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

of which had been filled to capacity. The crew was having a difficult time getting people to board the boats. So rather than waiting for greater cooperation from the passengers, they launched them. Officers reasoned that once the boats were safely in the water, they could come back and rescue swimming survivors.

Miss Storm-Fleming and I had a decision to make. With precious moments remaining, was there anything we could do to rally the passengers? Could we save lives by going from group to group, urging people to board the lifeboats? And what if some action on our part had just the opposite effect? A panic might slow the loading of the lifeboats and result in a greater loss of life. And who were we to question the wisdom of an experienced crew? We decided to proceed with our mission and, if possible, offer our assistance to the captain.

We began our search for Tommy and the Futrelles on the starboard side of the ship. There was no sign of them. We were impressed, however, by the sight of the ship’s band standing outside the gymnasium playing lively tunes. I could not help but admire these fine men, whose music did so much to raise the spirits of those on board.

On the port side we found Mr Lightoller preparing to lower a boat. The second officer, while guiding reluctant women and children into the craft, was simultaneously carrying on a conversation with a steward.

‘I am sorry, Hart, I am needed here and I have no one spare. You will have to manage by yourself.’

‘It is the language more than anything, sir,’ said Hart. ‘So many of them cannot understand English. I just cannot persuade them to move. Finns, Swedes, they do not understand.’

‘Perhaps I can help,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming. ‘Linguistics was always one of my stronger subjects.’

Lightoller interrupted his work. ‘Miss Storm-Fleming,’ he said with some surprise. And Doctor Watson. Would you accompany Mr Hart down to steerage?’

‘Yes, of course, just show me where to go,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming.

‘And me too,’ I added.

‘Very good. But make haste,’ said Lightoller. ‘There are still plenty of boats, but they are going fast.’

Hart guided us to the foot of the main steerage staircase, aft on E Deck. The area, surrounded by plain white walls and low ceilings, was mobbed with families. Some appeared frightened, while others just looked confused. I felt especially sorry for a young mother, who was trying to keep her children together amid the moving crowd.

Hart took charge of the situation. ‘I’m going to find the interpreter and see how he is doing. By now, he should have a group assembled to go on deck. Please gather together some families, as many as you can, and follow the same route back to the boat deck. Do you think you can do that?’

‘Indeed,’ I replied.

‘Good luck then, and God bless you.’

Hart disappeared into the crowd.

The steward had not exaggerated the difficulty of the task. It required conveying the urgency of the situation, without creating panic. Miss Storm-Fleming did a magnificent job carrying out her assignment, using several different languages. I helped with the English-speaking families. Soon, we had a group of about thirty people ready to go.

I led the group up the stairs and into the third-class lounge on C Deck. Miss Storm-Fleming took up the rear, ensuring that there were no stragglers. We continued across the open well deck, past the library and into first class. Before long we were making our way up the grand stairway to the boat deck.

It was a joy to see the first of these passengers heading towards the lifeboats. But I shuddered to think of the steerage passengers still below who would, quite probably, lose their lives in the next few hours. And what of the crew down below who were valiantly operating the pumps and keeping the electric power flowing?

I looked at my watch. It was 1.25. We were late for our rendezvous with Holmes and Miss Norton, so we moved quickly, running forwards along the starboard deck.

En route, we saw Futrelle. He was walking aft and appeared to be lost in thought.

‘Futrelle, I am so glad that we found you,’ I said. ‘Where is your wife?’

‘I put May in a boat not five minutes ago. She is safe now.’

‘Futrelle, I...’

‘Doctor, I have spoken to Holmes and Miss Norton. They told me everything.’

‘Please, join us, Mr Futrelle. We are on our way to meet them now.’

‘No, no thank you. I prefer to be alone with my own thoughts.’

‘Futrelle...’ I searched for the right words.

‘But I must thank you, Doctor. My thanks to both you and Mr Holmes. It was truly a case to remember.’

He shook both our hands. Futrelle began to turn, but then paused. ‘I do believe I have discovered a plan by which Professor Van Dusen could escape safely from this situation. I fear, however, that it is not for me.’

He smiled, waved slowly, and began to walk away.

Miss Storm-Fleming and I moved quickly to the forward funnel, where we hoped to meet Holmes and Miss Norton. Instead, we found only Miss Norton. She was pacing up and down nervously.

‘Where have you two been? I thought of going to look for you, but...’

‘Where is Holmes?’ I asked.

‘He has gone to meet Moriarty.’

‘What! But why?’

‘While we were returning to meet you, a page ran up and delivered a note. It was from the colonel. He said he knew the commodore’s true identity, and demanded that Mr Holmes meet him immediately.’

‘Meet him where?’ I asked.

‘Mr Holmes did not show me the note.’ She reached into her pocket. ‘But he did write a note of his own and asked me to give it to you.’

I hesitated before unfolding the paper, which I recognized as a sheet from Holmes’s notebook.

My dear Watson,

I write these few lines as I prepare to meet Colonel Moriarty, who has sent me an invitation that I simply cannot resist. The colonel has written a note stating that if I do not meet him immediately, ‘innocent lives will suffer’. It is hard to imagine more suffering than will take place on board this ship tonight, but nevertheless, my curiosity compels me to see what this vengeful creature has in mind.

Reading between the lines, I have deduced from his note that the colonel is a freelance agent who meant to profit from the theft of the submarine plans. I have no doubt that it was he who hired Bishop and Strickley to steal the plans, and then murdered them to prevent them from giving him away. He has, no doubt, friends in high places, since he knew that both I and the plans would be on board this ship. I would place his intellect at a level equal to that of the late Professor Moriarty. But I am afraid that he was not being honest earlier when he said that he had forgiven me for the death of his brother. That appears to be foremost on his mind at this fateful hour.

In a way, I must thank the colonel for providing an opportunity to face death in a way that is most satisfactory to me. As you know, I abhor inactivity, and this gives me the chance to use these final moments to pay my respects to those values I have held for so long. My only regret is that it prevents me from saying my proper goodbyes to you, old friend. I would have been lost on this mission without my Boswell. Please make sure that Miss Norton and Miss Storm-Fleming board a lifeboat, and save yourself if you can. I regard you as the best and wisest man it has ever been my privilege to know.

Very sincerely yours,

Sherlock Holmes.

I passed the note to Miss Storm-Fleming and Miss Norton, who each read the letter in silence.

‘We did find Tommy and his family,’ said Miss Norton eventually. ‘We told them about the ship and, with the help of Mr Lightoller, got Tommy and his mother on board one of the lifeboats.’

‘That is indeed good news,’ I said, finding that I had to clear my throat to speak. ‘Thank you, Miss Norton. I just hope that Tommy does not lose his father tonight.’

‘There’s more. Before we went to the lifeboat, Mr Holmes took Tommy aside and spoke to him. I do not know what they said, but after a while, Tommy was grinning ear to ear. Then Mr Holmes handed something to Tommy, patted him on the back and took him back to his parents. He would not tell me what he said to Tommy. He just said he and the boy were having a little professional discussion.’

‘You do not suppose Mr Holmes told him his true identity, do you?’ said Miss Storm-Fleming, ever mindful of the absolute need for security.