As I slipped into a vacant seat on the coast bound train I looked up to see a slightly nervous, even agitated woman on the seat opposite.
Despite a handbag and a shopping bag she gripped her cell phone tightly in her hand as if awaiting some important call. As I glanced over again I noticed through the edge of the envelope on her lap two passports amongst some papers.
I could see that the hands that clasped the cell were wrapped in black gloves, not feminine gloves but thick black leather motorcycle style gloves and her coat buttoned high, despite the warmth of the train, covered all but her face.
I am lucky that I understood what I was seeing, this was a secret assassin dressed as a female in order to carry out the hit that would be communicated to her on the cell, after all what reason would an apparent businesswoman have for such a small basic model if not that it is readily disposable? Once the act was carried out ‘she’ would slip to the toilet with the shopping bag and exit as Mr Smith, using the second passport to support this identity. The high neck of the coat and the thick gloves hid those masculine features that are so difficult to disguise.
If it wasn’t for the fact that I have read so much David Baldacci I might not have spotted the little clues that exposed her, I could have thought that she was just another innocent commuter.