Good mates – the return of a stolen camera
It was my uncle’s last day at work and his colleagues were waiting for him at Kings Cross where there was to be a celebration of his years on the railway. There was a meal, some speeches and then a presentation. He had been a popular colleague, a well-respected governor and they had bought him a very expensive camera.
On his way home, he had left his coat while he went into the next carriage to find the toilet. When he returned he found that the camera had disappeared from where he had left it, tucked under his coat, out of sight. Within moments he had found the guard, another old colleague, and had told him what had happened.
Ten minutes or so later the train approached its first stop, at Stevenage. Several passengers got to their feet and stood by the doors, ready to get off. The train slowed to a halt, but there was no hissing of compressed air, no whir of electric motors. The passengers looked around and one of them pressed the door button, not once but several times, all to no avail.
Then the public address system cackled into life. An item of property had been stolen from a passenger. When it had been returned the doors would be opened and passengers would be able to get off. Within a matter of a few minutes a passenger had approached the guard with a camera which he had found abandoned on a seat.
Whether this passenger was the thief or not no one knew, but no one was going to be allowed to get away with robbing the guard’s friend.
Did the guard do the right thing?
What would you have done?
Could a quick-witted thief have done anything to be able to escape with the camera?