The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (6 page)

I had read the notice about professional gamblers, which had been circulated with the passenger list. Card-sharps were common on trans-Atlantic liners. Passengers with a lot of money and little to do could easily be lured into a game. The steamship companies discouraged these high-stake games, but did not prohibit them. They did not want to get involved in policing gambling on their ships.

Holmes and I stood beside one of the tables for a few moments, watching the four men play their hands. The centre of the table was filled with chips, indicating that the hand was well under way. Holmes tapped me on the shoulder and motioned to a tall man with a thin moustache. As we walked away from the table, my friend said quietly, ‘That man is cheating.’

I looked back in astonishment. ‘What! How do you know? I saw nothing unusual.’

‘He clearly has more cards in his sleeve than he does in his hands.’ Indeed, the man, who later that evening was identified to me as Hugo Brandon, appeared to be winning handsomely.

‘Holmes, we must report this at once!’

‘No, Watson. There is more at stake on this voyage than the gambling losses of a few men. We dare not draw attention to ourselves. However, I will alert Captain Smith to the situation when we meet him tomorrow.’

‘We’ll be meeting the captain?’

‘Yes, more of a courtesy than anything else. He’s been more than helpful in assisting Miss Norton. And as captain, he is responsible for the safety of this ship. He would like to be kept informed on what is happening and who is involved. Mycroft has assured me that the captain is a man of the highest character and can be trusted.’

We walked to the fireplace, where a group of men, some seated and some standing, were involved in a conversation. The fire was crackling,
causing the brandy glasses resting on the centre of the table to sparkle. From this closer vantage point, I was able to read the inscription on the painting,
Plymouth Harbour.

A young man with a boyish face and an old man with a fluffy white beard were the centre of attention. They were engaged in a lively debate, and the contrast in their styles was striking. The younger man was somewhat formal — forceful in making his point, but careful not to offend. The bearded man was stronger, and much more colourful in his language. By questioning the passenger next to me, I learned that the young man was Thomas Andrews, managing director of Harland & Wolff, the giant ship-building company. Andrews was one of the main designers of the
Titanic
. He was debating with a very formidable opponent — William Thomas Stead, a journalist and editor, who was travelling to America to address a peace conference at the request of President William Howard Taft.

I was familiar with Stead’s illustrious career. For many years, he had been a crusader for various causes. Perhaps my memory was jogged by our ocean voyage, but I particularly remembered a story he had written about a fictional voyage to the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893. It took place during a trans-Atlantic crossing on the White Star liner
Majestic.
In it, a clairvoyant passenger had visions of survivors from the wreck of another vessel, which had foundered after striking an iceberg. It concluded with the
Majestic
rescuing the survivors. Stead had a reputation for investigating psychic phenomena and consulting mediums.

‘Twenty-five years ago — twenty-five years ago, Mr Andrews — I was warning the public about the shortage of lifeboats on these liners,’ Stead said, waving his arms for emphasis. ‘If anything, the problem has become worse, not better. The ships have grown larger and larger, but the number of lifeboats has remained the same. What do you have to say to that?’

Andrews leaned forward and chose his words with deliberation. ‘I would say, Mr Stead, that you have overlooked the enormous progress that has been made in the engineering of large ships, and the important safety features that have been incorporated into the newer vessels, like the
Titanic.’

‘Are you saying it is unsinkable, then? I have read about all the boasting that has been going on.’

‘No, of course not. No ship is unsinkable. But I’d go so far as to say that this ship is as close to being unsinkable as any vessel can be.’ Andrews looked at the passengers who were gathered around, wondering perhaps whether they were being shaken by this discussion. Their expressions ranged from interest to outright amusement.

Andrews continued. ‘Let me explain. This ship has sixteen watertight compartments down below — all with doors that can be closed from the bridge. It can remain afloat with any two of the compartments flooded, or any three of the first five flooded. Even in the unlikely event we had a head-on collision and flooded the first four compartments, we still would not sink.’

‘But you did not answer my question,’ said Stead, his voice filled with challenge and impatience. ‘What if one of these big liners does go down, and there are not enough lifeboats for everyone on board. What do you do then?’

‘Well, to begin with, all our liners have a sufficient number of lifeboats to meet Board of Trade...’

‘Board of Trade! Those regulations are archaic. Besides, the Board of Trade is in the pocket of the ship owners.’

‘And even if a serious accident did happen, a modern ship could remain afloat for many hours — perhaps even days — before it went down. In these busy shipping lanes, that is plenty of time to signal another vessel and ferry the passengers over in lifeboats.’

This seemed to reassure the passengers who were listening to the debate, but not Stead.

‘Competition,’ Stead said. ‘That is all it is, competition between the lines. You do not want to take up room on deck with lifeboats, when you can fill it with walkways and amusements for passengers. All you people care about is packing these things with paying customers.’

Andrews rose from his chair, showing anger for the first time. Still, he retained his composure as he spoke.

‘Mr Stead, let me assure you that safety is — and always has been — the first concern of Harland & Wolff. If I were not fully convinced of that, I would not be working for them. Now you may think what you like, but I must ask you not to spread unnecessary fears among the passengers. Wait until you are ashore, then you can write whatever you like in the newspapers. But please do not spend this entire voyage disturbing our guests with your stories.’

Stead took a deep breath and turned away. Andrews, realizing that he would not be getting a reply, wished the others good night and departed.

Stead chuckled and looked to the men who remained gathered around the fire. Some appeared as though they were about to make a graceful exit. ‘You know, I’ve always enjoyed a good argument,’ Stead said. ‘But I keep forgetting that some people do not. I hope he did not take it personally. Well, I will make sure I buy him a friendly drink before we reach New York...unless, of course, the ship sinks first.’

Everyone laughed and was put back at ease. Stead went on to tell a most fascinating fable about an Egyptian mummy, which carried a curse that brought sickness, death and destruction to anyone who possessed it. The Egyptian, Stead postulated, must have suffered greatly before his death, because his image on the sarcophagus carried a look of fear and anguish. The curse continued to this day, despite efforts over the years to exorcize the evil spirit lingering in the Egyptian’s remains.

There was a short silence after Stead finished his story. It was broken by lighthearted comments. Some suggested relatives or business competitors to whom they would like to send the mummy.

Holmes was standing quietly, staring into the fire. I nudged him with my elbow and said, ‘A remarkable story, do you not agree?’

‘Yes, Watson, very enjoyable... Well, my old friend, may I buy you a brandy? We could sit back and discuss old times.’

‘Holmes, you’ve never shown an interest in reminiscing before.’

‘Then, perhaps, it is time that I did. What do you say?’

Holmes was in a rare mood. I could not recall the last time I had seen him so sombre. He was not the type to take ghost stories seriously.

‘I would be delighted. Lead the way, Commodore.’

We sat there for some time and had a most enjoyable conversation — one that brought back many happy memories.

T
HE
M
ORNING OF
T
HURSDAY
11 A
PRIL
1912

C
aptain Edward John Smith was affectionately referred to as ‘E J’ by regulars on White Star’s trans-Atlantic runs. He was a big man with a grey beard and a firm, autocratic disposition. While strict with his crew, he was considered fair and was well liked. In addition to being an experienced seaman, he was a good host. His hospitality and congenial, soft-spoken manner had drawn a loyal following of regular passengers over the years.

‘The uniform suits you, Mr Holmes,’ said the captain, as the two shook hands. ‘Were you actually in the Navy at one time?’

‘No. Doctor Watson, here, has all the military experience.’

‘Yes, of course, Doctor Watson. I am very pleased to meet you.’

‘I believe you have already met Miss Norton.’

We had called on Smith, by appointment, in the private sitting room adjoining his cabin. It was comfortable, spacious and a good location to discuss our mission without fear of being overheard.

‘Mr Holmes, your brother Mycroft assured me that this mission the three of you have undertaken will in no way endanger the passengers on
this ship, or disrupt the crossing. Do I have your word on that as well?’

‘I can provide no absolute guarantee, but thus far the journey has been a peaceful one. I must ask you, Captain, have you noticed anyone among the passengers and crew who might be of concern to us?’

Captain Smith stood quietly as he lit a cigar he had pulled from a case on the table. A blue cloud of smoke encircled his head as he puffed away. He took a deep breath and savoured the aroma before answering Holmes’s question.

‘I have met a fair number of passengers, but not a fraction of the more than 1,200 on board. As for crew, there are a lot of new faces — people I have not sailed with before. That happens when you get a new ship.’

‘How many people are on board in all?’ I asked.

‘Well, we should pick up another 100 or so in Queenstown. That would bring the total up to around 2,200.’

Holmes crossed his arms and casually stroked his beard. ‘Captain, I have long taken pride in my devotion to facts. But a man in your position, with your long experience, develops strong instincts over the years. Has anything happened thus far that makes you feel uncomfortable about any of the passengers or crew?’

‘Well...there is one man who may require some discipline — one of my lower-ranking officers, Fred Bishop. I caught him in my cabin the other day. He claimed he was looking for me. But when I asked him why, he brought up a small navigational question that could well have waited until later.’

‘Can you tell me anything else about him? Are you familiar with his service record? Is there anything unusual about his mannerisms, habits...?’

‘There is one thing, Mr Holmes. I do not like to bring it up, with all this nonsense about German espionage rings circulating the country. But Bishop does have a trace of a German accent. When I mentioned it to him, he said he had spent a number of years living in Germany
and working with German crews. In fact, that had been in his service record and I had forgotten about it. His last assignment was on board a German liner. But I am sure you will agree, Mr Holmes, that is hardly a reason to brand someone as a spy.’

‘I agree, but let us keep an eye on him in any case.’

Miss Norton, noticing the memorabilia on the wall shelves, began to make her way across the room.

‘Young lady,’ the captain said firmly, ‘I must ask you to stand quietly while I am smoking. Your movement is disturbing my smoke!’

After a momentary pause, Miss Norton apologized and returned to her previous position. The captain took several quick puffs from his cigar and the cloud of blue smoke once again encircled his head.

‘There is one other point I’d like to make,’ said Smith. ‘The owner of the line, Mr J Bruce Ismay, is on board this ship. He is staying in a suite of cabins on B Deck. So far, there has been no need to alert him to your activities. But if the situation ever warrants it, I may have to inform him — at least about the particulars that affect this ship. Do I make myself understood?’

Indeed you do, Captain,’ Miss Norton replied. ‘But in that event, I must ask you to inform him that this is a matter of national importance, requiring the strictest secrecy.’

‘Most certainly,’ said Smith. ‘Is there anything else we need to discuss?’

I turned to glance out of the porthole. The skies were clear and the sun danced on the tall waves below. We would be reaching Queenstown later in the morning, and then leaving for open sea.

‘Captain, we will need to use your wireless equipment as a priority.’ Holmes’s directness did not seem to offend the captain. ‘Also, would you ensure that your wireless operators fully understand the urgent nature of any messages we send?’