A Tool Case, a Photocopier Engineer, & A Unexpected Chain of Events

"True, funny stories from a South London photocopier engineer who spent a few years fixing machines across London."

This is the true story that ended up causing far more drama than anyone could ever have imagined. The thought of losing my tools of the trade was unthinkable……

Yet, on one ordinary working day, somewhere between a customer visit and a quick stop at a coffee shop, my tool case vanished without a trace.

At first, I assumed I had simply misplaced it. A quick phone call or a retracing of my steps would surely solve the problem, but as the hours passed, the mystery only deepened. What began as a minor inconvenience, soon escalated into a chain of events involving frantic searches, confused staff, police cordons, and a conclusion, so unexpected that nobody could have predicted it.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

In the late 1990s, my career took an interesting turn as I was working as a photocopier engineer for a large well-known company serving businesses throughout central London. It was a role that took me to visiting a wide variety of customers and dealing with everything from routine maintenance to unexpected copier breakdowns. At the time, in the early 90s, many businesses relied heavily on large format copiers to reproduce architects' plans, engineering drawings, and other large format documents. These machines were often critical to their day-to-day operations, and when they broke down, work would quickly grind to a halt. My job was to get them back up and running again as quickly as possible, and often under considerable pressure from customers who needed to meet their important deadlines. It was a fast-paced environment, as these machines were often in constant use around the clock. When they went wrong, they went wrong. It could almost bring everything to a standstill until they were up and running again. It was a fascinating job that took me all over the place and introduced me to a remarkable variety of people, businesses, and situations. On this day, after wrapping up my first assignment at around 1030 AM, I was making my way through the busy streets heading towards central London when the Office Control Centre called me with details of my next job. The destination was at Marble Arch W one. It was just a routine service call, the sort of job that I carried out all the time. Once I had arrived, I spent around an hour and a half thoroughly inspecting and maintaining the photocopier, carrying out its annual service, and ensuring everything was in perfect working order before I departed. As midday approached and my stomach began reminding me that it was time for a lunch, having finished up the job, I set about finding a nearby cafe. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to recharge, just before facing the rest of the day's demands, and I was looking forward to a brief respite from the relentless pace of the West End hustle and bustle. Before heading to the cafe, I checked on the parking meter just to make sure I still had enough time left. The wardens were on commission in them days. There was about half an hour left on the meter, which was more than enough time, so I headed into the cafe, ordered a bacon sandwich, and a steaming cup of coffee. Rather than staying there, I then returned to the car to enjoy a quiet break. As I sat there, savouring my meal and making the most of my thirty minute break, I noticed an unusual amount of activity in the surrounding streets. Sirens echoed through the air as police cars raced past, then one after another, all apparently heading in the same direction. I found myself wondering what on earth was going on. Little did I know that before the day was over, I would discover exactly what all the commotion was about. A few moments later, as I prepared to drive off, I noticed several police officers moving swiftly to cordon off the road, blue and white tape being stretched across the road, bringing traffic to a standstill and preventing any vehicles from passing through. It quickly became apparent that something serious had happened. Whether it was an accident or some other type of incident, I had no idea, but the scale of the response certainly caught my attention, as there had been terrorist activity around this time. Curiosity got the better of me. To my astonishment, all the activity appeared to be centered around the very cafe that I had visited just half hour ago. My first thought was that there must have been some sort of disturbance inside. Perhaps someone had been injured, or maybe there had been an argument that escalated. Whatever the reason, nobody nearby seemed to explain exactly what was going on. I simply watched from a distance, completely unaware that I was witnessing the beginning of a chain of events that would soon involve me personally in the most unexpected way imaginable. The experience had left me somewhat perplexed, but also grateful that I could just crack on with the rest of my day. So, back into the car I left, tuning into LBC to try to keep up to date with the latest traffic reports whilst heading off. Just before I went, I then got a call from HQ with details of my next assignment. As it turned out, the call was back to South London, and progress through Marble Arch was painfully slow. Shortly after 2 PM, I arrived back in Catford, South London, to assist a building company that was struggling with yet another photocopier breakdown. The urgency was obvious as they had already been waiting several days for an engineer and needed to send some important architect's drawings to their client without any further delay. So I made my way to the boot of the car, ready to grab my toolcase and get to work. To my surprise, my tools weren't there. My case had done a vanishing act. For a moment, I just stood there, staring into the boot. Where on earth did I put it? The sudden realization left me stunned, hoping for a stroke of luck. I checked behind the driver's seat, but the toolcase was nowhere to be found. I searched the car again, convinced I must have overlooked it, but there was still no sign of it. I tried desperately to remember the last time I had seen it, mentally retracing my steps from earlier in the day. The more I thought about it, the less certain I became. I had no idea what was about to unfold. As soon as I realized my tool case was missing, I immediately contacted the manager of the print room at my previous customer's site near Marble Arch. I explained the situation, convinced that I must have left the case behind and asked whether they could check for it and leave it at reception for me to collect. However, things were about to become much more complicated. The manager admitted that he couldn't recall seeing my toolcase anywhere, but kindly offered to have a good look around. The case was nowhere to be found. I was genuinely surprised, since their place had been my last customer visit, and was convinced that I must have left it there. Nevertheless, the manager assured me that a thorough search had been carried out. The team had checked around the machine, looked behind and underneath it, searched the surrounding area. Unfortunately, none of their efforts produced any results. I sat in the car for a few moments, trying to retrace my movements from earlier that day. Then, suddenly it came back to me. After leaving the customers' premises near Marble Arch, I'd stopped at a cafe for a lunch break. A sinking feeling hit me as I realized there was every chance maybe I had left my toolcase in there. I couldn't locate any contact details whatsoever, and to make matters worse, I couldn't even remember the name of the place. That left me with only one option. I would have to return there in person to collect it. By now the afternoon traffic was beginning to build up, made even worse by the school runs and the usual congestion that comes with driving through London at that time of day. Nevertheless, I had little choice. My toolcase contained everything I needed to do my job, so I set off once again towards central London, determined to recover what I was now convinced was a forgotten toolcase sitting somewhere inside that cafe. At least that was what I hoped. About forty five minutes into the drive, I decided to switch off my ABBA CD and tune back into LBC for the latest traffic and news. I hoped the bulletin might help me plan the remainder of my journey more effectively. Part way through the news report, a story caught my attention. The news was saying that earlier that afternoon there had been a police incident in the Marble Arch area off central London. The report explained the police cordons had caused significant disruption to traffic throughout the area, although conditions were now gradually returning to normal. I listened with mild curiosity. After all, Marble Arch was exactly where I'd been working earlier that day. At the time, I simply assumed it was the same incident that I had briefly witnessed while finishing my lunch break. It sounded as though whatever had happened had now been resolved, so I gave little further thought. My mind was still focused on one thing and one thing only, finding my missing toolcase. What I didn't realise was that these two seemingly unrelated events were about to collide in a way that nobody could have predicted. After what felt like an eternity battling through London's traffic, I eventually arrived back at the sandwich shop that I had visited earlier. To my dismay, it was closed for the day, as these places often opened around six AM, so the place was completely deserted. I peered through the window, hoping to catch sight of my tool case somewhere inside. I scanned every corner that I could see, even looked towards the back of the premises, hoping a member of staff might still be there tidying up or preparing for the next day, but there was no one. The lights were off, the doors were locked, and the shop appeared completely empty. So my heart sank. Standing there on the pavement, staring through the glass, I realized I had absolutely no idea what to do next. The sandwich shop was closed, my toolcase had vanished, and every lead I had followed up so far had come to nothing. At the same time, I couldn't stop thinking about my customer back in Catford and the copier that still needed repairing. I had already avoided several calls from HQ chasing me for when I was due to arrive. The customer had already been waiting several days for an engineer, and I knew their work was being held up until that machine was fixed. I weighed up my options. Without my toolcase, there was little chance of carrying out that repair. Yet abandoning the customer altogether wasn't something I could do either. The situation was rapidly turning into a nightmare. What had started out as an ordinary working day had now become a full blown mystery, and I was no closer to finding my missing toolcase. I happened to bump into one of those chaps you often see outside the nearby hotels, you know the sort I mean, the doormen in green suits with hats. They greet their guests, help with the luggage, and flag down taxis when their guests need one. I thought there was a chance he might have noticed something unusual. I explained my predicament and told him that I was trying to locate a missing tool case, which I believed I had accidentally left in the sandwich shop earlier that day. To my surprise, his expression immediately changed. It was as though he knew exactly what I was talking about. At that moment, I had a feeling that was finally about to get my first real break. I explained my predicament to him and asked whether he had happened to see a black tool case lying around anywhere. To my surprise, his face immediately lit up. Funny you should mention that, he said. There was quite a commotion around here earlier. Someone reported a suspicious item that had been left unattended outside the cafe. For a moment, I wasn't quite sure what he had meant. Then the penny began to drop. A suspicious item? I asked. That's right, he replied. The police turned up, then the road was closed off, and before long there were emergency services everywhere. It caused quite a stir, I can tell you. As he spoke, my mind raced back to the scenes I had witnessed earlier that day. The police cars, the fire engines, the blue and white tape stretched across the road, and the growing crowd gathering around the cafe. Suddenly, those events no longer seemed unrelated. A horrible thought began to form in my mind, and the butterflies in my stomach was making an awful noise. Surely he couldn't be talking about my toolcase, could he? And that's when the story took a rather unexpected turn. Until that moment, I'd been treating the missing toolcase as nothing more than an inconvenient mistake. Sooner or later, it would eventually turn up. Now, standing on the pavement outside the closed sandwich shop, listening to the doorman describe the chaos that had unfolded earlier that afternoon, I began to realize that my missing toolcase might be at the centre of all of this. Suddenly, everything made sense. The incident on the radio, all the strange events I had witnessed while eating my lunch earlier suddenly started to make sense. As the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, I felt a growing sense of disbelief. Could it really be possible that the suspicious package everyone had been talking about was nothing than a photocopier engineer's forgotten toolcase? The more I thought about it, the more likely it became a reality. What I learned next confirmed my worst suspicions. Apparently, the police had arrived and treated my toolcase as a suspicious item after it had been found unattended in the doorway of the sandwich shop. Not knowing who it belonged to or what it contained, they had taken no chances. The area had been cordoned off, the nearby premises had been evacuated, and the bomb squad had been called to investigate. Then came the part I could hardly believe. After assessing the situation, they had decided to carry out a controlled explosion on the case. Apparently, it was brought out with a man in a white suit, it was then covered in sandbags. I just stood there, staring at the doorman in complete disbelief. For the first time ever for a few moments, I was genuinely lost for words. My toolcase, the one containing all the specialist tools and equipment I relied on every day to do my job. I had spent the entire afternoon wondering what all the commotion was about, completely unaware that I was the cause of it. All the explanations I had considered for my missing toolcase. This had never crossed my mind. Yet somehow, through a combination of bad luck, unfortunate timing, and a forgotten case left in the wrong place, I had inadvertently triggered a major security alert in the middle of central London, and to make matters worse, I still had a photocopy awaiting to be repaired in Catford. While I had been racing around London, trying to track down a missing toolcase and get back to my customer, a full scale police operation had been unfolding because of it. I had stood nearby watching the activity unfold, curious about what had happened, never once suspecting that I was looking at the aftermath of my own forgotten toolcase. The very incident that had caused such disruption across the area had been staring me in the face all along. Yet the possibility that it was connected to me had never crossed my mind. Standing there outside the sandwich shop, I couldn't decide whether to laugh, cry, or simply shake my head in disbelief. It was one of those moments that was so absurd, so completely unexpected, that if someone else had told me that story, I probably would have never believed it myself.