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

Holmes was staring intently at the toys on the table. He had arranged them in a pattern. It appeared to be a formal setting of some kind.

‘What is it, Holmes?’

‘Do you recognize it, Watson? Do you see it?’

‘See what, Holmes?’ Miss Norton appeared puzzled as well.

‘My God, Watson, look around you!’

I looked more closely and ventured a guess. ‘The smoking room? The furniture does look familiar, but...’

‘I tell you, Watson, if I am right about this, I will personally decorate your friend Tommy as the greatest Baker Street Irregular of them all.’

‘Finish your drinks quickly. We are going to take a trip down to the reception room.’

Miss Norton and I stared at each other in wonder. ‘The model of the Titanic ?’ I said. ‘But that is locked in a glass case.’

‘Locks can be opened,’ he said. ‘In fact, I would consider it to be highly likely that the late Mr Bishop had a key.’

‘Is not that a little far-fetched, Holmes? You think someone might have cleared out a section of the model and hidden the plans inside?’ asked Miss Norton.

‘If I am wrong, I will be duly embarrassed. But at the moment it is the best hypothesis we have.’

‘We will need a key, Holmes, and the captain is asleep.’

‘We will go down and take a look first. If it appears the thing has been tampered with, we may have to wake him up.’

‘I would hate to be the one to do it,’ I said. ‘Hell hath no fury like...’

At that moment, we felt a jarring motion and the toys began to move across the table. So did our brandy glasses. At the same time, there was a low, continuous noise, which could best be described as something between a whine and a roar. It went on for a nerve-wracking period of time. In fact, it was less than a minute.

‘What the devil was that!’ I shouted. Other passengers were looking excitedly about the room. Even the marathon card game was temporarily interrupted.

‘If we were not out in the middle of the Atlantic, I would say we had run aground,’ Miss Norton suggested. ‘You do not suppose something is wrong with the engines, do you?’

Holmes had risen from the table. ‘Let us go on deck.’ He appeared calm, but there was a distant, somewhat concerned look in his eyes.

We left the table and made our way quickly to the promenade deck on the starboard side of the ship. That is when we saw it. In the starlit night, a mighty tower of ice was visible directly behind the ship. Rising just above the boat deck, the iceberg did not appear to be particularly menacing. Yet we had clearly made contact, perhaps below the water. The three of us stood at the rail and watched the iceberg disappear from sight.

The few of us who had been on deck and had actually seen the iceberg became instant celebrities. Latecomers were eager to find out what had happened. We explained what we had seen. As I was pointing out the direction of the iceberg to an excited passenger I felt a hand tugging at my forearm.

‘There is no time for this now, Watson, we have work to do.’

Holmes, Miss Norton and I walked quickly along the deck to the forward end of the ship. As I glanced back to take another look at the gathering crowd, I found myself slipping on a solid object and falling backwards. Fortunately, Miss Norton caught my arm and I regained my balance.

Holmes, who was well ahead, stopped and looked around. He saw the white chunk of ice gliding forwards on the deck. Stopping it with his foot, he picked it up and walked back towards us.

‘Are you all right, Watson?’

‘Yes, I am not hurt. Is that what I slipped on?’

He handed it to me. ‘Indeed, here is a souvenir for you. A genuine piece of an iceberg. It must have fallen off when we made contact... Are you able to carry on?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then let us proceed. We must get down to that model.’

We returned to the interior warmth of the ship and walked down the main staircase until we reached the reception room on Saloon Deck D. The lights had been dimmed, but the room’s furnishings were still clearly visible. We could not see the model of the ship from the grand staircase. It was to the right, by a wall that surrounded the boiler casing below the first smokestack. I looked at the dining-room doors on either side of this partition, wondering whether anyone would enter unexpectedly.

Upon reaching the case, Holmes peered through the glass and examined the upper portions of the model in great detail.

‘I cannot tell anything from here. We will have to get inside.’

‘Shall I get the captain?’ I asked.

‘No,’ said Holmes, reaching inside his coat. ‘Let me try something else first.’

Holmes held a leather case in his hands. It was a case I had seen before while assisting Holmes on missions of questionable legality.

‘Your old burglary tools!’ I exclaimed. ‘I must say, you did come well prepared.’

Holmes selected one of several lock-picks from the case and poked it into the opening. ‘This one should do the trick. It is a relatively easy lock.’

Moments later, Holmes was lifting the glass lid from the case. He then reached inside and tugged at various portions of the model to determine where it might separate.

‘Do make haste, Mr Holmes,’ said Miss Norton. ‘Someone might come.’ We could hear, through the stairwell, voices and movement from the decks above. Passengers, who had been awakened by the encounter with the iceberg, were beginning to stir.

‘I am well aware of that. This should only take a...’ A long section of the boat deck came away in Holmes’s hand.

It was like opening a treasure chest. We all looked over the top of the case and peered inside.

‘My God, look!’ Miss Norton, who was not much taller than the case, was struggling to reach inside. ‘You were right, the plans! Thank God!’

‘Well, Watson, it looks like I will not be eating humble pie after all.’

‘I would not speak too soon, Commodore...or should I say, Mr Holmes?’ Baron and Baroness Von Stern were approaching us from the grand staircase. The baron was holding a gun.

‘Good evening, Baron,’ said Holmes. ‘Up a little late, are you not? I am afraid the dining room is closed.’

‘We are not looking for a midnight snack. My wife and I were following you. We had camped on deck, outside the smoking room and were about to retire for the night when the big iceberg passed...a magnificent sight, by the way. We saw you run outside, and then down along the deck.’

‘What have I always told you, Watson, persistence pays off.’ Holmes, while doing his best to appear calm, had raised his hands and was staring at the baron’s gun.

‘By the way, Miss Norton, I owe you my thanks,’ said Von Stern. ‘If you had not now mentioned Mr Holmes’s name, I never would have realized that I had defeated the great detective.’

‘Are you going to kill us?’ Miss Norton asked.

The baron appeared puzzled by the question, then glanced at his wife.

‘I am not sure. I suppose I had not really thought about that. Now, we cannot be having you go to the captain before we reach New York. Hmm, what do you say, my dear?’

‘I hear voices, Hans. Let us move into the dining room.’

‘I suppose that is a good idea. But first, Elisabeth, Miss Norton has something for us. Would you take the plans from her? And, my dear, please be careful not to walk into my line of fire.’

Miss Norton hesitated, then held out the plans. Frau Von Stern snatched them and walked back quickly behind her husband.

‘Scoundrel!’ said Miss Norton.

‘Scoundrel, you say? Need I remind you that the engineering principles that make your submarine possible were stolen from us by British spies. You did, however, seem to make some modifications that appear very interesting. We must take them back to Germany for more detailed examination.’