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

At half past eight, I had just adjusted my tie and was brushing the jacket of my oldest brown suit, when I heard a knock at the door. I was surprised to find Miss Storm-Fleming outside, looking warm and comfortable in her golden brown dress and yellow woollen shawl.

‘Good morning, Doctor Watson. I would like to talk to you for a few minutes, if I may.’

‘Miss Storm-Fleming, please forgive me but I was just leaving for a meeting. Perhaps you would care to join me on deck for a moment, before my appointment?’

She answered my invitation with a mischievous smile. ‘I brought a visitor,’ she said.

‘A visitor? I don’t...’

She looked down the corridor to her right and beckoned to her guest. A moment later, a small boy came forward and stood by her side. He was dressed in a dark blue suit with a matching blue cap.

‘This is my friend, Tommy,’ Miss Storm-Fleming said. ‘Tommy, meet Doctor Watson.’

Attempting to conceal my puzzlement, I extended my hand to the short, young gentleman. ‘How do you do, young man?’

He looked at me, wide-eyed, and then back at Miss Storm-Fleming. Then, after placing the book he was carrying under his arm, he reached out and shook my hand.

‘I hope we do not disturb you, but I told Tommy earlier that I would introduce him to you, and this seemed as good a time as any.’

With a burst of energy, Tommy suddenly chose that moment to overcome his shyness.

‘Doctor Watson, I have read everything you have written about Mr Holmes! I brought this book, hoping you would sign it for me. My mother said I should not bother you, but...’

‘No bother at all, Tommy. How old are you?’

‘I’m ten now, eleven next month.’ He hesitated for a moment, looking down at his book, and then up at me. ‘Do you suppose Mr Holmes would let me join his Baker Street Irregulars? I’m really observant and he wouldn’t even have to pay me...’

‘I am afraid all those adventures happened a long time ago, Tommy. All of the Irregulars are grown up now. One even works for Scotland Yard.’

Tommy’s excitement crumbled as he listened to the bad news.

‘But I am sure that if Mr Holmes ever decides to recruit a new team of Irregulars, he would be proud to include a fine young man like you. I will mention your name to him.’

‘My surname is Roberts. I live in London with my parents when I am not at school.’ He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a wrinkled business card. ‘This is my father’s card, from where he works. If you contact him, he will give me the message. He reads your books too.’

‘Cox & Co., a very fine bank. I go there myself... Let us see, what have you here?’ I took the book he was holding and walked over to the dressing table. The Hound of the Baskervilles , I remember that case very well. Have you read it?’

‘Twice, I’m on my third time now.’

I opened the book to the title page and began to write. ‘Three times! I am flattered. How do you find time to play with your friends, with all this reading?’

‘On this trip, he has been standing by the rail most of the time, watching the children play down on the third-class deck,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming.

‘A little bored, Tommy?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Well, me too sometimes.’ After completing the inscription, I returned the book to him. ‘There you are, young man, and I will let you know if Mr Holmes needs any help.’

‘Why don’t you run along now, Tommy,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming. ‘I need to speak to Doctor Watson. And don’t forget to say, “Thank you”.’

‘Thank you, very much, Doctor Watson.’

‘My pleasure, Tommy.’

The boy turned and walked towards the door.

‘Oh, Tommy, before you leave, what is the number on the outside of my cabin door...without looking, now?’

‘Why, C28, sir.’

‘Excellent! You are a very observant young man. You will make a fine detective.’

The boy grinned from ear to ear, grasped his book tightly and skipped out of the door.

‘Thank you, Miss Storm-Fleming, for that introduction. I approve of your taste in friends. Shall we walk towards the hall?’

‘I made friends with you, did I not?’ She smiled, but her face lacked the energy and spirit that I had seen so often over the past few days. I could tell that at this particular moment, she was very much in need of a friend.

‘I understand that you and Murdoch found one of the rounds fired from your gun. Did you have any luck in finding the other?’

‘No, but they are still looking.’

‘Do not be concerned — I think the captain believes you. He is suspicious, though, that you may not be telling him everything.’

‘And what is your opinion, Doctor Watson?’

‘I must confess, I sense there is something more.’

Miss Storm-Fleming lowered her eyes and then folded her arms, as if feeling a chill in the air. After a moment’s contemplation she began walking faster along the hall. ‘If there is something more, do you trust me enough to remain my friend?’

‘Indeed, Miss Storm-Fleming. I would also like to think that you trust me enough to confide in me.’

‘And is there anything you would like to tell me, Doctor Watson?’

We turned to each other and smiled.

‘Whatever your deep, dark secret, take care,’ I said. ‘You have had more than enough adventure for one voyage. Try to be a typical passenger, for a change.’

‘Why, Doctor Watson, I would never dream of being typical,’ she replied, as she hastened her step away from me.

Then she was gone, leaving only the scent of perfume and the warmth of her smile.

Chapter Sixteen

THE MORNING OF SATURDAY 13 APRIL 1912

Oatmeal porridge, vegetable stew, fried tripe and onions, Swedish bread and marmalade and, of course, tea. The third-class dining room offered a hearty breakfast and delightful conversation. Futrelle and I had seated ourselves at a long table, next to a Scandinavian family. Jan and Lise Svensson, their son and two daughters were on their way to Massachusetts, where Jan had a position assured on his brother Sven’s fishing boat. Both Jan and Lise were fluent in English and their children were rapidly developing a basic knowledge of the language. In their early thirties, the couple had mixed feelings about leaving their home and loved ones. But Sven’s letters had gone into detail about how living in America had offered opportunities for his own children, and how happy his family was. And, above all else, Jan and Lise wanted a better life for their children.

The Svenssons said they were finding their first trans-Atlantic crossing to be the thrill of a lifetime. They occupied a four-berth cabin at the ship’s stern on F Deck. This afforded them easy access to the dining room, where they also ate lunch and dinner. The dining room was bright and cheerful, with white enamelled walls. The long tables were tastefully decorated and the wooden chairs, though uncushioned, were quite comfortable.

Futrelle told the Svenssons that he was preparing a newspaper article on the Titanic and, consequently, he was gathering information on each class of service. They were more than happy to offer their own evaluation of steerage and its facilities — information that proved useful to Futrelle and me as we planned our day’s activities.

Mrs Svensson said the General Room was comfortable, though not well equipped with recreational opportunities for the children. Fortunately, the Svensson children had found playmates and, for the most part, they had improvised games and activities to occupy their time. She noted, however, that the General Room did have a fine piano, and some of the passengers whiled away the hours playing some enjoyable tunes.