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

‘Very well,’ said the captain. ‘Mr Bell, proceed to the Number 1 boiler room.’

The boiler room was much as I had envisaged it. Stokers were lined up shovelling coal from a bin into the fiery open doors of the furnaces. It was hot, sweaty, grimy work. The stokers, covered in coal dust, did their jobs mechanically, perhaps thinking of home, or looking forward to an evening drink with their shipmates before retiring to their bunks. A few, on noticing the captain and chief engineer, firmed up their posture and shovelled more vigorously.

‘This is one of six boiler rooms on the ship,’ Bell said. ‘Together, they contain twenty-four double-ended boilers and five single-ended boilers, designed for a working pressure of 215 pounds. Smoke from the boilers is released through three of the ship’s four funnels. The aftermost funnel is used strictly for ventilating purposes and releasing chimney smoke from the ship’s galleys. Now, the coal that fires the engines is stored on each side of the ship and fed into cross bunkers that extend across each of the boiler rooms...’

‘Mr Bell, as I mentioned earlier, I would like to talk to some of your stokers,’ said Holmes. ‘Might we proceed into the next boiler room...’

‘What is wrong with the men right here, Commodore? Take old Fred, down there at the end. He has been stoking for White Star Lines now for...’

‘I am sure they are all fine men, but I have a particular type of individual in mind,’ Holmes said, once again leaving the perplexed engineer with an expression of total frustration. ‘Captain, would you mind if Doctor Watson and I continued on alone. I do not want to encroach on any more of your valuable time, or Mr Bell’s.’

‘Very good, Commodore. In fact, it is time that Mr Bell and I rejoined my senior officers and concluded our inspection of the ship. But please take care – I do not have to remind you of the safety hazards below deck.’

‘We will be careful, Captain, and our thanks to you and Mr Bell for this fine tour.’

Captain Smith and Bell departed through the reciprocating engine room, while Holmes and I continued into the No. 2 boiler room. While none of the stokers in the first boiler room had black beards, our luck changed in the second. Two of the men who were shovelling coal had jet-black beards. Holmes and I approached the tallest, most muscular of the two, who appeared to be in his mid-forties.

‘That looks like mighty thirsty work. Can I offer you a sip of brandy?’ Holmes took a flask from his coat pocket and, after removing the cap and taking a swallow, handed it to the tired crewman.

‘Don’t mind if I do, Admiral. Not a bit.’ The stoker took the silver flask in his big, calloused hand and poured a generous portion down his throat. ‘This coal dust, it just coats your mouth and teeth all day. I don’t mind firin’ my own furnace a little, if you know what I mean.’

‘I do indeed. I am Commodore Giles Winter and this is Doctor Watson. I am doing a little research on the Titanic for the Navy. How do you like working on her, Mr...?’

‘Hardwood, Edwin Hardwood. Pleased to meet you... Well, I like the Titanic just fine, just fine. The boiler room’s a little less confined, and a whole lot cleaner than on some other ships. But I tell you, the thing I really like is the crew’s quarters. The food’s good and they give you some livin’ space. And the skipper’s good too, real decent sort... Does he know you’re roamin’ around down here? I wouldn’t want you two gettin’ in any trouble.’

‘Oh, no problem at all,’ said Holmes, noticing that the other black-bearded stoker had put down his shovel, and was looking in our direction while mopping his brow. ‘In fact, we just left the captain next door in the aft boiler room. He was giving us a tour and let us continue ahead on our own.’ The stoker smiled and nodded, while taking another drink of brandy. ‘By the way,’ said Holmes, ‘that is quite a handsome beard you have. I was talking to one of your fellow stokers earlier. He had a black beard too and said it took him twenty minutes each day just to wash the coal dust out. Maybe you know him? I do not recall his name but he had fresh scratches on his face...’

Hardwood laughed and took another drink of brandy. ‘That sounds like young Strickley. He said he got them scratches when he fell on a pile of metal scraps. I think he maybe got a little too friendly with one of them girls in steerage he’s always sneakin’ over to see.’

‘I would like to talk to him again. You say his name is Strickley?’

‘Yah, Ed Strickley. He’s workin’ today. Number 4 boiler room, I think.’

‘Well, Mr Hardwood, it has been a pleasure meeting you. Before the Doctor and I leave, why don’t you have another sip of that brandy. Very good, is it not?’

Hardwood took another generous swallow from the flask and returned it to Holmes. ‘Indeed it is, Commodore. Life to a tired working man. Much appreciated.’

After receiving hearty handshakes from Mr Hardwood, Holmes and I moved on two compartments to No. 4 boiler room. It did not take us long to find our man.

‘Mr Strickley?’ said Holmes. ‘I am Commodore Winter and this is Doctor Watson. The chief engineer was giving us a tour of the engine rooms, and he asked Doctor Watson to take a look at those scratches of yours. He is afraid they might become infected.’

Strickley was a big man, about six feet, six inches tall, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. His hands clenched the handle of his shovel, which he held level with his waist.

‘What you talkin’ about? I ain’t been near Bell since before I got these scratches early this morning.’

‘One of your fellow shipmates told him about them,’ I interjected. ‘Apparently he was quite concerned about your health.’

‘Well, I don’t need a doctor. I cleaned it up myself. I get cuts like this all the time, and none of them killed me yet. Just fell into some metal, that’s all.’

‘You know, there was an elderly woman in first class who said she scratched an intruder in her cabin last night, someone with a beard like yours,’ Holmes said, glaring into the man’s frightened eyes. I kept my eyes on the shovel, ready to fend off any attack against Holmes or myself.

‘Well, I wasn’t nowhere near first class, and old ladies cannot see in the dark!’

‘Who said anything about it being dark?’ said Holmes.

‘If you want to make any charges, go take it up with your friend, Bell! Meanwhile, stay out of my way!’ With that, Strickley stormed through a doorway towards the forward end of the ship.

Holmes and I were the centre of attention, as we stood among the stokers, who had lost all interest in shovelling coal. ‘Well, Holmes,’ I said quietly, ‘it appears that Mr Strickley is a very likely suspect.’

‘Yes, I think I will ask the captain to arrange a meeting with our excitable stoker under more friendly conditions. Unless he is prepared to jump ship, there is nowhere he can hide.’

Chapter Eleven

LUNCHTIME ON FRIDAY 12 APRIL 1912

‘Most satisfactory, Miss Norton, most satisfactory.’

These words of support from Holmes did a world of good for our young companion. For the first time since the plans were stolen, I saw her smile. The colour was returning to her face, and her enthusiasm for finding our adversaries, and the plans, was renewed.

The three of us were sitting in the restaurant enjoying a splendid lunch. Or, should I say, I was enjoying this fine meal. I had finished my grilled mutton chops and was encouraging the last of my peas on to my fork. Holmes, during the entire meal, had been sitting back in his chair, listening intently to Miss Norton. Neither of them had touched their food.