The only other option would be to wander through Bucharest aimlessly, hoping that chance alone would lead me to the house. But that requires a kind of luck I don’t possess. And if I did, the story would be far too simple. Maybe too easy… don’t you think?

So I began where everyone begins: with research. Hours spent searching the internet, looking for crimes that might fit, events that left something unresolved behind them. I was certain I would find more than enough material.

I was wrong.

What I believed would be an easy task turned out to be frustratingly difficult. There is surprisingly little information available, as if time itself had chosen to erase certain things. Still, during those first searches, I came across a story. It wasn’t what I had imagined, and it didn’t lead me to a house, but it lingered in my mind.

It was a crime that took place on the Orient Express.
Not Agatha Christie’s story, although it is said her novel may have been inspired by this very event.

The crime happened in 1935. The victim was a Romanian businesswoman, found outside the train, at the edge of an embankment. Her body was discovered by a brakeman from a freight train, lying in a ditch. She was barefoot. There was a deep wound near her right eye, evidence of a struggle. In her hand, she held strands of hair, hair that did not belong to her.

Along the railway, scattered over several kilometers, were her belongings: her shoes, an embroidered scarf, a hat, and a handbag containing her identification papers—Maria Fărcășeanu and her train ticket. Any suggestion of suicide was quickly dismissed. Violence was undeniable.

The autopsy revealed something even more unsettling: she was still alive when she was thrown from the train. Robbery was believed to be the motive. The last train known to have passed through that area was the Orient Express, traveling the route Istanbul–Bucharest–Paris. And so, the investigation began.

They soon discovered that Maria had been carrying considerable wealth: expensive jewelry, a diamond wristwatch, pearls, gold pieces, and a luxurious fur coat. Sometimes, it seems, elegance can be dangerous when it draws the wrong attention.

She was an extraordinary woman,a business owner, the founder of an art school, prominent in her field, officially recognized by the Ministry for her work. She owned the first artisanal shop in the country and exhibited in Paris. A pioneer. A wife. A mother. Beautiful. Independent.

And yet, her life ended violently, in the darkness between stations.

Her death caused a sensation at the time, widely discussed in both the Romanian and Austrian press, made even more shocking by the setting,a train already surrounded by legend. The investigation ultimately concluded that two men had thrown her from the moving train.

But this story doesn’t end here.
It feels like a door only slightly opened.

I’ll tell you more tomorrow.