The Furt The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: The Titanic Tragedy

Brandon and the baron too had been having an involved conversation. The baron spoke with firm hand gestures, while Brandon sat with his forearm on the table, speaking in calm tones.

‘Your understanding of Germany needs improving, Mr Brandon,’ said the baron. ‘The lower classes have an excellent standard of living. While I hate to disagree with a fellow countryman, Marx’s philosophy is filled with flaws and is completely undeserving of all the attention it has received.’

Brandon’s face reddened. He pointed a finger at the baron and began to reply. But upon noting that he had become the centre of attention, he sat back quietly in his chair. ‘No great matter,’ he said with a smile. ‘I hope you will excuse my playing devil’s advocate, but I really enjoy a good debate. No offence taken, I hope.’

The baron paused and eyed Brandon suspiciously. He looked back at the baroness, who had put her hand on his shoulder. ‘No, Mr Brandon. Of course not. I too enjoy a good argument — sometimes to the point of getting carried away. I hope, as well, that I have not offended you.’

‘No harm done at all, except that our dinner is getting cold. Shall we begin?’

‘I agree. Lively conversation excites the appetite.’ The baron held up his wine glass, as if proposing a toast, and turned his attention to his meal.

Holmes and I exchanged glances. We had indeed assembled an interesting group of dining companions.

Our dinner party concluded without further incident. In fact, as everyone followed Captain Smith’s lead and rose from their chairs, there was a spirited exchange of smiles and handshakes. After so much food and wine, I yawned and thought for a moment about retiring to my cabin. But this was the RMS Titanic, and the night was still young.

Chapter Nine

THE LATE EVENING OF THURSDAY 11 APRIL 1912

Holmes puffed on his pipe as his mind sifted through the day’s events. I relaxed with a brandy, feeling more confident than Holmes that the situation on board was well under control. Indeed, we had encountered a surprising collection of passengers. Yet our inquiries thus far remained precautionary. There was no reason to believe that the plans were in danger.

Holmes and I had conversed a little with our dining companions before retiring to the smoking room. Miss Norton elected to remain on the dance floor for a while longer. Before we left — while young men waited patiently for an opportunity to dance with her — she told us of her conversation with Bishop. It seems that the young officer previously served aboard a German liner, the Deutschland. He claimed that he had relied on his early language training in English schools for a working knowledge of German. Yet, when Miss Norton asked him a question in German, his reply, also in German, seemed fluent.

‘I say, Holmes, Miss Norton was quite the focus of attention out on the dance floor tonight, don’t you think?’

Holmes, after a moment’s pause, looked away from the cloud of pipe smoke above his head.

‘What was that, Watson?’

‘I asked whether you noticed Miss Norton’s popularity on the dance floor?’

‘Oh, yes indeed. In fact, I was honoured — with all those young men around — that she danced the first dance with me.’

‘After all these years, Holmes, I did not know you could dance.’

‘A detective travelling incognito must know many things, Watson.’

Holmes puffed on his pipe once more, then turned to me and murmured, ‘In fact, I noticed that you too have not lost your touch.’

‘Yes, Miss Storm- Fleming is a good partner. It was a shame that she had to return to her cabin so early. I did not notice her drinking that much wine but apparently it made her very sleepy.’

‘Just as well, Watson. There’s work to be done. Did you notice that Brandon and the baron have rather strong, opposing political views. And do you not find it surprising that a man who spends his time gambling with wealthy passengers is also a devoted reader of Karl Marx. Perhaps he sees himself as a present-day Robin Hood, stealing from the rich, and so on...although somehow I doubt that his proceeds go to the poor.’

‘I say, Moriarty seems very pleasant. Not at all what I expected.’

‘He certainly is on his best behaviour — especially after the things he said about his brother’s death. Perhaps he’s turned over a new leaf.’

‘And the Futrelles? They seem harmless enough.’

‘Yes, Watson. But do not forget, Futrelle has a keen mind, and he is very observant. His curiosity could pose a threat to our work at some stage of the game.’

‘I have read his crime stories. They are certainly imaginative, but I have always considered them to be a trifle fanciful.’

‘Agreed, but he has a good eye for detail. Did you notice...’

All eyes in the smoking room had turned to the entrance, where Miss Norton stood. She was looking excitedly from table to table. Finally, she found Holmes and me seated at the far side of the room. Lifting the hem of her dress, she hurried across this male bastion, bumping into chairs as she moved towards our table.

‘My dear Miss Norton, what can be the matter?’ I said, as I pulled out a chair and invited her to sit.

‘My room, it has been entered! Everything is scattered about. And you will not believe this, but on the wall, in large red letters, someone has written the word Rache.

Holmes and I exchanged glances, but said nothing.

‘And the plans...?’ said Holmes. ‘Are they safe?’

‘Oh, yes, I checked them immediately. They’re still behind the panelling where I hid them. But someone clearly knows that I have them.’

Holmes did not appear to be fully satisfied with Miss Norton’s assurance that all was well.

‘Are you certain that you were alone in the cabin when you checked the plans?’

‘Absolutely certain. It is a small cabin. There is no place to hide.’

‘And the door...was it ajar?’

‘No, it was closed... Mr Holmes, why are you concerned? Are you saying the break-in was a trick to get me to reveal the location of the plans? You seem to be dwelling on that ruse you played on my mother long ago. I assure you, there was no one peeking through the porthole.’

‘We must consider all possibilities, Miss Norton. In any case, there is only one way to find out.’ Holmes rose from his chair. ‘And if the plans are still there, I suggest that we immediately move them to a safer place — one of the ship’s safes, for example.’

We followed Holmes’s lead in maintaining a brisk pace to Miss Norton’s cabin on C Deck. When we arrived at her door, she took the key from her bag and placed it in the lock. She started when she turned the key and it moved freely, without making a sound.

‘I’m sure I locked it,’ she said anxiously.

The door opened when she turned the knob. Inside, the cabin was in disarray, as she had described it. Clothing had been tossed out of the wardrobe and Miss Norton’s trunk. And, as she had said, the word Rache was written on the wall in large red letters. But there were some differences from the description she had given us on our way to the cabin. The door adjoining the cabin, which had been locked throughout the voyage, was now open. And high on the wall above the porthole, the loose section of moulding had been prised away, and the door to the small safe was ajar. Holmes placed a chair quickly below the opening and stepped up for a clear view of the interior.

‘Gone!’ he said. ‘The plans have been taken!’

‘This does not make sense... The door was closed and locked...’ Holmes jumped off the chair and darted into the next room. ‘I checked it before I left. The keyhole was covered. There is no way anyone could have seen me when I checked the plans.’

As she spoke, Miss Norton and I followed Holmes into the adjoining cabin. Inside, we found the dowager, bound and gagged in her bed. The old woman seemed frightened when I removed the scarf that had been tied over her eyes. But she began to relax as I assured her that we were there to help. Holmes untied her hands and feet.