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

‘Lost?’ said Brandon. ‘Swede and I were just about to get more coffee. Perhaps we can help you.’

‘We can manage. But thank you for the offer.’

‘No trouble at all. In fact, I know a short cut. It is around the corner, to the right. Just follow me.’

Futrelle and I exchanged glances, then followed Brandon’s lead. Swede, instead of accompanying his companion, followed behind us. The journey was only a short one. Soon after we rounded the corner, we approached a stairwell.

Brandon hurried on ahead, stepping down the stairway instead of up. ‘We will have to go down a couple of decks first,’ he said. ‘This stairway only goes up one more deck. But if we go down to G Deck, we will reach a corridor that will take us back to the lifts.’

I smiled, looking back briefly to determine Swede’s location. ‘On second thoughts, I think we will go back the way we came. Futrelle and I want to speak to some of the crew on our way out.’

Brandon appeared disappointed that his offer of help was rejected. ‘Are you sure? There are some interesting crew areas here as well.’

‘Quite sure.’ I changed my direction. ‘Thank you, very much.’ After a few steps, Futrelle and I stopped short. Swede was holding a shiny revolver. It was pointed directly at me.

‘I got ’em, Mr Brandon.’

Futrelle turned his head back towards Brandon, who was climbing back up the stairs. ‘I say, Brandon, does your friend always carry a gun when he gets coffee?’

Brandon laughed. ‘Sometimes the kitchen is reluctant to fill the pot.’

Brandon too was carrying a revolver, somewhat smaller than Swede’s military issue. He motioned for me to walk down the stairs.

‘We will be putting our weapons away, gentlemen. We do not want to disturb the passengers and crew. But just remember, we are still holding them in our pockets. And we have nothing to lose if you force us to use them. But we cannot allow you to report us to the captain.’

We continued down the stairs, with Swede close behind us and Brandon leading the way. As we made our way down one deck, and then another, we crossed paths with a young steward who was scurrying up the stairs with a tray full of dirty dishes. It occurred to me that bumping the tray out of his hands might create a sufficient distraction to allow us to overcome our captors. But I decided that such a move would place this innocent passerby at too great a risk.

The stairway ended at G Deck, where Brandon motioned for us to continue down a dark corridor. At the end of that hallway we found a hatch in the floor, with the doorway open.

‘Down the ladder, gentlemen,’ said Brandon. ‘And please mind your step.’

Swede was the first to descend, and I followed. The chamber was dark but there was enough light for me to see that I was in a familiar area. It was the cargo hold where the motorcars were stored, where Miss Storm-Fleming had her unfortunate meeting with Bishop. My mind raced through the possibilities. If I could somehow break free, this cavern provided ample opportunities to hide. I would, of course, be apprehended in time — unless I was able to make my way into the adjoining luggage or post rooms. My prospects for finding help in those areas were not great but the next section was the forward boiler room, where I was likely to find some very strong and hearty members of the crew. Then there was Futrelle to consider. What if he was not able to break free? I decided that he would be no worse off, and perhaps even safer if Brandon knew I was on my way to find help.

Swede was well below me, and about to step off the ladder onto the floor. I was not a young man, but I had always made time to exercise and keep healthy. After glancing upwards and seeing Futrelle in the hatchway, I let go of the ladder and jumped directly on top of Swede. He let out a startled cry and fell to the floor. I could hear the sound of his gun clanking on to the deck.

I too had fallen flat on my back and a sharp pain was penetrating my shoulder and arm. Fortunately, my legs felt fine and I was able to get to my feet. I was surprised to see that Futrelle had not moved. He was still in the hatchway, apparently under Brandon’s watchful eye. Brandon was not even calling to his companion. He apparently felt that Swede could handle any difficulties.

Brandon’s judgement proved to be correct. Swede, still on the floor, grabbed my leg just as I got to my feet. I heard the sound of metal sliding briefly along the deck and a moment later Swede was on top of me. I felt a stinging blow to the back of my head, and then drifted off into unconsciousness.

Chapter Seventeen

THE AFTERNOON OF SATURDAY 13 APRIL 1912

Ifollowed the roar of the rushing water. The pathway was wet and my feet slipped as I ran. Sweat poured from my brow, yet the cold, damp air penetrated my clothing. I paused to button my coat to the collar but this was only for a moment. I continued even faster, mindful of the danger that awaited my friend.

After a time, the trail turned sharply towards the sound of the water. The path was level here and it was easier to keep my footing. I trudged along the wet ground until I reached a wooden bridge. It was there, in the mist, that I saw my friend, Sherlock Holmes, fighting hand to hand with a man dressed in a black cloak.

I stepped forward to join Holmes in the struggle but my foot broke through the planks as if they were paper. I saved myself from plunging into the falls below by grabbing the rail.

Ahead, Holmes and the cloaked figure continued their battle. For them, despite their chaotic movements, the planks held firm.

The cloaked figure raised his hand, which held a sturdy walking stick. As his arm moved back to strike a blow, his cloak fell away, uncovering the military uniform he wore underneath.

The stick swept downwards, but Holmes moved to the side and avoided what would have been a crushing blow to his head. His opponent, attempting to regain his balance, twisted around. Through the mist, I saw the face of Colonel James Moriarty. He was laughing at me, as his arms surrounded Holmes in a tight grasp.

Just then, the deck of the bridge fell through. I looked in horror as I saw my friend and the colonel, still in combat, plummet towards the raging water.

I stood there, looking down and listening to the steady roar of the falls. But then I heard another sound directly behind me — an animal. It was a deep, penetrating growl that developed a gurgling resonance as saliva filled the beast’s mouth.

I continued to look towards the falls, terrified that the slightest movement would invite an attack. Slowly, I turned my head, while grasping the end of the bridge railing. There, crouched on top of a boulder, was a beast of enormous proportions. Its black, moist coat shimmered in the faint rays of light that penetrated the mist. The hound’s eyes blazed with a yellow glow. Its huge white teeth were fully exposed behind its dripping jowls.

I tried to move, but I found that my arms and legs were frozen in place. I sensed that the creature knew this, and was waiting there, taking its time to strike. The wait was not long. With a sudden wail, it sprang forward, propelling its huge mass on to me. We crashed into the bridge rail, and then down, down towards the dark, rushing water.

I continued to fall, powerless to save myself. Suddenly, I heard someone calling my name. It was a calm voice, but not a friendly one. It repeated my name over and over again.

‘Doctor Watson, Doctor Watson... Good, I see you are coming round. I would never have forgiven myself if Swede had damaged you permanently.’

Brandon stood in front of me, holding a lamp beside his face. Swede was seated on a crate, fingering his open flask. Futrelle, sitting up and alert, was bound hand and foot. I tried to raise my arm to rub my throbbing head but discovered that I was bound as well.