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

One of the strangest stories was of Mr Andrews, the ship’s builder, who apparently decided to see the end in the ship’s smoking room. Someone reported seeing him standing there, without a life jacket, staring at the painting of Plymouth Harbour . His old debating partner, William Thomas Stead, was there too, sitting quietly with a book.

Some of the ship’s officers, including Lightoller, Boxhall and Pitman, who had been put in charge of individual lifeboats, had survived. Others, like Mr Murdoch, were among the dead.

There had been many acts of heroism during the night – some of which, undoubtedly, will never be known. But one that must not be overlooked was that of Arthur Rostron, captain of the Carpathia , who guided his ship through a field of icebergs to come to the Titanic ’s rescue. While his ship had been too far away to arrive before the sinking, her crew acted valiantly to rescue survivors. Another ship, the Californian , had apparently been much closer, but had shut down its wireless equipment minutes before the first disaster call went out. Some of the crew had seen the rockets being fired, but did not recognize them as a disaster signal.

In all, just over 700 of the Titanic ’s 2,200 passengers and crew had survived. By far, the heaviest losses were among the steerage passengers and the crew. All thirty-six of the ship’s engineers, who kept the engines and lights going until the very end, had apparently died.

And what of Holmes? Mr Lightoller told Miss Storm-Fleming that he had seen him struggling, hand to hand, with Moriarty just before the ship went down. But he could not say what happened to him after that.

‘They say we will reach New York by Thursday,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming.

I did not answer at once but lay there, staring at the ceiling.

‘I was just thinking about Holmes...and about all those people on deck. Some just refused to believe that the ship would sink, right to the very end. Hundreds more might have been saved if they had taken the danger seriously. Did they really think that the Titanic was unsinkable?’

‘I suppose we have become arrogant, somehow believing that we had overcome the forces of nature once and for all. We have forgotten humility. I think, if anything, the Titanic is a reminder for us to face the future with more humility. But, if you want to talk about legacies, let us consider the one left by Mr Holmes.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Mr Holmes certainly believed in the power of reason, but there was far more to him than that. His character and unswerving devotion to justice were unmatched. And the clarity of his values gave him the courage to recognize the villains of the world. I say courage, because once he recognized an injustice, he felt duty bound to challenge it. And he did this with an energy and confidence that set an example to everyone else.’

‘Indeed, he did, Miss Storm-Fleming.’

‘Doctor Watson, you too have shown those qualities. In fact, they live on in your books. There is your legacy to future generations.’

There was a knock at the door and Miss Norton walked in. ‘Why do you not come up on deck with me and get some fresh air?’

‘Well, Doctor Watson?’ said Miss Storm-Fleming. ‘Are you ready for a turn on the deck?’

‘Miss Norton, Miss Storm-Fleming, fresh air is just what is required.’ I rose from the bed and smiled at my companions. ‘We must be fit. There is still much to be done.’

Chapter Thirty

SUNDAY 21 APRIL 1912

It was reassuring to feel solid earth beneath my feet. The sky was blue and the sun had just risen over Chesapeake Bay. I was walking along the bank of the Severn River, which was dotted sparsely with oak and maple trees. I paused to listen to the chorus of chirping birds and the water splashing over the rocks. There is nothing quite like the serenity of a fresh spring morning.

I was being treated to this welcome respite by American intelligence officials. An acknowledgement of my role in the delivery of the submarine plans, they had offered me free use of a guest cottage at the US Naval Academy at Annapolis. I accepted gratefully.

My two companions of the last two weeks were also enjoying the hospitality of the US Navy and staying at guest cottages near mine.

Try as I might, I could not remove the haunting memories of the Titanic ’s sinking and the loss of my dear friend from my mind. But here, alone with my thoughts, I was just beginning to comprehend fully the enormity of what had happened.

I walked on, poking at shrubs with my walking stick as I moved at a brisk pace. The air was becoming warmer and I considered stopping to remove my overcoat. The fresh air and exercise were making me hungry, and I was beginning to think about breakfast. I turned to see how far I had walked from the academy.

Behind me, I could see only the river and the vast solitude of the fields. I had apparently lost track of time and walked further than I had planned.

Then, in the distance, I saw another hiker. The man had just emerged from behind a ridge, and was walking along the river bank, following the same path I had just travelled. He was a tall, gaunt figure wearing a long grey travelling coat and close-fitting cloth cap. There was something familiar about the man — his gait, the look of his clothing — but I was too far away to obtain a good view.

As the man came closer I began to get a clearer look. I was stunned suddenly by the thought that someone might be playing a cruel joke on me. The man was the very image of my departed friend, Sherlock Holmes. He was even wearing the same type of outdoor clothing that he had worn during many of our investigations.

I decided to head back towards the naval academy. We would cross paths and I would soon get to the bottom of this mystery. As I began to move in his direction, the man suddenly stopped and raised his walking stick high into the air.

‘Greetings, Watson!’ he shouted. He then hurried forward at a faster pace, taking long strides all the way.

My head became dizzy with anticipation as I made my own way along the bank. Only concentration kept my legs moving. I saw that my hopes were not unfounded for I could see that my friend was very much alive.

When we reached each other I grabbed him by the shoulders and stared in disbelief, wondering if this could somehow be a twin. Holmes had a satisfied smile on his face. He loved his little surprises.

‘Yes, my dear Watson, it is me. And I must say, it is very good to see you, old fellow. Very good, indeed.’

‘But how...?’

‘Well, Miss Norton and Miss Storm-Fleming remarked on that very same question last night. It was their conclusion that I am indestructible. I found that most flattering, although...’

‘Where have you been and why did you delay your return?’ There was a note of anger and disappointment in my voice. ‘It appears that everyone — except your best and oldest friend — has been aware that you are still alive.’

‘My apologies, but I am not quite as thoughtless as I may seem. It is true that Miss Storm-Fleming has known for some time, but I only told Miss Norton last night. I knew that you have a habit of retiring early, so I decided to wait until this morning.’

‘But it has been a week, Holmes. Where have you been?’

‘Well, I am afraid that our friends in American intelligence, while very generous with their hospitality, have been rather secretive. They thought it was best for my mission that even my closest friends thought I was dead. It was not until yesterday that Miss Storm-Fleming and I were able to convince them otherwise.’