The Strangers on the Trains ( Part 2)

Emily sat in room 326 for a further twenty minutes after Paul and his secretary had left. Just trying to let everything sink in. This was the job she’d been waiting for. This wasn't just research, this was much more than that.

She left NCIS and made her way across London to Whitehall and entered her familiar place of work. The security here was much more relaxed that NCIS. The security guard smiled at her and greeted her by her first name. She didn’t even have to show her pass.

Her office was on the fourth floor. An office she shared with two other researchers and her boss David Phillips.

As she entered the office David was the first to greet her.

“How’d it go?”

Emily ignored him and sat at her desk. All paperwork had been cleared and all her personal stuff had been placed in an archive box.

“You bastard David, why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“Whoa, Emily. I didn’t have much choice did I. When Paul Dickson- Smith said he wanted you, what was I supposed to say, NO?”

“You could have warned me.”

“Listen Em, I only got the message two days ago. Then yesterday I get a PX906 form on my desk telling me you were being transferred as of Monday morning. I didn’t have chance to tell you.”

She hated anyone that called her Em. Especially him and especially now. But she put that to one side and smiled.

“Well I suppose I can’t complain, I’m now the same grade as you. And you’re what forty eight? And I’m only thirty one.”

David was taken by surprise.

“What, three pay grades?”

“Yep, so I suppose you’ve done me a favour really.”

Emily picked up her archive box and said goodbye to her fellow researchers. Seven years had gone by so quickly but she was now ready for a new challenge.

Outside Whitehall she flagged down a cab.

“Hoxton?”

“Jump in love, where abouts in Hoxton?”

“Drop me in the square please.”

Twenty minutes and twenty five quid later she was being dropped off in Hoxton Square. It was still only half past twelve. So much had happened in such a short space of time. Her flat was just around the corner in Hoxton Street. She had bought it nine years ago when Hoxton was still a cheap part of East London to live, yet still just on the borders of the city. Now it was a thriving and trendy part of town and the flat was worth four times what she’d paid for it.

She had the ground floor of an old Victorian terraced house. Two good sized bedrooms, large kitchen diner and spacious living room. She also had the use of the small but well maintained garden. She absolutely loved it.

Emily lived alone. Boyfriends had come and gone. Two had actually moved in for a time, but eventually it all fizzled out and they left. No big deal she liked living alone. Well, apart from her beloved ginger cat Yorky.

She sat down in her kitchen and poured herself a large glass of red wine. She hated white, white was for newcomers to wine. Red was the good stuff, for people who were no longer beginners.

Over the weekend she went on line and printed off any information she could about train crashes in the UK. She was amazed at how many there were. She refined her search to Rail crashes 1945 – 1995. There were one hundred and ten “incidents” with over seven hundred deaths. The number of injured ran into the thousands. Since 1995 there had been fifty crashes and nearly ninety deaths.
So her case load would be enormous. Over one hundred and sixty to investigate and that was without anything before 1945. Sunday night she went to bed exhausted but excited at the prospect of her new job.

At 07.45am on Monday morning she was sitting at her desk in room 326. Paul had been true to his word. Everything was in place. A new desk and chair, a PC, lots of stationary and she even had her name on the door. Under the room number was now a small black sign with gold letters on. It read “ Emily Watson.”

She noticed that on the cabinet against the wall that had held the tray of water and glasses a few days before, was a laptop case. She unzipped it and inside was a Sony laptop along with charger. There was also a top of the range Samsung mobile. She turned it on. It rang straightaway, there was a voicemail.

“Hi Emily, it’s Paul. You’ve obviously found the laptop and mobile and from what I’ve been told you’re a bit of an early bird so I’m guessing it’s still before eight o’clock. I’m in room 410 come and see me at eight thirty.”

Emily looked at her watch it was seven fifty eight. She smiled; she was beginning to like Paul Dickson- Smith.

She set up her laptop and put it on charge. At eight fifteen she walked up two flights of stairs and was on the fourth floor. Once again she was met by security. She showed her old ID and asked for room 410.

“Mister Dickson –Smiths office is at the end of the corridor. Then turn left and you’ll find it on the right hand side. Have a good day Miss.”

Another one of her pet hates was being called “Miss”, but dismissed it from her head. It did strike her though that Paul Dickson-Smith was well known in the building.

She found the office and entered. Sitting at her desk was the secretary Julie Crossley. For the very first time she spoke.

“Good morning Miss Watson, go through, he’s expecting you.”

Her voice was soft, yet commanding. Emily made a mental note to keep on the right side of Julie Crossley.

She walked through a doorway and saw Paul sitting at his over- sized desk. His office was enormous. The left hand wall was just one giant bookcase. Floor to ceiling stuffed with books. There was a drinks cabinet, a meeting table with eight chairs, two chesterfield leather sofas, a coffee table with various magazines on it. Even a massive TV screen on one wall.

“Well hello to you and a big warm welcome to the team.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Now, now, what did I tell you on Friday? It’s Paul.”

“Sorry…. Paul.”

“That’s better, sit down, make yourself comfortable and we’ll go through a few things.”

Emily sat down on one of the sofas.

“Coffee?”

“Yes please, just black, no sugar.”

“A woman after my own heart, that’s just how I take it. I bet you prefer red wine to white as well?”

Emily was taken back.

“Yes, but how did you know that?”

“Maybe I’ve just spent too much time in the service; you tend to see things that others don’t.”

He poured two cups of coffee from a filter coffee machine and put each cup on a saucer. He handed one to Emily.

“There you go; I hate mugs, don’t you?”

She did, but was amazed at how he would know that. She suddenly remembered who he reminded her off. It was Errol Flynn the 1940’s actor. She’d seen him in Robin Hood and some kind of pirate film years ago with her parents.

Paul sat opposite her on the other leather sofa.

“So, down to business. Julie will get you anything you want. From archive files to stationary. If it’s something out of the ordinary or something that’s going to cost us serious money then she’ll run it by me first and I’ll decide yes or no. You report to me and no one else. Our work is very important and because of that is very secretive. You discuss your findings with me only. All okay so far?”

“Yes, exactly as it should be.”

“Good, then let’s talk about your role. Have you had any thoughts on it over the weekend?”

Emily put down her cup and saucer on the table.

“Since the end of the second world war there have been one hundred and sixty train crashes in the UK causing over seven hundred deaths. That’s without the London bombings in 2009 and the Bethnal Green tube disaster in 1943 which between them took over two hundred lives.”

“Good work Emily and what’s your point?”

“I think that we have come a long way since 1945. In fact we’ve come a long way in the past twenty years. We now have forensics and DNA. We are also a lot more aware of things like terrorism than we were back then. If there is a train crash now, and an explosion, the first thing on everyone’s mind is Bomb and Terrorist. Years ago we would have thought, driver error, signal failure, weather conditions or simply accident.”

“Yes, so far so good, and?”

“Well, I have a couple of theories. I may be wide of the mark but I think you want me to find out if any of the old rail crashes were of a terrorist nature. Perhaps terrorism in this country started a long time ago.”

“Bravo, but what about the man in the black jacket and the beard?”

“It could have been some kind of uniform by the terrorists. They dressed the same and maybe because of religion they all had beards?”

“So why would they stay to help people if they were responsible for blowing them up in the first place?”

“That’s the bit I’m not sure of. But It do have a second theory.”

“I thought you might Emily. I would have been disappointed if you didn’t.”

“I kept thinking why trains? Why not houses or buildings or other places with lots of people, like football matches or pop concerts? I think it’s because trains move. It’s a form of transport. What if these people in black jackets and beards were transporting something from A to B. Something volatile, explosive, that went off accidentally? It wasn’t supposed to kill the innocent people on the trains therefore they felt guilty and stayed to help.”

“Ahh but, if the man in the black jacket was carrying this substance surely he would have been killed as well.”

“Not necessarily. What if there were always two or three of these guys on the train. Each in separate compartments but all carrying the substance. If one went off the other two may still be okay.”

Paul clapped his hands.

“Brilliant Emily, just brilliant.”

“Am I right then?”

He finished his coffee and went over to the machine and re-filled his cup. Then returned to the sofa.

“I have no idea. But that’s the best theory I’ve heard in a long time and it only took you two days. I have had others working on it for the past twelve years, they got nowhere, and in the end they moved on. But you Emily, have just come up with something that is totally plausible. It may not be right, but it’s a start.”

“Thank you. It is only a theory.”

“And it’s a good one. So speak with Julie, get everything you need and then see where it takes you. Come to my office every Friday at eight thirty and we’ll de-brief. Okay?”

Paul stood up and Emily realised that their meeting was over. She thanked him and walked out of the office eager to start her research. She wondered where it would take her.