William Seil - The Furt The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - The Titanic Tragedy

‘I would be delighted. Colonel Moriarty. This is Baron Hans Von Stern and his wife, the Baroness.’

They exchanged greetings.

‘Baron, if I may ask, why are you and your wife taking this voyage?’

‘Books, Doctor Watson. I am a dealer in rare books. In fact, when we reach America, I plan to spend several weeks buying and selling. I have brought a trunk of fine old volumes with me, including some rare editions of the Bible.’

‘Then you are no doubt aware of the valuable book that is being transported to America on the Titanic ,’ said Holmes.

‘And what book is that, Commodore?’

‘Why, the jewelled copy of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam , of course. Surely you have heard about it?’

‘Oh yes, certainly, I believe I have read about it. A beautiful volume, but a little out of my price range, I’m afraid.’

‘Where in Germany are you from?’ Miss Storm-Fleming asked.

‘Munich — a beautiful city with wonderful people. Elisabeth and I entertain constantly. Have you visited our city?’

‘I regret to say that I have not. Is this your first trip to the United States?’

‘Yes, it is. We are very excited about it. When we arrive in New York, we are particularly looking forward to American theatre. I have heard that many of the productions are most lavish, filled with powerful arrangements of dance and song.’

‘There’s a great variety of theatre in New York,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming. ‘Everything from the large musical productions you have just described to quieter, more restrained plays — powerful in their own way.’

‘Perhaps we will have the time to sample several performances. You apparently have spent a good deal of time in New York theatres.’

‘Before I was married, I lived in New York and worked as an actress.’

‘Excellent! We would appreciate your guidance in selecting theatrical productions...’

We were interrupted by a team of waiters bringing the main course. I had just finished an excellent salad, consisting of cucumber, strips of salmon and a fine dressing. For my entrée, I selected lamb with mint sauce, accompanied by green peas and new potatoes. One of the waiters poured the bottle of Bordeaux I had ordered for Miss Storm-Fleming and myself.

I had been so involved in our dinner conversation that I failed fully to appreciate the magic of my surroundings. Diners, after several glasses of wine, were engaged in lively, demonstrative conversations. It had all the colour and elegance of one of London’s finest restaurants, combined with the adventure of a trans-Atlantic crossing.

In a recessed bay across the room, Mr J Bruce Ismay, owner of the White Star Line, sat at the head of a small table. He seemed to be enjoying himself — and why not? The Titanic ’s first voyage was cause for great pride and celebration.

At the far end of our table, Miss Norton was charming Bishop — and with great success, I might add. The shy young officer was becoming quite talkative. I looked forward to Miss Norton’s account of their conversation later in the evening.

Brandon and the baron too had been having an involved conversation. The baron spoke with firm hand gestures, while Brandon sat with his forearm on the table, speaking in calm tones.

‘Your understanding of Germany needs improving, Mr Brandon,’ said the baron. ‘The lower classes have an excellent standard of living. While I hate to disagree with a fellow countryman, Marx’s philosophy is filled with flaws and is completely undeserving of all the attention it has received.’

Brandon’s face reddened. He pointed a finger at the baron and began to reply. But upon noting that he had become the centre of attention, he sat back quietly in his chair. ‘No great matter,’ he said with a smile. ‘I hope you will excuse my playing devil’s advocate, but I really enjoy a good debate. No offence taken, I hope.’

The baron paused and eyed Brandon suspiciously. He looked back at the baroness, who had put her hand on his shoulder. ‘No, Mr Brandon. Of course not. I too enjoy a good argument — sometimes to the point of getting carried away. I hope, as well, that I have not offended you.’

‘No harm done at all, except that our dinner is getting cold. Shall we begin?’

‘I agree. Lively conversation excites the appetite.’ The baron held up his wine glass, as if proposing a toast, and turned his attention to his meal.

Holmes and I exchanged glances. We had indeed assembled an interesting group of dining companions.

Our dinner party concluded without further incident. In fact, as everyone followed Captain Smith’s lead and rose from their chairs, there was a spirited exchange of smiles and handshakes. After so much food and wine, I yawned and thought for a moment about retiring to my cabin. But this was the RMS Titanic , and the night was still young.

Chapter Nine

THE LATE EVENING OF THURSDAY 11 APRIL 1912

Holmes puffed on his pipe as his mind sifted through the day’s events. I relaxed with a brandy, feeling more confident than Holmes that the situation on board was well under control. Indeed, we had encountered a surprising collection of passengers. Yet our inquiries thus far remained precautionary. There was no reason to believe that the plans were in danger.

Holmes and I had conversed a little with our dining companions before retiring to the smoking room. Miss Norton elected to remain on the dance floor for a while longer. Before we left — while young men waited patiently for an opportunity to dance with her — she told us of her conversation with Bishop. It seems that the young officer previously served aboard a German liner, the Deutschland. He claimed that he had relied on his early language training in English schools for a working knowledge of German. Yet, when Miss Norton asked him a question in German, his reply, also in German, seemed fluent.

‘I say, Holmes, Miss Norton was quite the focus of attention out on the dance floor tonight, don’t you think?’

Holmes, after a moment’s pause, looked away from the cloud of pipe smoke above his head.

‘What was that, Watson?’

‘I asked whether you noticed Miss Norton’s popularity on the dance floor?’

‘Oh, yes indeed. In fact, I was honoured — with all those young men around — that she danced the first dance with me.’

‘After all these years, Holmes, I did not know you could dance.’

‘A detective travelling incognito must know many things, Watson.’

Holmes puffed on his pipe once more, then turned to me and murmured, ‘In fact, I noticed that you too have not lost your touch.’

‘Yes, Miss Storm- Fleming is a good partner. It was a shame that she had to return to her cabin so early. I did not notice her drinking that much wine but apparently it made her very sleepy.’

‘Just as well, Watson. There’s work to be done. Did you notice that Brandon and the baron have rather strong, opposing political views. And do you not find it surprising that a man who spends his time gambling with wealthy passengers is also a devoted reader of Karl Marx. Perhaps he sees himself as a present-day Robin Hood, stealing from the rich, and so on...although somehow I doubt that his proceeds go to the poor.’

‘I say, Moriarty seems very pleasant. Not at all what I expected.’

‘He certainly is on his best behaviour — especially after the things he said about his brother’s death. Perhaps he’s turned over a new leaf.’

‘And the Futrelles? They seem harmless enough.’

‘Yes, Watson. But do not forget, Futrelle has a keen mind, and he is very observant. His curiosity could pose a threat to our work at some stage of the game.’