ReginaldChapter 19
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Reginald's DisasterChapter 15 free porn video
He lifted the opened packet to his nose, and sniffed.
“Hmm. Drugs of some kind, I think. Smells slightly of cannabis, but I am getting over a cold, so my sense of smell is affected.” He told the other man, “Don’t touch anything behind the panels. Leave the lot intact for now, but uncover the other three panels to check if what is behind them is the same. I’ll need to phone this in and we can have a team meet the train at St Pancras, for a forensic search. There might be more than just these four panels involved.”
He waited as the rail man carefully unscrewed the other panels, confirming that they too had packets stuffed behind them.
Sidra and Elizabeth were almost bouncing wih excitement.
Elizabeth asked the policeman, “Have we uncovered hidden drugs, sir? I have never managed to do such an exciting thing before!”
The man smiled at her.
“I do believe you are right, young lady, but this is now a job for our forensic drug team, who will establish which drugs and in what quantity we have uncovered. No-one can touch them: they are evidence; not even me, so you can’t do anything either, despite your enthusiasm. We have to do everything by the book of rules; Okay?”
“Yes, sir. I understand. How much is there behind the panels? It seems loads and loads!”
He agreed with her guess. “It looks to be a lot, that is all I can say, so it might have been intended for delivery to some drugs baron in London. That’s one of the top dealers in drugs.”
“But we are not stopping in London, sir! We still have to catch another train out to Luton, where a bus will be waiting for us. When I say ‘we’, I mean this carriage and all the people in it.”
“Oh. I see. I thought this was your destination. I was expecting we would take over the carriage in St Pancras for the forensics team to start on it. It could take them hours!”
Frances intervened,”Well, if you could organise an alternative private carriage for our party, I expect we could transfer to it. Even if there was a slight delay in leaving for Luton, we can phone and inform our driver of the delay; but it all depends on our privacy, you see, with the babies needing breastfed at regular intervals. We paid to get that privacy.”
The policeman recognised the validity of her argument, so got on his phone and through to his HQ, where he explained the difficulties, and the need to commandeer a private carriage if one was free. He came to some agreement and closed his phone.
Turning to Frances, who was holding Jimmy in her arms provocatively, he said, “My bosses will do their best for you, as it is a priority linked to this major drug find. They will ring me back as soon as they have news.”
They were still waiting as the time to reach St Pancras approached, and Frances was becoming anxious at the delay.
At last the policeman’s phone rang and he answered.
“Yes, sir ... Uh-huh, I see ... That sounds reasonable. Thank you, sir.” and he rang off. He turned to Frances.
“Ma’am, they could not find a free private carriage, but they had a refurbished First Class coach coming out of the workshops, so it is being shunted to St Pancras and will be there for you to board at the platform next to where we will be arriving. They will move the Luton train forward at its scheduled departure time, and then shunt it back to your platform, where they will add your carriage, and then depart. They expect the train to still arrive at Luton on time.”
“Great stuff!” declared Frances. “Thank you, constable ... is it constable, sir?”
“It is, ma’am, but today’s discovery will help my chances of promotion in future.”
Reg came to add his own words. “Congratulations on getting us an alternative carriage, constable. I hope you get recognition for today’s work.”
A short while later, their train drew into St Pancras station, and Reg observed that while their First Class carriage was down at the concourse end of the platform, their present carriage was naturally at the outer end. Almost as soon as they stopped moving though, four electric buggies used for towing luggage/freight trollies drew up outside their carriage, and one driver came to announce that they had been asked to transport the ladies and their babies to the First Class carriage. Each buggie had seats for a couple of passengers, plus a trailer. The ladies fitted themselves on to the seats on the towing buggies, while Reg and the two younger teens hopped onto the trailers with the luggage. As they completed their move to their platform transport, a police car drove up the platform and stopped beside the private carriage, disgorging four more policemen These were wearing white forensic overalls on top of their uniforms, to avoid any cross-contamination.
It was a matter of a couple of minutes more to move to the First Class carriage and transfer people and luggage inside. The ladies found seats to suit them, mostly window seats, and Reg, Sidra and Elizabeth grabbed any available seat before the Luton train backed up to them.
They had noted that the door windows had stickers plastered on them: Reserved. That should stop any hopeful passengers from gatecrashing this carriage, but Reg noticed the presence of another policeman, a sergeant, walking sedately outside up and down the length of their carriage, prepared to eject any intruder trying to jump aboard. As the carriage was hooked up, and the train prepared to leave, he jumped aboard himself, showed his warrant card, and said to Reginald, “If you are Reginald Robertson, I need to record some background for the case, sir.”
Reg agreed to his identification, but said, “If we can wait until we are on our way, please.”
Shortly thereafter, their train was off again, on the last leg of their train expedition, and they settled in the shiny new seats, comparing them with the comfy but older chairs in their previous carriage. Comfortable though they were, the regimented layout of this coach was different from the more informal distribution in their private carriage. The police sergeant was ignored by the girls as being Reg’s problem to deal with. The man got out his notebook, and examined the list of questions he had prepared.
Before he could speak, Reg’s phone rang. He answered, finding the same Personalia voice on the line. The phone speaker was loud enough that the policeman could hear the entire conversation.
“Reginald Robertson, we will arrange the signalling so that your train will arrive at Luton station at its scheduled time, for you to meet the planned road transport back to your home. Have you spoken yet to any of the humans you wish to travel with you to view your wedding ceremony?”
“The Robson sisters have spoken with their father, and invited these parents to come with us, with a possibility of them deciding to start farming on Rehome. Can you check with the authorities on Rehome if that would be manageable? The second possibility is the Personal Assistant to Hubert Dangerfield, Q.C., and her two lady friends. Her name is Jenny and is contactable at Mr Dangerfield’s office. She was recently threatened, and might be amenable to marrying her lady friends on Rehome.”
“And the parents of your other wives-to-be?”
“I think they will be keen to attend the wedding ceremony, but not likely to wish to emigrate. Most of them are fairly settled in their current abode and employment status. We have still to ask them, but will deal with that once we are home. Our residence is the property of Frances’ father’s business, though he intended to transfer ownership to us. He may be pleased to have it available for sale again.”
“Is property ownership a good investment, Reginald Robertson?”
Surprised at the question, Reg could only say, “In the right circumstances, yes. If there are indications that the value of buildings is probably going to increase, then buying a building – particularly a house - will most likely lead to a profit on resale. In other circumstances, if the market value in a specific location is going down, then purchase would be a poor option. To make a good judgment, you need to have detailed knowledge of selling prices in a wide area around the location of the building, but also know of market forces that might depress values. That could include a noisy or smelly factory about to be built nearby, but a high-tech low pollution nearby business might enhance local house values by attracting well-paid staff. It is a fine judgement to make.”
“That does sound similar to considerations we have to take into account with our other businesses. We have access to much data that might influence house prices. We may decide to invest in property, to make a profit as we do with our other businesses. We have learned all about this concept of ‘private enterprise’.”
Reg grinned. “You should have a look at property development companies, such as the one run by Mr LeBrun – Frances’ father. If you decided you would like to buy a share of his company, and provide investment capital, you could both benefit from astute business decisions.”
“We will research the field of property development, and see what is our best option for the future. Does the property value get affected by political decisions of national government, in the same way as the stock market does?”
“Not usually, except if there is a market downturn; then values of business properties may markedly decrease. If on the other hand, you were aware of a coming improvement in retailing, buying such property at low prices might be a worthwhile investment for future sale, particularly if the site was an attractive one, such as a city centre where there is a high footfall – many potential customers walking nearby.”
“I see. That makes considerable sense. Do you advise us embarking on such a venture, being an educated human?”
“My knowledge of that business is very limited, but a discussion bnetween yourselves and Mr LeBrun might prove fruitful, as he is a reliable and honest person – sorry, man - to deal with. You can trust his judgement, based on our dealings with him. He can tell where an office building has potential to be converted to residential flats, if there is an expanding market for such homes in the area. Price your flats to be slightly less than competing flats in the vicinity, and offer improved security – that is something you would be good at – and the flats are likely to sell quickly and make you money.”
“That is helpful information, Reginald Robertson. We will speak with Mr LeBrun: it is Paul LeBrun, is it not?”
“You have it right. Paul, not his brother Peter. Paul is the expert on property development.”
“I take it, then, that Mr Paul LeBrun would not be interested in moving to Rehome?”
“That is my view. I assume there is not yet a market in property development on Rehome?”
“There is no sign of such a market. The colony works on what is best for the colony, and buying and selling property does not fit well with that economic pattern. In the future, perhaps, but not now.”
Reg suggested, “In that case, a long-term business arrangement with him would be worth considering.”
“Thank you again, Reginald Robertson.”
Reg closed his phone, and the police sergeant stared at him curiously.
“Did I hear right, sir? Someone talking about humans, and a place called Rehome, and emigration? I got the discussion of the property business. It sounds like you were advising a potential investor. Unusual for such a young man as yourself. Your coming wedding seems to be working out. But mention of three females getting married? That is a real puzzler.”
Reg smiled sweetly at the policeman.
“Sir, if you don’t know what any of that means, try asking your top boss. He might know. For your general information, Rehome is out of this world; able to offer marriage to more than a single couple. Me and my ladies – the ones with babies -, hope to emigrate there shortly and get married.
However, you had questions for me, didn’t you?”
The man pulled himself together, still annoyed at not being in some information loop that his superiors were supposedly privy to. “Yes, sir, about the rail crash a week or so back. I need some details of the event.”
Reg waved his hand in dismissal.
“In that case, you are asking the wrong person, sergeant. A chunk of luggage of some kind fell on my head and knocked me out for a short time. I have little memory of the event, I am sorry to say: concussion.”
“Oh. Who then was aware throughout the event?”
“Most of my wives were conscious, I am told, but Frances is in charge of our family, so you should ask her.”
“And which of these ladies is Frances? Don’t say ‘the one with the baby’, as all of them seem to be holding babies. Just call her over.”
“Okay. Frances, love? Will you talk to the nice policeman about the rail crash?”
Frances looked up from rocking Jimmy to sleep, sighed her annoyance, and got up, still rocking her baby. She walked to where Reg and the policeman were sitting.
“Yes, Reg? Who exactly is this gentleman?”
The policeman interrupted before Reg could speak.
“Sorry, ma’am. I neglected to introduce myself earlier: Sergeant Robert McPherson, British Transport Police. I gather you are Frances? Surname?”
“Robertson, of course; Reg’s wife.”
“You are married, then? I was unsure of the relationships here, with talk of a wedding on Rehome.”
“Legally speaking, according to English law, none of us is married, sergeant, but in practice all of us ladies with babies are married to Reg. My legal name is correctly Mrs Frances Robertson, as recorded by Deed Poll. Most of the others applied the same legal stratagem in a similar way, and have similar titles. But surely that is not what you are here for?”
“No, ma’am. That is so. I need to record what actually happened to your private carriage during the rail crash. Mr Robertson says he was ‘non compos mentis’ at the time, through concussion, but that you might recollect things clearly.”
“That is correct. What do you want to know, sergeant?”
“The actions of the carriage throughout the crash event, for starters.”
“It was fairly simple and straightforward, sergeant. The train must have hit something, and the brakes came on automatically, I presume. The carriages bumped up against each other, and some toppled over I believe, but our carriage at the rear merely halted suddenly, rocked to one side, back to the other side, then settled back down on the rails and the rocking motion continued a little longer. Then I was concerned with the family’s condition. That is why the injuries were minimal; just Reg and Prudence got slightly hurt by falling luggage from the luggage racks above. The rest of us in our comfy seating were cuddling our babies and were fairly well cushioned, and also nothing fell directly on us.”
“Ah. That is significant. No apparent damage to the bodywork?”
“None at all, as far as I could see. All the stresses were on the bogies and wheels, I was told.”
Sergeant McPherson asked, “Can I have another lady to answer the same question about the carriage? Without you saying anything to her, if you don’t mind!”
“Oh, yes: independent witness statements. Of course. Jessica, dear? Would you mind if this policeman came to you and asked a simple question about the rail crash? Give him your present identity, for your own protection.” She turned back to the sergeant, explaining, “An abusive ex-husband, so she changed her surname to Robertson for protection. Her infant baby is Reg’s, - her own choice, by the way.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he moved to where this older Asian lady, in her nthirties, he thought, was sitting cuddling a new baby. He asked solicitously, “you are all right with this, Mrs...”
“Mrs Jessica Robertson, sir. Yes, as long as you stick to the one question.”
He asked about the condition of their carriage and what happened to it during the crash. He got the exact same information as he had from Frances, and was pleased at that independent confirmation. He didn’t think he need ask any more of anyone.
“Thank you very much, Mrs Robertson. Is there any help we can give you regarding your ex-husband, if you need protection?”
She smiled at him. “Not now, sir. He was arrested yesterday, trying to attack my divorce lawyer, and I believe is being charged with attempted murder. I think he will be put away for a long time. Lawyers do not take kindly to be attacked with a knife, even if the perpetrator did not get as far as his office.”
The sergeant grinned. “Someone tripped him up on the way?”
“Not exactly. Mr Dangerfield’s P.A. belted him over the head with a police truncheon, and then handcuffed the man while he was unconscious. A great member of staff, don’t you think?”
The policeman was astonished. “Where did the truncheon and handcuffs come from?”
“A friend who had tried a magic act, but gave it up. She passed the truncheon and cuffs to Jenny after hearing of an earlier attempt on her boss’s life. The handcuffs were trick ones; easy to get off if you know the trick. They held him until the police arrived and took over with their own handcuffs.”
The sergeant laughed at the story. “You have some remarkable associates, Mrs Robertson. I trust all went well with the birth?”
“It went fine, sir. Reg was a darling; holding my hand when I needed him. Reg is my hero, sir: he helped me and my daughter escape from my former husband. But he is easy to love as well, so I am going to marry him soon.”
“Another one for the wedding?”
“Yes, sir. I know it seems peculiar, but none of us girls, young or old, have bickered seriously in all the time I have been here: an almost unheard-of thing. I think it was because we were almost all females with disabilities of one kind or another; not good-looking, too tall and skinny, family problems, such as me; that sort of thing. We are grateful for what we now have. Can you blame us for being happy?”
“No, ma’am. Most folk do not appreciate what they have; you obviously do.”
He left Jessica with her baby and returned to Frances.
“Mrs Robertson; Frances? May I ask a little more? Do you know who was told about what happened to your carriage, in terms of damage?”
“Now, there I am more than a little confused. We were more concerned with getting to safety than with who was taking an interest in the carriages. I think the priority was naturally given to those carriages that had more damage. Ours had little apparent damage. The rescue services found it easy to remove us through the normal doors, by simply using a ladder to the ground, though the babies got priority attention and were lifted out first. We girls are young and fit enough to climb out by ourselves and get our babies back once we reached ground level.We were rushed to ambulances and taken to hospital in York to be checked over and get whatever medical attention was required. For many of us, it was just shock that bothered us. When you are in shock you do not pay much attention to non-essentials, and what happened about the carriage afterward was a non-essential.”
“But you did not see anyone paying special attention to your carriage?”
“Certainly not. Of course, the whole train was left lying where it was after the injured and uninjured were removed, so a whole lot of onlookers would see the train carriages afterwards. One thing, I should say; our luggage remained on board, and we later received it intact, so someone had remained on guard to protect the contents of the carriages. Probably someone like your own police force.
At a guess, I would suggest that someone saw our carriage and made unwarranted assumptions about its condition, then arranged access at the repair workshop later. They must have some familiarity with the workshop procedures, as they gained access without being challenged. Then as the workshop manager apparently did not know about the work on the panels, and it only appeared on the list we saw by serendipity, it looks like a case of taking an opportunity to use our carriage as a useful transport route for drugs, by people with rail knowledge. You should check the rail employees, sergeant.
As for the drug runners, it was probably easier than using road transport, for I believe that is always watched for by the regular police forces. As our final destination was Luton, perhaps a supply of drugs was intended for Luton and our carriage was just a target of opportunity. You might explore who in Luton was looking to receive drugs at the rail station. You might possibly intercept them trying to get into this carriage, if they didn’t know what our original carriage looked like.”
“Very perceptive of you, madam. Have you some experience in this line?”
“You might say so. Our company investigates cash losses by national organisations and large companies, and we get paid according to what we save them. No savings, no fee.”
“And does your company do well?”
“It does; very well. We have a great reputation for successful investigations and recoveries, sergeant. We may not all have pretty faces, but we are pretty good at thinking out of the box. You should try us some time, if we are still around to help. The company name is Recovery Enterprise Group.”
“R.E.G.” he paused. “Mr Robertson is called Reg, isn’t he, I noticed?”
“You are on the ball, sergeant. We girls chose the name on account of the letter combination. We liked that affectation as an apellation.”
“So you are all university students?”
“Most of us, but not all. Jessica never got a chance at going to university: her parents married her off young to that monster of a husband. Her daughter, Sidra, is being home-schooled by us, and should be able to reach university entrance standard shortly. Another home-schooler is Elizabeth, an orphan, a year younger than Sidra. We adopted her from a grandmother that didn’t care for her, and a school that left her suicidal. She is doing well now, but has teaching as her target career.”
“Fascinating tale. Keep it quiet, though, or the press will have a field day with you.”
“They have already tried. It is costing them a fortune in damages.”
“Really? You must have a good lawyer.”
“We do. Our company lawyer is a Q.C.”
“Wow. That is top drawer stuff; I am surprised you can afford him.”
“He is the father of one of us ladies, so he comes cheap!”
The sergeant laughed delightedly, and switched subjects.
“Do you mind if I phone in my news and see if we can set up something at Luton?”
“Go ahead. Would you like the train to be on time, or delayed a little?”
“Eh? You can’t control train times.”
“By knowing the right people, you can. Try us. At the moment, the plan is to be on time. Do you need us to be delayed?”
“Hang on and I will tell you shortly.”
He dialled a number on his phone, and reported his news, finishing by asking when a team would be able to watch Luton station and their carriage. He listened, asked, “Would it suit to have a couple of minutes delay in arriving? Okay. We will arrange that. Bye.”
“Frances? Two minutes late, if you can manage it.”
Frances pressed a key on her phone and an amplified voice said, “Yes, Frances Robertson. What can we do for you?”
“We are on the train to Luton. It would be helpful for the local police if the train arrived two minutes late.”
“Very well. That is a minor signalling delay; that is all. Consider it done.”
“Thank you. Bye.”
She looked at the policeman. “There you are. Two minutes late.”
“As simple as that? That is impossible!”
“No, it is possible, if you have control of digital communications, sergeant. That is all that the signalling system is.”
“But who did you phone, to get that done immediately?”
“If I said, alien spaceships in orbit, would you believe me?”
“No.”
“Then I can’t tell you. Now my baby needs my attention. If you’ll excuse me?”
Frances turned and sat down again, leaving the B.T. policeman at a loss for words.
Frances next spoke to Reg.
“Darling, would you phone our bus people and say our train will be a couple of minutes late, but otherwise everything should be as expected.”
“Certainly, Frances. They will be happy to hear there is no significant delay.”
The policeman had a thought, and asked Frances, “Do you still have that sheet which listed panel work? We should keep it for evidence.”
“I think so. It should be in the folder on that table near the door, if the other policeman didn’t take it.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I will disturb you no longer.” He went over and deftly extracted it from the folder, adding it to another evidence bag.
It did not seem to take long before they were drawing into Luton station, and as they slowed down the ladies started to gather themselves for the next transfer, to the bus. Once the train had stopped, a man appeared and jumped down between their carriage and the rest of the train to uncouple them from the train.
The policeman raised a hand. “Everyone stay aboard while the carriage gets shunted to a less used platform. You can get off there and we will get you to your bus, then we will be able to get on with our own operations.”
The shunter engine quickly appeared and moved them across to the desired platform, where the police sergeant opened the door and looked out. Several motorised baggage trolleys were waiting, and he shephered them out and onto the trolleys.
“Where is your bus likely to be, Mr Robertson?” he asked. Reg said where it had left them on arrival, and the sergeant replied, “We will go to the same spot. Phone him and say we will be there.”
Reg did that, and the driver responded, “I will get as near as I can, and then we can meet. I will turn my headlights on so you can see where I am.”
This turned out to be easier than expected, and with the extra help the transfer into the bus was soon accomplished. Frances recognised the driver and told him, “Just straight back to our home where you picked us up a week or so ago.”
She turned back to the sergeant who was standing at the door.
“Thank you for your help, Sergeant McPherson. I hope your work goes well.”
“Goodbye, ma’am. Take care.” and he waved off the driver, while Frances hurried to her seat where Reg was holding a dozing Jimmy for her.
They were all tired by the time the bus drew up at their building. The twins heard the vehicle outside, and opened the door to welcome the family home again. Jessica got special treatment as she was helped out of the bus by Reg, with him holding baby Rex for her. The twins could not decide between hugging Jessica and cuddling the new baby, and settled on ‘turn-about’, before ushering her into the house. Their husbands were still away at work.
The other ladies simply trooped past and into their home. Sidra and Elizabeth pouted at being ignored, but realised that babies got special attention from all adult females. Once they had finished with greeting Jessica and her new baby, the twins hustled them inside and up to the nursery room, anxious to know if Rex was needing breast-fed. Jessica agreed that it was near time for his next feed, so the twins sat her on the special low chair for that purpose, and asked if she needed a drink or something else for herself.
Overwhelmed by the attention, Jessica asked if she could have a weak cup of tea and a couple of ‘rich tea’ biscuits to go with it. They were on it like a shot.
The nursery gradually filled up as the other mothers came in to lay their offspring in their cots. As soon as the baby was settled, the mother was able to leave and attend to other matters, such as the neatly laid out piles of mail that had collected during their absence.
Hermione commandeered the post addressed to the company and took it to the company office for opening and sorting into categories: Action, Non-urgent, Interesting but not important, and junk mail. She opened all the junk mail, and ended up dumping it in the waste paper recycling box. The rest were opened and laid flat in appropriate piles. One in particular caught her eye, and she walked through to find Reg. He was relaxing in a comfy chair with a cup of freshly-made coffee, and one of his children cuddled in his lap. Hermione recognised her own baby.
“Reg, you dear man. Was William bothering you?”
“Not me, but he was noisy in the nursery, so I brought him through with me, as you were occupied with the business mail. He is fine now: seems to like his Dad’s lap, or maybe just likes being cuddled.”
“Sorry to bother you myself, but there is an item in the Action pile that needs the attention of the company as a whole. It is an approach from your university to take over your business and base it in a new research centre at the university. They see the possibilities of using the activity of the company for study by a number of disciplines: management, economics, business studies, psychology, and possibly several others involving finance, transport and storage facilities. You and the other directors will need to study the proposal and decide what is in it for you, in the short term and long term; after all, it is your business, not theirs.”
Marisol
- 28.06.2020
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