From the journal of James Fernandez
I entered the front most car of the train the head engineer turned to acknowledge me.
"So, have we had any luck with the investigation?"
"Yes, a little." I did not have the heart to tell him all my interviews went sideways.
"I had a question actually. About the emergency hatches on top of the train cars. Are they always so loose? The hatch in mine and Señora Martinez's car was rattling as was the hatch in the Silveira's car. Is that normal?"
"No, it was secured before we departed. We have a checklist we must go through before every departure." My God I may actually be on to something.
"Are the logs on board?"
I knew I was getting close to something. If I got my hands on the checklist I may have signed proof of the last person to verify the hatches.
"Yes, hold on." He turned to a series of leather pouches riveted to the wall of the engineers cabin. They all looked heavily worn, the curves of the material showing wear marks, cracks, and scratches. He turned back to me with a small notebook labeled Safety checklists.
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"This should have the logs from our pre-departure. I just need to find the entry from earlier today…rather yesterday now."
He rapidly flipped through pages. It was dizzying for me as an observer I did not understand how he remained so focused.
"Here" he finally stopped. "This is the page from just before our trip."
I began pouring through the document looking for names and signatures.
James rolls a 16 on a perception check
The page is littered with the initials of two people. One is PD which is Señor Paz Diaz the head engineer. The other is an MC.
"Who is MC?" I asked pointing at the initial in the book.
"Martín Cabrera, he has been with us for some time. He's a good man, a hard worker. I'm sure you know the type."
James rolls a 23 on a intelligence check
I could not shake it, that name, Cabrera. Something about it resonated with me. Perhaps subconsciously I registered something in one of my previous interviews. I had the feeling I was on the brink of discovery.
Before I could ask a follow up question something unexpected happened.
"PAPA!" My daughter burst through the door.
"Something terrible has happened!" She shouts tears streaming from her eyes.
"Father De la Fe! He was…he is…."
"Dead." Señor Silveira appeared in the door. His demeanor was colder than our previous conversation. As my eyes glanced down to his hand he was holding a small firearm trained on my daughter.
"I told you not to run, little girl. Now things are going to get messy."