The Strangers on the Trains ( Part 3)

Emily sat at her desk and switched on her PC. She sent Julie an Email asking for a large whiteboard and a large notice board. She was a firm believer in writing things up in big letters and putting things on boards. An old boss of hers had once told her “The more you look the more you’ll see.” She’d lived by that rule all her life.

She’d once had to research a top official in Nigeria. She pinned a large photograph of him and his family posing in their garden onto a notice board and looked at it every day. She was struggling to get close to him. He seemed to have no hobbies, no close friends, even his family were like strangers to him. He was a Colonel in the Nigerian Special Forces and a very secretive man. It was obvious that he was destined for high office. The powers that be were sure he would become very important in the running of the country and might even become President one day. After six weeks of staring at the photo every day, she saw something. Something so obvious yet no one had picked up on it.

Emily noticed that two of the children in the photo were holding kittens. In the background of the photo, on the steps of their house was another cat. She also noticed that in the bushes beyond the swimming pool were another two cats playing. This guy had a thing for cats. He hated everyone, including his family, but adored cats.
She finished her dossier on the Colonel and made reference to the fact that he was a cat lover. She was told later that when the foreign secretary went to visit him after he became President, he took him a present. A rare breed kitten. It was said that the two of them became good friends.

She sent Julie an Email asking for five case files.

16th March 1951. Doncaster Rail crash. 14 Dead
2nd December 1955. Barnes Rail crash. 13 Dead
26th December 1962. Coppenhall Junction Crash. 18 Dead.
6th July 1978. Taunton Rail Fire. 12 Dead
26th July 1986. Lockington Rail Crash. 9 Dead

Emily chose these five for a number of reasons. They all appeared to be “crashes” caused either by signal failure or human error. All had an explosion and all had fatalities. Deaths meant enquiries and enquiries meant reports, reports would contain interviews, and interviews meant lots of information.

By ten o’clock, two men were drilling holes in room 326 and putting a large whiteboard and a giant notice board on the wall opposite Emily’s desk. At ten thirty a young man appeared pushing a sack barrow into her office.

“I have five archive boxes for Emily Watson?”

“That’s me.”

“Anywhere in particular love?”

“Underneath the notice board please.”

The man pushed the boxes up against the wall.Emily signed a piece of paper and the man left.

She quickly realised there was something missing. Coffee. She couldn’t get through the day without at least ten cups of coffee. She sent Julie another Email asking if she would be allowed to have a filter coffee machine in her office. Julie responded by telling her that it would arrive later that day. She even asked what type of coffee she would prefer. For the first time in her career Emily felt important. She liked the feeling.

She took the first archive box and placed it on her desk. It was marked “Barnes Rail Crash 1955”.
Before Emily opened the box she saw a list of names and dates on the side. Her name was at the bottom of the list with today’s date. The two names before hers were Nicola Hammond and the date 1/6/2010, and Stephen Palmer and the date 24/11/2005. Emily wrote the names and dates down at the bottom of the whiteboard. She was sure that Nicola Hammond and Stephen Palmer were her predecessors and had obviously been looking into the same things she was about to. Paul had mentioned that there had been two people before her, but had discovered nothing so they’d moved on. Being the competitive person that she was, Emily was determined to find something that Nicola and Stephen hadn’t been able to. She opened the box.

There were two reports. The official one, done by the Railway, and a separate Police report. Some photographs and a few press cuttings.

She started to read the official report. It was hard going. Lots of technical jargon. She made notes as she turned the pages. After two hours she’d read it all. She looked at her notes and put them in order. What had taken the report over two hundred pages to explain, Emily had summarised in just a few lines.

The 23.12 electric passenger train was travelling from Waterloo to Windsor when it collided into the back of a Haulage train going from Herne Hill to Brent at approximately 35mph. The wreckage from the passenger train caused a short circuit on the live rail and this in turn caused a fire in the wooden coach framework. The first coach in the passenger train was completely burnt out. The reason for the crash was caused by the “irregular” procedures of the signalman. He freed a blocked signal by use of an “override key” because he forgot that the freight train was coming.

There was a knock at her door.

“Emily Watson?”

“Yes.”

“Couple of bits for you from stores. A photo copier, printer and coffee machine. Where do you want them?”

Emily was impressed, she’d forgotten about a printer and photo copier. Good old Julie.

Two men carried the photocopier into the room and placed it on one of the cabinets. They plugged it in and left Emily with two boxes of A4 paper. The coffee machine was new and still in it's original box as was the printer.

“Do you want us to set these up for you?”

Emily smiled at them.

“No thank you, I’m more than capable of sorting them out. But thanks anyway.”

The two men left and Emily began to open the boxes. A knock at the door made her jump.

“Nearly forgot. The machine won’t be much good without these.”

He handed Emily a large bag of Columbian coffee and filter papers.

They both laughed. She thanked him and he left.

Within an hour she had fresh coffee on the go and the wireless printer connected to her laptop and PC. Now everything was in place and she could really get to work. She sent Julie a complimentary email and copied in Paul Dickson-Smith thanking her for all her help on her first day. She thought that would be a nice touch.

She typed up the summary of the Barnes rail Crash and printed it off. She read it aloud and then pinned it to the notice board. Next she read the Police report. It was pretty much the same but included witness statements. Seventeen in total. She read them all. Only one stood out. It was from a man called Edward Hargreaves aged forty who had been in the third passenger carriage.

“There was a loud bang, we’d obviously hit something. Then there was the sound of metal scraping against metal, a horrible screeching noise. The carriage seemed to roll on its side and the windows smashed, glass was flying everywhere. I was convinced that I was going to die. When eventually we stopped, there was a loud explosion and I could smell burning. Thick black smoke began to drift into the carriage. I was helped to my feet by another man who had been sitting opposite me in the carriage. A foreigner by the look of him. He pushed me through a window and I fell to the floor outside. I moved as far away from the train as I could. There was smoke everywhere.”

Emily read it twice and took a copy of it. Coincidence? Another stranger helping people, a foreign looking man. No mention of the beard or black jacket. Poor Mister Hargreaves would be nearly one hundred, if he was still alive. That didn’t seem likely. So no chance of speaking with him face to face.

There were photos of the victims in the police file. Emily squirmed; burned bodies were never easy to look at.

She went through the press cutting from the papers and read every word. No clues there.

It began to dawn on her just how difficult this job was going to be. Trains didn’t have passenger lists or manifests like other forms of transport did. So it was impossible to find out exactly who was on the train. She kept thinking she was missing something, something obvious. She poured herself another coffee and sat back in her chair. She picked up the remote control of the TV and switched it on. She realised she was watching BBC1. She smiled, this wasn’t just a screen it was a full working TV. She flicked through the channels and stopped at Sky News. Emily shouted out.

“That’s it”

She’d been missing the obvious. A train crash back in 1955 would have been big news. Hardly anyone had televisions back then and the news was shown at the local cinema before the main feature. But she couldn’t remember what it was called. She googled “News from 1955”. There it was, Pathe News.

Excitedly she entered the Pathe News site and typed in “Barnes Rail Crash 1955.” There was a sixty second video clip to watch. She pressed play. The narrator spoke in a posh English accent and said that the disaster had stunned the nation. Thirteen people had lost their lives in this tragic accident. The video showed people rushing around, clearing the debris. All men, all in suits and hats. Except one. One man was standing beside the wreckage with his back to the camera. He wore a long dark coat. He was standing still while others rushed around him. Then he turned and walked away.She could just see the side of his face. He had a beard. She watched it over and over again.

She sent Julie another Email requesting the full set of Pathe News DVD’s from 1945 to present day.
It was now after six and Emily was pleased with her days work. She could continue some of it back at home. She put her laptop in its case and left the office and locked her door. As she did so someone spoke to her.

“I wondered who was in room 326.”

Emily turned round to see a very smart grey haired lady standing before her. She was wearing a tweed two peice jacket and skirt, silk blouse and vert "comfortable" shoes. Emily put out her hand.

“Hi I’m Emily, Emily Watson. I only started today.”

“Pauline, Pauline Jenkins, nice to meet you. I’m just along the corridor in 343. You working for Mister Dickson Smith?”

“Yes I am. Just research.”

Pauline walked with Emily to the lift and waited.

“Nice to see the office being used again.”

“Has it been empty for long then?”

“Six months since Nicola was in there.”

“Oh, did you know Nicola, does she still work in the building?”

Pauline looked surprised.

“No, she died in a house fire. Terrible accident. Electrical wiring or something. Just a few days after she left the service.”