Call Me Ismay (6 page)

The vampire kit seemed to be its evil cousin- or was it? Langston took note of the fact these were all tools of protection from evil; for that reason alone he decided not to destroy it. He removed his horn rimmed glasses and gazed out his street-level window, watching the rain starting to fall, creating an almost halo-like effect around the gas street lamps of Brathway Road. He suspected that a slight frost could occur in the morning due to a recent cooling trend in the weather. His thoughts returned to his problems. He'd resigned himself to not acting on his dark knowledge until after the holiday, sadly thinking of his young nieces and nephews- and their disfigured mother, Nancy- wanting them to enjoy the delights of Father Christmas just once more, before the whole of Britain was quite possibly going to be plunged into total anarchy. He had debated whether to share his newfound knowledge with young Stanley Johns at the
Chronicle
, but he was deeply concerned that all such sensitive information should remain contained. Stanley, he felt, didn't deserve to be drawn in any closer to this ordeal merely for being helpful and trustworthy. He'd realized that the only true way of getting the MP and his secretary to eventually crack would be to officially make their acquaintance, and not skulk about the fringes of the political world hoping they would somehow reveal themselves, involuntarily or not. Langston's gaze returned to the scene outside his window. He wondered if the coming frost could provide a diffuse cover if he ever decided to surreptitiously peek into their windows, seeking out the devil in the eyes of Edward Lyons and Bartholomew Gidley.

CHAPTER FOUR

June 4th, 1912

The world's largest ship had disappeared into the depths of the North Atlantic less than two months prior to this rainy day in London. In the weeks that followed the disaster, England's capital city had been hit by some of its most violent thunderstorms on record, leaving the tens of thousands of those grieving wondering if even nature itself had lost its composure over the scope of the tragedy.

For more than a month, the Royal Scottish Drill Hall in Buckinghamgate, Westminster, had been the scene of one of the most closely-watched and emotional tribunals in British history. Lord Mersey, the Grand Old Man of the English legal profession, had been pressed into service, this time heading the official Board of Trade inquiry into the sinking of the
Titanic
. He had been criticized somewhat for his handling of the investigation, at times appearing more inclined towards protecting the interest of major shipping concerns, rather than getting to the truth of why a ship that had been hailed as unsinkable now lay somewhere on the unreachable bottom of the Atlantic- taking enough people to populate a small town with it. Several surviving crew members had provided helpful answers to thousands of questions, but when the remains of the ill-fated liner were located decades later, much of their testimony would be called into question when it was discovered conclusively that the ship had broken in two; across the board,
Titanic's
crew members had insisted the ship had gone down intact. There also came a great amount of conflicting testimony from the ship's lookouts, Frederick Fleet and Reginald Lee, regarding the presence of a haze on the ocean the night of the sinking; Fleet came across as especially gruff and defensive, while Lee seemed somewhat more forthcoming about what he thought he had seen. Meanwhile, only three passengers would be called to testify on what they had observed on a non-technical basis that fateful night- and they were all from First Class. None of the passengers who had publicly stated their eyewitness accounts of the ship splitting in half would see their words entered into the official record of the disaster.

Lord Mersey, along with five other assessors, had been engaging their witnesses with a line of questioning that seemed to be designed with special emphasis on what nautical safety procedures should be in place going forward, rather than trying to repair what had happened in the past. The Scottish Drill Hall had been chosen as the site for the
Titanic
inquiry mostly because of its size. The magnitude of the investigation required enough room to house more than a hundred members of the bar representing the various interests involved, along with about a hundred members of the press. Another factor in choosing the Hall as the inquiry's venue was the daily attendance of at least a hundred spectators, most of them women. Lord Mersey, who at the age of 71 was experiencing a loss in hearing, complained about the poor acoustics of the spacious hall, and he wasn't alone. Indeed, vast portions of early key testimony were inaudible to nearly everyone in attendance. Eventually the proceedings were moved to another part of the building, where dark maroon curtains lined the walls, adding to the solemnity of the occasion.

A witness being called to the stand would have seen Lord Mersey and his fellow assessors seated to his or her left. Immediately before the witness would have been the long tables where the attorneys and press reporters were seated. In the galleries above were the spectators, and just to the right of the platform was a painful reminder of why all had gathered there: a giant chart of the North Atlantic, and a 20-foot model of the
Titanic
, so large that it took up half of one side of the Drill Hall. Even in miniature, the sheer size of the
Titanic
would startle those who gazed upon it.

The witness standing before hundreds on this day was J. Bruce Ismay. As Chairman and Managing Director of the White Star Line, a part of him hoped fervently that the British Board of Trade would be hesitant to find him or his company negligent, but his recent experience in America had shattered him. The press there had completely savaged him as the villain of the sinking- a coward, an inhuman monster who had stepped into a lifeboat while thousands of others remained trapped on a sinking ship...
his
sinking ship. He hadn't seemed to do much to help his cause by offering testimony in New York and Washington, D.C. that seemed infuriatingly vague:

“I have no knowledge of that myself.”

“I could not answer that.”

“I was simply a passenger on board the ship.”

At the start of his testimony at the United States Inquiry just days after the disaster, Ismay had offered his full cooperation, insisting he had nothing to hide: cynics pointed out that of course he didn't- it was all at the bottom of the ocean. As the highest-ranking official of the White Star Line to survive the disaster, Ismay was already in a corner; he had lived while women and children perished, and the patsy had been cast. The previous inquiry, led by six ambitious American Senators, had left him exhausted and shattered, and disgusted by a press that seemed to accuse those innocent of any crimes as being guilty with a callous impunity. He was resolved not to lose his temper, as he had allowed himself to do at one point in America, but he recognized with a dose of fatalism that some of the proceedings were likely to be brutal. And as distasteful as the notion was to him, he felt he must now clear his own name in light of horrid allegations made by the American press. There had been printed reports alleging some ghastly conduct on his part on board the
Carpathia,
the steamship that had come to the rescue of those who had survived the disaster. Now, as he found himself once again the subject of unwanted attention, Ismay stood tightened and ill at ease. He could not bring himself to even look at the model of the ship that had been his very reason for living, a towering accomplishment that had at one time made his heart soar. Instead, with its bow pointed towards him, Ismay felt as though he was on the receiving end of a giant spear.

As a once confident and proud man who had until very recently operated at the highest levels of the rarified atmosphere of international shipping,
this
Ismay was a pale, curious sight at the British Inquiry. His dark grey suit and black tie seemed only to emphasize his thin frame, and he appeared only slightly improved from his red-eyed and tense countenance in the United States less than two months before. As the Attorney General for England and Wales, Sir Rufus Isaacs, prepared to begin the line of questioning, Ismay felt his stomach lurch as he realized that the hundreds of onlookers would now be focused entirely upon him alone, most of them cupping their hands to their ears in an attempt to make out his words in the horrible, hollow acoustics of the Drill Hall. Making matters worse, he realized that while on the stand he would not be able to distract himself with blank sheets for scribbling, as he had done so in America, trying to calm himself occasionally as the American Senators took hours of his testimony.

The Attorney General first addressed the Commissioner, Lord Mersey. “My Lord, before this Inquiry resumes, I desire on behalf of His Majesty's to once again express our deepest sympathy with all of those who have to mourn the loss of relatives or friends amongst the passengers, the officers or the crew of this ill-fated vessel.” There was a low rumble as the reporters immediately began transcribing, and several spectators responded with emotional murmurs. “My Lord, this terrible disaster in mid-ocean, because in mere magnitude it exceeds any calamity in the history of the mercantile marine, has in a profound and marked degree touched the heart of the nation. Whilst not desiring in any way to anticipate the result of this Inquiry, I cannot refrain from paying a reverent tribute of warm admiration to those whose manful devotion to duty and heroic sacrifices for the safety of others have maintained the best traditions of the sea.” Lord Mersey said nothing in response, only silently lowering his head in apparent agreement. “My Lord, before proceeding further, I believe my learned friend, Sir Robert Finlay, would like to add something to what I've just stated.”

Sir Robert, a British lawyer, doctor and politician representing the White Star Line, leaned forward. “My Lord, I desire to associate myself on behalf of my clients, the owners of the
Titanic
, with the expressions which the Attorney-General has used on behalf of the Government. There are no words that can express the sympathy which everyone must feel for those who have suffered from this deplorable calamity. I shall add no more, but again, the sympathy which we feel on this occasion with those who have suffered is really beyond any expression in words.”

Finlay's soliloquy echoed for a moment in the Drill Hall as the reporters' mad scribbling and the clearing of throats of many in the crowd continued. Attorney General Isaacs allowed a respectful beat to pass, before turning once more to Lord Mersey. “My Lord, with reference to the Inquiry which your Lordship is now about to recommence, may I say it is the earnest desire of the administration that a searching and thorough inquiry should be made with the object of ascertaining as fully and as precisely as possible the circumstances surrounding the casualty. I desire to add- in the public interest- every possible source of information and all available evidence will be placed before your Lordship.” Sir Rufus promptly turned his attention to the witness.

“Mr. Ismay, are you a member of the firm of Ismay, Imrie and Company?”

Bruce Ismay drew a short breath before replying. “Yes.”

“And that company was the owner of the
Titanic
?”

“Yes.” Ismay cleared his throat quietly, preparing himself for what he knew would be yet another intense line of public questioning.

“You are also, I think, Managing director of the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company, Limited?”

“Yes.”

“And the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company owns all of what we call the 'White Star Line' steamers?”

“Yes, the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company is the legal name of the company.”