" The contents of Mr. Hardman’s two “grips” were soon examined and passed. They contained perhaps an undue proportion of spirituous liquor. Mr. Hardman winked. “It’s not often they search your grips at the frontiers—not if you fix the conductor. I handed out a wad of Turkish notes right away, and there’s been no trouble so far.” “And at Paris?” Mr. Hardman winked again. “By the time I get to Paris,” he said, “what’s left over of this little lot will go into a bottle labelled hairwash. "

― Agatha Christie , Murder on the Orient Express (Hercule Poirot, #9)