The Strangers on the Trains ( Part 4)

Emily stopped off at the mini mart in Hoxton Square and bought herself a bottle of her favourite Rioja. Faustino 1. Five years ago she’d have been lucky to find a bottle of Mateus Rose in there, but now, because of the new local and affluent clientele, it stocked the finest wines.

She had things to think about. She always thought better after a few glasses of good red wine.

As she walked up the pathway to her front door, a familiar face was there waiting to greet her. It was Yorky. He curled his body around her calves so much so that she nearly fell over.

“Okay, okay, I get the message. You’re hungry.”

She opened the front door and let Yorky run up the hallway and into the kitchen. He, as always, had priority. Before she did anything for herself, Yorky had to be fed. Tonight she opened up a can of tuna and rice. It was expensive stuff but he loved it and that was all that mattered.

She opened the Rioja and poured herself a large glass. Normally she would let it breath but not tonight. Tonight she was too impatient, she had a lot of thinking to do.

After the second glass, Emily started to put things into perspective. Two things worried her. Firstly, Nicola Hammond and her sudden demise, and secondly the speed that everything was being done.

No matter what she asked for, she had and had quickly. It was as if there was a deadline. A deadline that she didn’t know about. Some kind of hidden agenda. The third glass made up her mind. She would go and see Paul in the morning. See if he could clear this up for her. He seemed like a genuine guy, a fair and honest man. She thought of herself as a good judge of character, so she would trust her instincts and go and see him in the morning. She emptied the last drops of wine into her glass and savoured the final drops. She fell asleep in her chair. Exhausted and slightly drunk.

It was just before eight o’clock when she unlocked the door to room 326. She was still tired. She'd woken up at four in the morning in the armchair and then gone to bed. But she’d tossed and turned from then on and decided to get up just before six. Nicola Hammond was playing on her mind; she was trying to convince herself that it was nothing, but had to have it confirmed by Paul.

She made coffee and poured herself a cup. At eight thirty she called Julie Crossley.

“Hi Julie, it’s Emily here, is Paul available for a quick five minutes meeting this morning?”

“Hold on, I’ll check.”

She was put on hold for a few seconds, then Julie spoke again.

“Come up now, he’s free until nine thirty.”

“Thanks Julie, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Emily was nervous. She kept thinking how she was going to approach the subject of Nicola Hammond. She looked up and saw a man standing at her door.

“Emily Watson,room 326?”

“Yes?”

“Delivery for you, can you sign for this box please Miss.”

Emily signed a piece of paper and the man left.

She opened the box and found a complete set of Pathe News DVD,s from 1945 to 2010. This should have been good news. But again she felt worried. She had asked for them at five o’clock the previous evening and here they were on her desk before nine o’clock the next day. Something wasn’t right.

She walked up two flights of stairs and entered the fourth floor. She showed her ID to security then made her way to Paul’s office. Julie greeted her.

“Go straight through, he’s expecting you.”

Emily walked into Paul’s office. He was at the coffee machine with his back to her. He turned round and offered her a cup.

“Ahh, Emily, just in time. Coffee?”

She took the cup and thanked him.

“Please, sit down and bring me up to speed. I take it you’ve got something to tell me, something important. It’s only Tuesday and we weren’t supposed to meet until Friday.”

“Yes, I found the man again. The one with the black jacket and beard. He was at the scene of the Barnes Train crash in 1955.”

“Excellent work. So, any conclusions yet?”

“Not yet. I only discovered it late yesterday, that’s why I wanted the Pathe News DVD,s.”

“So if you’re not here because of that, what’s wrong?”

Emily took a big gulp of coffee and then blurted it out.

“What can you tell me about Nicola Hammond?”

Emily watched Pauls face carefully for any signs of surprise. There was none.

“She was your predecessor. Bright, witty, but not that great at research as it turned out. So she moved on and that’s why you’re here.”

Paul spoke in a very matter of fact way.

“That’s not really what I meant Paul. What can you tell me about her death?”

Again Paul’s response wasn’t cautious or defensive. He simply sat back in his chair and smiled at her.

“Emily Watson, you never cease to surprise me. You think there is a connection between Nicolas accident and the work she did for me here, don’t you?”

Emily felt slightly embarrassed.

“Well it does seem a bit of a coincidence. Her working here, then leaving, then being involved in a fatal accident only a couple a weeks later. You can understand my concern, surely?”

Paul went quiet for a few seconds then leant forward and put his arms on the desk.

“When I found out about Nicola I pulled a few strings, called in a couple of favours. I got to see the full police report. Nicola and her boyfriend had recently bought a two bedroom flat in North London. The previous owners had been having problems selling it due to the fact that it needed re-wiring. It was Edwardian and the electrics were in a bad way. To have the whole flat done properly would have cost them around five thousand pounds. They didn’t have that kind of money. But, according to their statements to the Police they were given a quote by a company who said they could do it for fifteen hundred pounds. The reason they gave for being able to do it so much cheaper was that they had just done another house not far away and had a lot of cable left over. The job was done in a day and they were paid. It turned out that all they had done was change the sockets and light fittings with new ones, they hadn’t re-wired it at all. But everything looked good on the surface. Nicola and her boyfriend went to view it, liked it and bought it. They never had a full survey done on the property, just a valuation report, meaning that the so called new re-wiring was never spotted. “

Emily helped herself to another coffee and poured one for Paul.

“So it was just an accident then?”

“There’s more Emily, I haven’t finished yet.”

Emily sat down.

“Nicola had a thing for lights. She had poor eye sight. Everyone here could vouch for that. It could be midday in the height of summer yet she’d still have all the lights on in her office. According to her boyfriend, she regularly had every light on in every room. Especially at night. Her boyfriend worked for a local bus company and had to do shift work. On the night of the fire he was on a late shift and wouldn’t be home till three in the morning. Nicola had gone to bed at around ten thirty. As always, she had left a light on in every room. She had the television on in her bedroom and as it was a cold evening she had the heating on. She was also cooking a stew in the electric oven so that her boyfriend could have a hot meal when he came home in the early hours. Basically the system couldn’t cope. A spark from the meter in the hallway ignited the cardboard boxes that Nicola had recently unpacked but hadn’t thrown away yet. The whole place was alight within minutes while Nicola was sleeping in here bed. She died in her sleep from the smoke, well before the fire claimed her. The Police are still looking for the two cowboy electricians and when they track them down they’ll be charged with manslaughter. That’s the truth Emily; I’ve even seen the Fire Service report as well confirming the whole thing. It was a terrible accident but it was just that. An accident.”

Paul sat back in his chair and waited for a response.

Emily felt as though a weight had been lifted form her shoulders.

“Thanks Paul, I’m sorry if I over re-acted but I just wanted the truth. Can you help me with my second concern?”

“Of course.”

Emily once again shuffled in her seat uncomfortably.

“Okay, is there something about my role that I don’t know? Is there an urgency about it and if there is. Why?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Well everything I ask for, I get. Not in a few days, but straight away. For example, I asked Julie for some DVD’s yesterday at five o’clock. The company they were being sent from are in Bristol. They were delivered to me this morning before nine. Why the rush?”

“You complaining? Because if you are then I’ll slow everything down for you.”

There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“No, no that’s not what I mean. It just seems like there is a deadline or something.”

Once again Paul smiled at her.

“Look Emily, when Nicola left I took time to find her replacement. I didn’t want to rush finding the right person. So I took my time. I looked at Military people, Civilian people; I vetted people from the media, Sky, BBC, and CNN. Basically I took too long. I spent six months searching for the right person so in my book I’m six months behind schedule. So now I need to get my arse in gear and get results. Like everyone else I have to report to people further up the food chain and they'll soon be asking me how it’s going. I don’t want to have to stand there and tell them that it’s my fault for the delay. So yes, whatever you need, within reason will be given and given quickly. Those DVD’s for example. No big thing. We have a Courier Company that works solely for us. Bristol is only a two hour drive from London. I would imagine that Julie ordered them as soon as you asked for them and told the company that we would collect them. They were left with security and our Courier collected them during the night and then brought them to us. Easy.”

Emily felt much more relaxed about the whole thing. Paul was a straight player. She was sure of that. She decided to go for broke and ask for some help.

“There is one more thing that I could do with.”

“Okay, if it’s reasonable, and you have a good reason, then I’ll agree.”

“I could do with a leg man.”

As soon as she said it she realised it could be taken the wrong way.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean a man that likes legs. I mean a man that could do some running around for me.”

“I knew what you meant Emily, but for what reason?”

She knew she was close to getting what she wanted.

“Okay, for example. This Barnes Crash. There was only one person that saw the man in the black jacket. I need more information from him. What can he remember? Was the guy carrying something, was he nervous, was he anxious, did he speak, did he have an accent?”

Paul put his hand up as if he was asking her to stop.

“Okay. Done.”

“Really?”

“Why not? Makes perfect sense to me. You can concentrate on the research while someone else goes and gets more information. That’s why I wanted you Emily. You ask the questions that no one else has ever asked. We make a good team. You’ll have your leg man and soon.”

Paul stood up and Emily knew it was time to leave. She shook his hand and smiled.

“Thank you Paul, I didn’t mean to imply anything; I just needed to get things clear in my head, that’s all.”

“Emily, you are most welcome. Now go away and find me the man with the beard and the reasons why!”

The both laughed. Emily returned to her office on the third floor.

She watched the 1955 Pathe News DVD, over and over again. She took a screen print of the man in the black coat and pinned it to the notice board. As she did so she was aware of someone standing at her door way.

“Doctor Watson I presume?”

Emily looked over. There was a big fat man in front of her. Six feet tall and well over twenty stone. She didn’t look at his face; her eyes were drawn to the buttons on his suit jacket. They were struggling to hold back the bulk behind them. She was sure they would burst at any moment. His stomach was enormous.

“I’m sorry.”

“Your name is Watson right? And you have a Master’s Degree, which in some parts of the world would be called a Doctorate, so you could call yourself a Doctor. Not just that but you’re into research. You find out things. So I say again. Doctor Watson, I presume!”

Emily took an immediate dislike to him. He was fat, badly dressed and arrogant.

“Okay then, I suppose I am. Now what do you want?”

He walked over to the coffee machine and helped himself to a cup. Then sat down opposite her.

“My name’s Anthony Palmer, but you can call me Tony. I’m your leg man.”