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

‘What the devil is that!’ I gasped, backing my hands away from the device.

Someone was rattling the chain outside the door. I looked up at Futrelle and he looked back at me with an expression of utter delight.

‘We’re saved!’ he said. ‘The ship is saved!’

‘Unless it is Brandon coming back to check up on our ropes,’ I said, keeping my voice down. ‘Quickly, to the door! We will need to grab whoever it is when he comes in.’

Futrelle and I stood on either side of the door, our backs to the wall. Suddenly, I remembered something and ran back to switch off the light.

The door opened before I could return to my position. I saw the silhouette of a stooped man. He had a full, fluffy beard and mumbled to himself as he peered through the doorway. It was clearly not Brandon, but I wondered whether it might be one of his henchmen.

He slowly lifted a lamp from the floor, and pointed it directly at me. He suddenly backed away in surprise but then braced himself on the door frame and moved forward cautiously.

‘’Ere now, who is that lurkin’ about in the dark? Come out in the light now, yer ’ear?’

Futrelle took no chances. He lunged at the stooped figure as he stepped into the room. Both fell to the floor with a thud. I turned the light back on and studied the features of our visitor, who was now lying flat on his back, with Futrelle on top of him. He was an elderly man with a weathered face and a bushy beard and eyebrows. The white hair behind his receding brow was long and uncombed. The man’s grey, battered coat did not appear to be that of one of the crew. But then, he did not appear to be a passenger either, since his clothing contained a layer of soot.

‘Futrelle, I suggest that you help our visitor up to his feet to allow him to explain who he is and what his business is down in the cargo hold.’

Futrelle helped the man to his feet. Our visitor showed little gratitude. Instead, he brushed himself down and scrutinized each of us from head to toe.

‘What I am doin’ ’ere is no concern of yours,’ he said, continuing to brush dust from his sleeves. ‘And what do you mean by jumpin’ on me like that? Seems to me I did you gents a favour by lettin’ you out of ’ere.’

I was beginning to feel a little guilty. While we were justified in being cautious, he had indeed done us and everyone on board a great favour. ‘My apologies but we had to make sure that you were not in league with the man who locked us in here. But what are you doing down here yourself?’

The man grinned wryly, stood up straight, and used both hands to pull the beard from his face.

‘My dear Watson, I was simply looking for you.’

‘Holmes!’

‘Indeed it is. And I am most relieved to find that I have not lost my touch with disguises. You must admit, this one had you completely fooled.’

Chapter Nineteen

THE LATE EVENING OF SATURDAY 13 APRIL 1912

‘Holmes, you amaze me! After all these years, you still surprise me. How on earth did you find us down here?’

‘When you failed to return, I went down to third class to find you. I could not locate you in any of the public areas, so I decided that my best course of action was to follow our mysterious gambler friend, Mr Brandon. I found him in the bar.’

‘But why the disguise?’ asked Futrelle, nervously dividing his attention between Holmes and the bomb.

Holmes looked curiously at Futrelle, and then back at me.

‘My dear fellow, what do you have back there?’

‘It is a bomb...but it is not set to go off until one o’clock.’

Holmes folded his arms, nodded and stared at me with calm resignation. He made me feel like a schoolboy causing mischief in the teacher’s absence. After scratching his chin, he walked to the corner of the room and glanced down at the bomb.

‘One o’clock, you say?’

‘Yes, Brandon plans to sink the ship,’ I replied. ‘He thinks, somehow, that this will further the cause of Marxism. He does not seem to know anything about the stolen documents.’

‘I see... Well, this adds a new dimension to our mystery. I suggest that we go on deck and report to the captain.’

We debated, for a moment, whether one of us should stay behind to stand guard over the bomb. We decided that it was well enough hidden to avoid notice during the short time we were gone.

On the way up to the captain’s cabin, Holmes continued his account of how he had located us in the cargo hold. I was surprised to hear that he had resorted to a talent he had picked up years ago from London’s criminal element.

‘When I entered the bar, Brandon was seated at a table with his companions. He was pointing out something on a large sheet of paper, which was unfolded and spread across the table. I moved in more closely and discovered that it was a set of deck plans for the ship — the same kind that the captain gave to us. From time to time, he would take the pencil he was using as a pointer, and mark something on the map.

‘At the conclusion of this discussion, Brandon folded the map and put it into his coat pocket. He then stood up, picked up his empty beer glass and walked to the bar. I followed him and, in fact, was able to begin a casual conversation with him. He did not recognize me, of course, since I was no longer in the guise of Commodore Winter.’

‘But again, I must ask you, Mr Holmes, why the new disguise?’ asked Futrelle, as we hastily made our way past the post office and up the stairway that bordered the squash-rackets court.

‘I started the day by making enquiries in areas of the ship where passengers and crew might have been intimidated by the sight of an officer in uniform. I decided, for a time, to take on a less assuming civilian identity.’

‘How did you find us?’ I asked. ‘Were you able to deduce something from your encounter with Brandon?’

‘Not exactly... I picked Brandon’s pocket,’ said Holmes, taking some satisfaction in this feat. ‘And I must say, his set of deck plans was most helpful. The hold where he had imprisoned you, and hidden the bomb, was circled.’

‘Outstanding, Holmes! You may not only have saved our lives but also the ship.’

‘I fear, Watson, that I may also have given the game away. Brandon will undoubtedly become suspicious when he notices that his deck plans are missing. All the more reason to make haste in reaching the captain.’

We found the captain on the bridge, going over nautical charts with the officer of the watch. When he saw us at the doorway, he seemed somewhat irritated. I suspect our appearance may have had something to do with it. After our ordeal in the hold, Futrelle and I were badly in need of a bath and fresh clothing. And then there was Holmes...

‘I will be with you in a moment, gentlemen. Please step into my sitting room.’

‘I think, Captain, that we should talk to you at once,’ said Holmes.

The captain peered at Holmes over his reading glasses and then, without saying a word, he followed us into the adjoining room and closed the door.

‘Still masquerading in that outfit, Mr Holmes? You look like a character out of Dickens.’

‘Captain, listen carefully,’ said Holmes. ‘There is a bomb in the forward cargo hold of the orlop deck. It is set to go off at one o’clock.’

‘A bomb! What the devil are you talking about? Who put it there?’

‘Brandon. He and a small group of anarchists plan to sink this ship. They also plan to steal a lifeboat and row for a waiting ship around midnight.’

‘Anarchists! From what country? What do they want?’ The captain was clearly rattled by the news, but I sensed no panic or hesitation in his voice.