The Strangers on the Trains.

Emily Watson walked up the steps and entered the grand building. She was there for a meeting but had no idea what it was about. She’s been summoned by the secretary to the section chief, Paul Dickson –Smith. It was a simple message. Be at Room 326 of Intelligence Headquarters on Friday at 10.00am.

She was surprised at how much stricter the security was here than she was used to at the MOD. She had to show her MOD security badge, and then state who she was seeing and in what room, five times before she even got to the lift. Security told her to take the lift to the third floor, turn left and 326 would be just along the corridor on the right.

As she stood alone in the lift, she tried to figure out why she was there. She’d been at the MOD for seven years. She was a research clerk. A good one at that. She had a Master’s degree in Criminal Psychology. She always thought she’d end up working for the Police force, but after a visit from a recruitment officer from the MOD, she’d found herself working for them instead. For the last seven years her job was to research various people from around the world. They would normally be high ranking officials who were likely to end up being in charge of third world countries. The MOD liked to know all about them before they came to power. She’d look at their early childhood, their school career, where they went to college or University, who their friends were, what books they read, what food they ate, even what sexual preferences they had. She also found out everything she could about who they married and why. In short, what made them tick. Once a dossier was finished she would give it to her boss and her next assignment would begin.

The lift door opened at the third floor and Emily was confronted by another burly security guard.

“ID please and name of person you are here to see.”

Once again she showed her MOD security badge.”

“Paul Dickson-Smith in Room 326.”

“Thank you, it’s along the corridor and on the right hand side.”

Emily thanked him and walked down the narrow corridor, looking at the numbers on the doors as she did so. The door to room 326 was open.

She entered, it was empty. It was a small meeting room. There was a table with six chairs around it, a flat screen TV on the side wall, a table underneath it with what looked like a DVD and Video player. Another cabinet stood against the opposite wall with a tray on it containing two bottles of water and four glasses. Emily thought this strange, why have a room with six chairs yet only four glasses?

She put her briefcase down on the table and poured herself a glass of still water, she hated the fizzy stuff.

It was 09.58. She turned and saw a man and a women standing at the door.

“Great, you’re here already, nice and prompt. My name is Paul Dickson-Smith and this is my secretary, Julie Crossley. You must be Emily. Please, take a seat.”

He was just as she had expected him to be, tall and dashing. Grey, well cut and swept back hair with a slim but immaculately manicured moustache. He looked like something out of a 1950’s spy film. She smiled at him and his stern looking and spectacled secretary.

“Thank you.”

Dickson-Smith sat down at the head of the table with the TV screen behind him. His secretary sat beside him.

“Okay, from now on room 326 will become your office. When you return on Monday there will be a desk, PC and all the equipment you need. Julie here will make sure that’s done.”

Julie nodded.

Emily was confused she didn’t have a clue what was going on.

“But Sir, I work for the Ministry of Defence, I’ve got cases that I’m still working on, I can’t just leave all of it and start on a project here.”

“This is not just a project Emily; this is now your full time job. From Monday onwards you work for me here at NCIS. Your old cases are being taken over as we speak.”

Emily wasn’t usually lost for words but this had come as a complete shock and she didn’t know what to say.

“Did your Boss not say anything to you about this?”

“No sir, all I knew was to meet you here today at 10.00am.”

Paul laughed.

“He can be such a wanker sometimes.”

The tension that was in the air quickly disappeared and Emily found herself laughing as well.

“Yes sir, he can be.”

Paul stood up and put his hands on the table.

“Okay before we go any further, there are a couple of things that I need to clarify. Firstly, I may look like a school teacher but I can assure you I’m not, so please call me Paul and not sir. Secondly, this is a promotion for you and you’ve just moved up three pay grades.”

He walked over and shook Emily’s hand.

“So Emily, let’s start again. Welcome to MI6.”

She smiled back.

“Thank you Paul.”

He sat back down again.

“Right then, back to the job. It’s what you are good at, research, and from what I’ve heard you’re the best at what you do. You have a knack for finding out things, things that other people seemed to have missed. That’s why I wanted you and that’s why you’re here.”

“Thank you sir, I mean Paul, but what will it be that I’ll be researching.”

“Don’t jump the gun Emily; I’ll be coming to that in a moment. Julie is the screen set up and the videos all ready to go?”

Julie still never spoke. Just nodded.

“Great, then let’s start.”

Paul picked up a remote control and pointed it at the screen. He pressed “play.” A woman appeared on the screen, she was crying. Paul pressed the pause button.

“Twenty eighth February 1975. At exactly eight fifty six in the morning a train crashed at Moorgate tube station. Forty three people were killed and seventy three were injured. The lady on the screen is one of the survivors and is being interviewed by the BBC.”

He pressed the button and the tape continued. The woman told her story.

“We came into the station and instead of the train slowing down it seemed to get faster, then there was this almighty explosion and everything seemed to be flying through the air. The next thing I remember was being trapped underneath metal and rubble. I couldn’t move. I could hear people screaming and there was a lot of smoke. But I could see a man. He was helping another woman by clearing some of the debris and then helping her out of the carriage. I called out to him and he came over, he got me out, he was a true hero, if it wasn’t for him I don’t think I would be here now.”

The reporter asked her what this hero looked like.

“He had dark hair and a beard and was wearing a big black padded jacket. I would love to find him and thank him.”

She started crying again. Paul paused the tape.

“So we have a woman telling us a story of a man helping her to safety. The story was backed up by another lady that he helped. They were the only two survivors in that carriage, no one else came out alive in that part of the train. The man in the black jacket was never found.”

Emily was intrigued.

“So you want me to research how they survived, maybe their position in the carriage, why them and not the others, or do you want me to find the bearded man?”

“Time for questions in a minute Emily. There’s more.”

He pressed fast forward until there was a man on the screen. Then he paused it.

“Twelfth December 1988. Clapham Junction rail disaster. Thirty five people killed over one hundred injured. This is an interview with one of the survivors.”

The tape continued.

“It was utter chaos, bodies everywhere, thick black smoke, the sound of people screaming out. I was one of the lucky ones; a man with a beard pulled me to safety just before the fire started. If it wasn’t for him I’d be a gonner. “

Paul paused the tape.

“He later goes on to describe the man as bearded in a big black coat.”

Now Emily was really interested.

“So you think there is a connection between these two train crashes. You think the bearded man is the same man even though the crashes are over twenty years apart?”

Paul looked over at Emily.

“Let me show you another one, and then we’ll talk about what your role will be.”

The tape continued. Again Paul fast forwarded it. He stopped it when another man appeared on the screen.

“Nineteenth September 1997. Southall train crash. Six killed and one hundred and fifty injured.Now watch closely.”

A man was being interviewed, his face was bleeding and he was sitting down.

“I’m one of the lucky ones. It could have been much worse if it wasn’t for him. He’s a hero, he is.”

The man never said anything else. He was led away by paramedics.

Paul froze the screen.

“He said, if it wasn’t for HIM!”

Emily wanted to know more.

“Yes, but he didn’t say who.”

“He didn't feel he had to. He said it as though he meant someone close. He didn’t say, for example, THAT MAN, he said HIM. Almost as though he was so close he could point him out.”

Paul pressed another button on the remote. The screen zoomed in on another part of the picture just as the man was being led away. At the bottom of a flight of stairs stood a man. Paul pressed zoom again and another button marked “focus.” The image went from blurred to one that was easy to identify. The man at the bottom of the stairs was wearing a black padded jacket and his head was turned slightly towards the camera. He had a beard.

“So you think that’s the same man, the same man that was involved in the other two crashes.”

“I have no idea Emily, that’s what I want YOU to find out.”

Julie passed him a file. He opened it and took out a photograph. He handed it to Emily.

“This photo was taken by professional photographer who was out taking pictures of wildlife on the marshes. He was the first man on the scene. It was taken on the thirtieth January 1958 on the morning of the Dagenham East rail crash. A train ran into the back of another train and ten people were killed. Emily looked closely at the photograph. Bodies were being lined up beside the train. There was a man carrying someone in his arms and walking away from the burning train. Paul handed her another photo.

“We blew up the section with the man carrying the body.”

Emily took the photograph and looked at it in amazement. The man was wearing a black coat and had a beard. He looked identical to the man who had been at the scene of the Southall train crash in in 1997.

“But this can’t possibly be the same man, there’s a gap of almost forty years.”

Paul stood up.

“NOW you know why you’re here. I need to know what the connection is between all of these crashes. Since 1948 there have been over one hundred British rail crashes all over the UK. We have archive files on just about all of them. Your job is to look at everything to do with them and see if there is any connection. Take your time, no rush. We will have a weekly meeting here every Friday at ten and you can bring me up to speed.”

Julie and Paul left room 326 at 10.23am.