At 11:18 on a November night, a porter at Helmshore station reported seeing a lone passenger waiting beneath the gas lamp at Platform Two.

The man wore a dark overcoat and carried a small leather case.

The porter, Samuel Price, watched him for several minutes before approaching.

"Train's late tonight, sir."

The stranger nodded.

"How late?"

"Ten minutes, perhaps."

"Then I have time."

Price later told Cryer that the answer had unsettled him, although he could not explain why.

When the train finally arrived, the stranger boarded the last carriage.

The train departed.

There was no difficulty until the conductor reached the carriage minutes later.

It was empty.

The leather case remained on the seat.

Cryer was summoned the following morning.

Inside the case he found a folded shirt, a brass pocket watch stopped at 11:18, and a railway ticket dated six months earlier.

The name printed upon it was Thomas Wren.

Cryer checked the railway records.

Thomas Wren had died six months before.

More troubling still, the conductor insisted he had seen the passenger board.

The porter insisted he had seen him leave.

Nobody could explain how.

Cryer returned to Platform Two that evening and examined the gas lamp.

On its iron base he found a fresh scratch.

Three words had been carved into the metal:

"NOT THE LAST."

Cryer asked that the message be photographed.

By morning, the words had been removed.

The leather case was never claimed.

The railway company recorded the incident as a clerical misunderstanding.

Cryer did not.