A noise woke Sarah up from her sleep in the school coach, she was still feeling very rough. Sarah had been sick twice on the journey down from the hotel in Ypes, the Belgium town they were staying in to Flanders field. This had been supposed to be a trip of a lifetime for this young teenage girl from Bradford to see some of the First World War battle sites, and she had succumbed to travel sickness.
If only they had not confiscated her medicine at customs, just because it was not cleared for sale in Belgium.
Because she had been so ill, Mr Franks had decided that she better sleep in the coach, under the watchful eye of their coach driver, a local provided by the travel firm, while all her classmates visited the battle field. If Sarah had not felt so awful, she would have contested this.
The noise was a banging on the coach door
Sarah heard the driver swear in what she had been told was Flemish.
The driver opened the coach door.
Mr Franks stumbled up into the coach, blood was coming from his nose, mouth and eyes and it looked like he was having trouble seeing. There was also the sound of breathing difficulties from the teacher.
“They’re all deh!” Mr Franks uttered before he collapsed on the floor of the coach.
Sarah glanced out of the coach in her confusion. In the distance lay the lifeless bodies of her classmates. She let off a piercing scream
* * *
Detective inspector James Taylor trudged over the field to the empty coach to meet with his Belgian counterpart. As he walked across he saw various men in what looked like oversized space suits carrying bodies to awaiting ambulances. They looked like the suits their fire service in England used when dealing with chemical spills, they were colloquially referred to by that American term, Hazmat suits.
If the reports were accurate, this had been a horrific incident, twenty children from West Yorkshire and their teacher killed on what should have been a relatively safe school trip and one lad was missing.
A Belgian police officer came up to him hand told him “Excusez-moi monsieur, vous devrez revenir à la route, c'est une scène de crime”
This officer was definitely not one of the Flemish speaking officers that James was expecting. James stopped and gently took from his top jacket pocket his West Yorkshire Police warrant card, but it did not seem to do any good, this officer apparently did not speak English.
Just then James heard a voice from another man in the local police uniform calling out, “Laissez-le passer, il est l'agent de liaison de la police britannique que je vous ai dit tout à l'heure”
The police officer then waved James through saying to him “désolé monsieur”
James walked up to the other police officer by the bus
“My apologies Officer Taylor” this police officer opened with, “I did not have your photograph when we were told by our foreign office that you were the one coming. We are deeply sorry about this tragedy to your children on our soil. It seems that Flanders field has become yet another killing ground. I am Officer Francoise Janssens”
Taylor looked at the ground, he was not sure there was much he could do or achieve, but protocol dictated that at an incident where British lives had been lost in such circumstances required a British officer present, if nothing else, he would be on hand along with the British consulate to deal with the relatives, should they come over.
“I was just told that they had their deaths were still being investigated” Taylor replied, looking Officer Janssens in the eyes, “I’m also confused, you are still collecting the bodies one day after the incident?”
“It does seem a long time Mr Taylor” Officer Janssens answered, “But from the symptoms exhibited by the teacher before he died, we could not take chances that there was not some dangerous pathogen, like Ebola perhaps. The two survivors our coach driver and your school girl are still in isolation at the hospital under observation”
“I will need to speak to them” James interrupted
“In due course” Officer Janssens interrupted back, “But I fear you will not learn much more, they were interviewed by the attending officer when the coach driver called this in”
“Without someone present from the British Consulate?” James said with a slight tint of anger
“The coach driver is Belgian” Officer Janssens said firmly, “He is under our jurisdiction, and he confirmed what the schoolgirl has said, she was asleep right up until the teacher banged on the coach door. She knows nothing”
James once again looked out across the Flanders field, the men in the white hazmat suits, their grim work was coming to an end as the door of the last ambulance was slammed shut. It was then he noticed other men in hazmat suits, carrying metal detectors of some kind and others carrying devices he had last seen on an archaeology programme on the television.
“We have a theory” Officer Janssens said, shattering James’ thoughts, “This field over the years since it was last a killing ground has been subject to farming and agriculture. We believe that as this area was near the World War one German trenches, the group may have inadvertently stumbled across an old shell of mustard gas that had been brought to the surface by ploughing and somehow they triggered it”
“Did the coach driver report an explosion?” James’ asked
Officer Janssens shook his head, “If there had been, your little girl would have been woken up by it, and we know she was woken only by the banging of the teacher on the coach door”
“But how?” James pressed
“It does need to explode to release it’ toxic payload, it only needs to be as you say it, breached”
“So these others?” James asked pointing to the other men in hazmat suits.
Officer Janssens turned around to look where James was pointing, “That is our army bomb disposal team” he answered, “As our best theory is a forgotten world war one shell, they need to make sure there is no further ordinance that could be a danger”
James sighed, if this had been a tragic accident with an old German gas shell it would make sense to make sure the area was safe, but what did not make sense was the location. This was where the German trench was, but the gas shells were never stored there back in World War One. They were further back with the artillery.
“I do not think” Officer Janssens began, “You can do anything else here Detective Inspector. The bodies of the victims are on their way back to Ypes, your schoolgirl is in hospital there also. As for the coach, and the driver, he is ours.”
“What about the missing schoolboy” James pressed
“We have a police helicopter equipped with infra-red looking for him now” Officer Janssens explained, “We suspect he was injured and has got lost trying to escape from the shell. We also have a number of locals ready to assist”
“Twenty children and one teacher dead” James pressed, “and you think it is just an accident?”
“Please detective inspector, we do not suspect any foul play at this time.” Officer Janssens insisted, “We will just have to consider these poor unfortunate children and their teacher some of the last victims of World War One”
“One hundred years on?” James asked with incredulity
“Indeed” Officer Janssens said in an agreeing tone, “Now we have been introduced you would be better served back in Ypes, working with your consular staff for when the families of the dead and that school girl come over”
“We will need copies of any reports you file” James replied, trying to justify his existence
“Of course” Officer Janssens replied, “And we will have them translated into English”
“What about the media” James asked
“Our media is a bit more circumspect than yours” Officer Janssens, “and as for yours, our border staff are making sure they get the message, that it would not go well for them to turn up here. Now go back to Ypes and let us finish up here”
James looked around, he was not sure why he had come out here since the police officer in charge did not think he could do anything, and besides if it was a tragic accident involving a World War One shell it would be a while before any inquiry would get underway.
Suddenly James court sight of two figures near where the men in hazmat suits were working. One was a tall woman dressed in a blue trouser suit and the other a man in a grey suit jacket.
James turned back to Officer Janssens, “who are those two?” James asked pointing at the two figures.
“Who are you pointing at” Officer Janssens replied
James looked again, but this time the two figures were no longer there, and there was no way they could have walked or run from the scene, and yet James was certain he had seen them
“Never mind” James muttered and turned and headed back to his hire-car.
The drive back to Ypres seemed uneventful, although James had the feeling he was being tailed, but every time he looked in the mirror there was no evidence of the same vehicle following him.
James arrived at the British consulate, apparently they had one bedroom which he was to use to save on hotel bills. Well it would have been public money after all. James drove into the consulate compound, got out the car and took out his bags from the boot.
He then walked around heading towards the front of the building. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw the two strange figures he had seen at Flanders field, but when he turned to look, they were not there.
James entered the consulate to be met by one of the consulate staff, a woman in her thirties. “Detective Inspector Taylor?” the woman nodded
James nodded and uttered a “yes”
“It’s been a horrific tragedy” the woman opened with, “Especially with our Consul General away in London”
“Why was he in London” James asked without thinking
“He was appearing before a select committee in the House of Commons” the woman replied, “but he is on his way back from London and is due in tonight”
“I need to unpack my bags” James began
“I will take your bags to your room Detective Inspector” the woman insisted, “You have a visitor in that side office” she added pointing to a door. “He is insistent on speaking with whatever police official they send from the UK. He says he has information on the accident at Flanders”
“So you buy into this idea it was some old World War One gas shell?” James asked.
“What else could it be?” the woman asked as she took James’ bags and went up the stairs.
James went towards the door to the side office.
“Are you sure you want to do that” came a voice from behind.
James spun around, but there was nobody there, instantly the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
James turned back to the office door, took hold of it and entered in.
Sitting at the desk was a very old man.
“I had instructions from my father to come here on this date” the old man began in a voice with a hint of German in it.
“Is he still alive?” James asked
The old man shook his head, “He has been dead for thirty five years”
A shiver went down James back, something was not quite right
“Have you seen them too?” The old man asked and fixed an icy stare at James, “A man in a grey suit and a woman in a blue dress?”
“How did you know?” James asked
The old man seemed to ignore the question, “You came here to investigate the death of children and their teacher”
“The local police are saying it is an accident” James replied
The old man shook his head, “It was no accident”
“What makes you say that?”
Again the old man ignored James’ question “There is one child unaccounted for”
“They’re looking for him” James answered back
“They will not find him here” the old man insisted, “That child died many years ago during the Great War. He was shot by the troops loyal to the Kaiser when he and his other friends appeared out of nowhere in No-Man’s land during one of their failed gas attacks. The rest of the children melted away, but he remained”
James stared at this old man and wondered how he had persuaded the consular staff to let him in and which home he had escaped from.
“My father” the old man went on, “Asked me to take this to you, on this date, and keep it from the man in grey and the woman in blue” at that he handed James an old envelope that was sealed with string, rather than an adhesive seal.
James pulled out the contents.
They were, a written itinerary of the school trip with the date written down that the coach was due at Flanders, the missing child’s school ID card and a fifty pence piece with the current year on it.
All had aged as if they had been around for about a hundred years.
Also in the package was an old photograph from the period of World War One, but as James looked at another chill went through him, this photograph from about one hundred years ago was of the missing child, lying lifeless in a German World War one trench.
To be continued – If I can!