passengers, noting the departure of the captain, also moved towards the dining-room doors.

The dining room was a magnificent sight. Its design was similar to that of the reception room but it was larger — much larger. The leaded glass windows that lined the walls on either side made me feel that I had just entered the dining hall of a great mansion. Despite the size of the room, a sense of intimacy was created by the columns that supported the white plastered ceiling. In addition, recessed bays along the walls created a number of private dining areas. Throughout this great hall, fine oak furniture stood on tastefully designed linoleum tiles. But the true elegance and magic of this room was brought to life by cleverly arranged lighting, and the sight of passengers in formal dress at dinner.

Captain Smith sat down at the head of the table, after showing Miss Norton to the seat next to him. I walked around the table, looking at the cards that had been put at each place setting. Mrs Futrelle sat to the left of the captain, followed by her husband, then Miss Storm-Fleming, then me. Hugo Brandon, the gambler, was seated next to Miss Norton. Mr Bishop, the young ship’s officer, was already seated in the next chair down.

Holmes was seated at the far end of the table, opposite Captain Smith. As I passed, I paid my respects to the baron and baroness, who were seated to Holmes’s left.

‘Doctor Watson, allow me to introduce you to my wife, Elisabeth.’

Baroness Von Stern, in her early forties, appeared strong and healthy. Her solid grip as we shook hands demonstrated that physical exercise was part of her daily life.

‘Good evening, Herr Doctor. My husband said that you have been most kind by offering to help with our little problem.’

‘I am not a detective, but I will do what I can. Aside from this unfortunate incident, have you been having a pleasant cruise?’

‘Oh, yes. The facilities on this ship are most satisfactory. My husband and I have enjoyed the squash-racket court. Do you play?’

‘From time to time, but not well, I’m afraid.’

‘Then you must join us some time. It is simply a matter of practice and determination.’

‘Thank you, I would be delighted.’

I took my seat, and looked at the place setting between Holmes and me. The card read ‘Colonel James Moriarty.’

Within ten minutes, the remaining seats at the table were filled. Miss Storm-Fleming looked charming in her green evening dress. As she took her seat, I felt her silk glove in my hand.

‘So here we are, Doctor Watson. I hope you brought your dancing shoes for later in the evening. I hear the band will be playing.’

‘I am afraid my dancing shoes are somewhere at home in my attic, but I can improvise.’

I observed Colonel Moriarty to the extent I could without appearing to stare. I could not detect any signs that he recognized his brother’s old rival. In fact, he and Holmes, as Commodore Winter, were engaged in pleasantries about their respective naval and military backgrounds. The true test was about to come.

‘Colonel Moriarty, I want you to meet Doctor John Watson from London. We met each other as we left Southampton, and we have been engaged in several interesting conversations since.’

Moriarty appeared startled for a moment, then smiled and reached out to shake my hand.

‘Excuse me, but are you not the Doctor Watson who chronicles the adventures of Mr Sherlock Holmes?’

I confessed that I was.

‘Then we have something in common. My brother was Professor James Moriarty. He died at the hands of your friend many years ago.’

‘It did seem to be a fair fight, I hope you will not be offended but...’

‘Precisely, no offence taken. My brother pursued Mr Holmes and confronted him at Reichenbach Falls. I can hardly blame your friend for surviving the struggle. After all, my brother had one or two sins for which he had to account. If he had not died at Reichenbach, I am sure a hangman’s noose would eventually have caught up with him.’

‘I am most glad to hear that you no longer hold any ill will towards Holmes.’

‘I would like to meet him some day and tell him that face to face.’

‘I am sure he would appreciate your lack of ill will.’

Moriarty and I continued our conversation. I discovered that he had read nearly all of my stories of Holmes’s adventures. I had just begun to discuss my historical novels when Miss Storm-Fleming broke in.

‘Please forgive me, Miss Storm-Fleming, for my lack of attention. But Colonel Moriarty and I have been discussing...’

‘I am pleased to meet you, Colonel Moriarty. My name is Holly Storm-Fleming.’

‘Doctor Watson, if I have taken you from the company of this charming young lady, then I am the one who needs forgiving.’ He turned to Holmes, who was engaged in a conversation with the baron and baroness. ‘Perhaps the commodore would introduce me to his friends.’

‘I would be delighted. Colonel Moriarty. This is Baron Hans Von Stern and his wife, the Baroness.’

They exchanged greetings.

‘Baron, if I may ask, why are you and your wife taking this voyage?’

‘Books, Doctor Watson. I am a dealer in rare books. In fact, when we reach America, I plan to spend several weeks buying and selling. I have brought a trunk of fine old volumes with me, including some rare editions of the Bible.’

‘Then you are no doubt aware of the valuable book that is being transported to America on the Titanic,’ said Holmes.

‘And what book is that, Commodore?’

‘Why, the jewelled copy of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, of course. Surely you have heard about it?’

‘Oh yes, certainly, I believe I have read about it. A beautiful volume, but a little out of my price range, I’m afraid.’

‘Where in Germany are you from?’ Miss Storm-Fleming asked.

‘Munich — a beautiful city with wonderful people. Elisabeth and I entertain constantly. Have you visited our city?’

‘I regret to say that I have not. Is this your first trip to the United States?’

‘Yes, it is. We are very excited about it. When we arrive in New York, we are particularly looking forward to American theatre. I have heard that many of the productions are most lavish, filled with powerful arrangements of dance and song.’

‘There’s a great variety of theatre in New York,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming. ‘Everything from the large musical productions you have just described to quieter, more restrained plays — powerful in their own way.’

‘Perhaps we will have the time to sample several performances. You apparently have spent a good deal of time in New York theatres.’

‘Before I was married, I lived in New York and worked as an actress.’

‘Excellent! We would appreciate your guidance in selecting theatrical productions...’

We were interrupted by a team of waiters bringing the main course. I had just finished an excellent salad, consisting of cucumber, strips of salmon and a fine dressing. For my entree, I selected lamb with mint sauce, accompanied by green peas and new potatoes. One of the waiters poured the bottle of Bordeaux I had ordered for Miss Storm-Fleming and myself.

I had been so involved in our dinner conversation that I failed fully to appreciate the magic of my surroundings. Diners, after several glasses of wine, were engaged in lively, demonstrative conversations. It had all the colour and elegance of one of London’s finest restaurants, combined with the adventure of a trans-Atlantic crossing.

In a recessed bay across the room, Mr J Bruce Ismay, owner of the White Star Line, sat at the head of a small table. He seemed to be enjoying himself — and why not? The Titanic’s first voyage was cause for great pride and celebration.

At the far end of our table, Miss Norton was charming Bishop — and with great success, I might add. The shy young officer was becoming quite talkative. I looked forward to Miss Norton’s account of their conversation later in the evening.

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