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

‘We all have work to do. Our most important task is to assist Mr Andrews in finding the other bomb... Carry on, Mr Hanson.’

Smith began to herd us towards the door. As the last of us stepped over the threshold, the captain turned towards the electrician.’

‘Mr Hanson,’ he said.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You have our thanks and our prayers.’

‘Thank you, sir. I will report back once I have finished.’

We passed through the next cargo hold and into the post room. There, we saw Andrews and Miss Norton peering over the deck plans, which were laid flat on a sorting table. The post-room crew had gone off duty, and they were alone in the room.

‘Do you have anything to report, Mr Andrews?’ asked the captain.

‘We checked all the positions marked in pencil, and we found nothing.’

‘Do you need any help — search parties...that sort of thing?’

Still studying the plans, Andrews replied, ‘I am hoping that we can reason with them. Assuming Brandon knew what he was doing, it must be strategically placed.’

Holmes slid himself between Andrews and Miss Norton, to gaze at the plans.

‘Let me see,’ said Holmes. ‘Mr Andrews, if I recall correctly, the ship can remain afloat with any two of its sixteen holds flooded. Is that not the case?’

‘Or any three of the first five.’

‘What other factors are important?’ Holmes used the stem of his pipe as a pointer. ‘This first bomb was wedged in a corner between the bulkhead and the hull. Might we expect the second bomb to be placed in a similar position?’

Andrews squeezed in closer to the plans and ran his finger along the length of the ship. ‘It would be the best way of ensuring success, from the anarchists’ point of view, but look here. The coal bunkers are up against the bulkheads throughout the mid-section of the ship. Access would be very difficult in most areas.’ Andrews paused, and looked up at Holmes. ‘Although, igniting the coal dust would tend to amplify the explosion... But no, that is a little far-fetched.’

Holmes walked towards the aft wall, which had a box of parcels in front of it. A canvas was draped over it and tied down at each corner.

‘What about here?’ asked Holmes. ‘According to the plans, there is a coal bunker on the other side of this bulkhead.’

‘You are quite right, Commodore,’ said the captain, walking to Holmes. ‘But as you can see, that box goes all the way up to the hull. There is no room for a bomb.’

‘What about the hold on the port side?’

A baggage locker, locked and filled to capacity,’ said the captain.

‘Commodore Winter may be on to something.’ Andrews abandoned his deck plans and strode rapidly over to the pile of parcels. ‘An explosion here would flood two more compartments. The hull plating is thicker on the other side of the bulkhead, but the exploding coal...’

‘Possible, Mr Andrews, but not very likely,’ the captain replied. ‘This room is secured after the post-room crew goes off duty. After that, there are regular safety checks. There would be no time to come in here, unstack the parcels, plant a bomb and restore everything to its original position.’

‘If they used a bomb like the other one, it would have a twelve-hour timer,’ Boxhall said. ‘They could not set it up for any longer than that.’

‘And the best location would be at deck level,’ Andrews added. ‘An interesting thought, anyway, Commodore.’

‘This canvas has been cut,’ Holmes said. ‘Mind you, I did not say torn. It has been sliced with a knife.’

The captain kneeled down next to Holmes and examined the opening in the thick cloth. He then looked at Holmes, but did not say a word.

Holmes lifted the bottom of the canvas, revealing the end of a parcel. It was wrapped neatly in paper, with the string tied in a bow. The end of the package was stamped in red with the letters ‘WWU’.

‘WWU?’ said the captain, feeling the end of the package. ‘What do you suppose that means? Some university, perhaps?’

‘Workers of the World, Unite!’ shouted Miss Norton. All eyes turned immediately to the young woman, who seemed a little embarrassed by the sudden attention. ‘I mean, I saw that before, somewhere...read it in some magazine, I think.’

‘Very good, Miss Norton!’ said Holmes, smiling. ‘I think we may be on to something. Did you notice that the string is bowed at the end of the parcel? That is a little unusual... I think I will attempt to pull it open to see what happens.’

I was not entirely sure that pulling on the string was a good idea. After all, it could have been attached to the triggering device. But there was no time to protest. Holmes reached over and untied the string with a firm yank. Moments later, he was pulling away the paper, and removing a square of cardboard. This uncovered a round opening in the package.

‘Does anyone have a match?’

Boxhall pulled a match from his pocket and gave it to Holmes, who struck it against a crate and used it to illuminate the interior of the box.

‘Well, well, well... I see a bottle, and some electrical items. I believe we have found our second bomb.’

‘Incredible!’ exclaimed the captain. ‘How did it get down at the bottom of the pile? One of the post-room crew must have...’

‘Or, someone posing as a member of the crew,’ Holmes interjected. ‘In any case, the bomb was placed here, in this position, at the beginning of the voyage. After that, setting the timing device became a matter of opening the end of the package and turning a switch. Any skilled thief could accomplish that without anyone noticing.’

‘Ingenious,’ said Futrelle. ‘In fact, if you do not mind, Commodore, this kind of thing might be a nice touch for one of Professor Van Dusen’s adventures.’

‘Indeed, Futrelle,’ said Holmes. ‘I am sure the anarchists will raise no objection if you include it in one of your stories.’

Hanson chose that moment to walk into the room. His big red handkerchief was soaking wet as he mopped the sweat off his hands and face. As he walked into the room, he looked like a man who had just run a mile in the hot sun.

‘Well, sir, the bomb is all taken care of. I have removed the triggering device. So if you don’t mind, I will run up to my quarters and...’

‘No time for that now, Hanson. You will find bomb number two inside that box.’

Boxhall ran back to steady the man, whose legs seemed to be giving out beneath him.

The captain spoke. ‘And now, gentlemen...Miss Norton, now that the danger to the ship has passed, let us pay our respects to Mr Brandon and his friends. If the search party has not yet discovered them, we know where they will be at midnight.’

Chapter Twenty-One

MIDNIGHT ON SUNDAY 14 APRIL 1912

Imust confess to being a creature of comfort. Nothing pleases me more than sitting in front of the fireplace, catching up on my reading. But to his credit, Holmes has sent frequent ripples through what might have been a life of tranquillity. How many times have I been pulled away from my easy chair, or left my dinner on the table, to go running into the night on some adventure? And my life has been the richer for it.

But there is one form of discomfort that I simply cannot abide. Old soldier that I am, I have never become used to the penetrating chill of a cold wind. And there is no wind worse than the kind that occurs on the open sea.

I was contemplating the warmth of my cabin that Saturday night as I crouched behind the lifeboat, with my service revolver in my coat pocket. The wind was whipping across the deck and the temperature was below freezing. All in all, this was not my idea of a pleasure cruise.