The platform is empty and for a moment he doesn’t see Dalmar, at the far end, near the bottom of the ramp, but then he spots him where he kneels. Dalmar has both hands clamped over his mouth but as he approaches, Lockhart can hear him muttering something, a prayer perhaps, or a series of horrified exclamations. He is rocking slightly. The young officer goes over to the security guard and places a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t know his name. He leans down and says, ‘It’s alright, mate, help is on its way, it’s okay.’ Odd that he calls him mate, he thinks later, when the man is probably a decade older than him, a bit presumptuous. He’s just trying to be comforting.

He looks to their right, up the tracks, into the Midland darkness that has swallowed the freight train. Somewhere down the line, he hopes, it will have stopped, although if it was a 60 mph-er with a full load, it could be miles away – that’s presuming the driver even saw the fatality occur and braked immediately. A statement from the driver is what Lockhart needs as soon as possible.

‘Did you witness it?’ he says, gently, to Dalmar, and Dalmar nods without speaking. ‘Was there anyone else nearby, anyone else on the platform, in the vicinity?’ Lockhart asks, and Dalmar shakes his head, still without speaking, still with his hands clamped over his mouth, his eyes full. The man is in shock, Lockhart thinks; a full statement can be taken later. Then Lockhart looks down onto the tracks and sees what Dalmar can see.

*

Cambridgeshire Constabulary arrive with torches and shine them down, left and right, up and down. Lockhart keeps one of them and sends the other two off to help Tom secure the station, even though there will be only a handful of people who need turning away. The first responders from the Ambulance Service turn up but there isn’t much they can do either. The clock is ticking on the ninety-minute rule – that’s how long Network Rail gives the BTP to get the body parts off the line and get the trains running through again. Their Specialist Cleaning Unit is on its way.

Lockhart waits until Nottingham get there with the body bag. It’s two PCs and a sergeant who show up and he’s never been so grateful to see an officer of senior rank. The sergeant jumps down onto the tracks immediately and says, ‘Down you come, lad, it’s okay, I’ll tell you what to do. We need to do the large parts first. You done this before?’