Hansback arrived at the train bright and early. He checked his watched, and smiled. Thirty minutes early on the dot. Perfection. Hansback was a man, who like most detectives, believed in arriving early and promptly.
With a glance at the men coupling the train, Hansback noticed they were almost done. Good. He wanted to leave on time, not late.
At precisely 9 o'clock the train left the station. Hansback walked walked down the aisle to his compartment. It was one of the average compartments, with simple furniture and taste. This was already meeting his liking. Hansback settled in to his compartment, and unpacked all morning. When the bell rang for lunch, Hansback was ready to relax and read his favorite mystery.
Hansback was seated with another man, and a portly middle aged couple. The other man was strangely quite. He muttered only, "Hello." On the other hand, the couple loved to talk. By the time lunch was over Hansback knew there life down to last detail, and he was really ready for some peace and quite.
Hansback left the dining room, and walked to his compartment. He grabbed his book, 'Framed', and walked to a small sunroom on the top of the train. There were only two other people in there. The mystery man from lunch (as Hansback called him) and a small man, dressed in elaborate clothes, with huge jewels dangling from his neck and fingers.
"How do you do, sir?" Hansback asked politely.
"Very good. Very good indeed. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Richard the third. You have heard of me I presume?"
"I am very sorry, but your name does not ring a bell."
"That is quite alright. If you are not a part of London's higher society, you would have no idea who I am."
The whole time Hansback talked with the rich gentleman, Richard the third, he noticed that the man from lunch was silent. Staring intently out the window, but Hansback had a feeling he was listening.
Hansback shook his head mentally. There was something about that fellow, besides the fact that no one new who he was, that seemed off. A sort of weird felling you got when you looked at the man. Like he was a man in deep trouble, or a criminal of some sort. Hansback looked closely at the man, out of the corner of his eye. He saw that the man's hands were fidgety, and he often would blink and shake his head.
He must be in trouble he thought, for a man in trouble would act just like that. Hansback sighed. Well there was nothing he could do, besides being polite and courteous to him. After all it was no ones business besides the mans.