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

‘Oh, I doubt it,’ I said with a smile. ‘But then again...’

‘Do you suppose we should look for him and try to help him?’ Miss Norton asked.

‘No, Miss Norton, you have your job to do and I have mine. After I put you and Miss Storm-Fleming into a lifeboat, I will try to track him down. He tricked me into missing the last fight he had with a Moriarty. This time, I plan to be there at his side.’

I expected to hear a protest from Miss Storm-Fleming, but she was silent. Instead, she took my arm and smiled at me in a way that seemed to reflect a knowledge beyond my mortal comprehension. Miss Norton took my other arm and the three of us walked over to the forward end of the boat deck.

I had been so preoccupied that I had not noticed how much the situation on board had deteriorated. By now the bow of the mighty ship was low in the water and the first signs of panic had begun to show. A group of men had gathered around a boarding lifeboat and were trying to push their way into the small craft. For a moment, it appeared that the boat, and all passengers on board, might be in some jeopardy. Could it hold up if the mob broke past the crew and tried to jump on board at once?

Suddenly, two shots rang out, sending bright flashes across the night sky. The mob immediately backed away, and gradually moved on to find better opportunities. Some of the crew and two bystanders then jumped on board the boat and forcibly removed two men who, without the support of the mob, offered little resistance.

‘Women and children only!’ shouted Chief Officer Wilde, who was in charge of loading the boat. ‘Last call. We will be lowering away in a few moments! Would all women and children please step forward!’

I looked at the small craft. It was Englehardt Collapsible C, which had been loaded into the davits of long- departed Lifeboat No. 1. The canvas sides looked frail, but I had no doubt that it would hold up on the calm sea. Inside, passengers were frightened and restless. I saw one young girl with a serious gash on her head, possibly the result of the recent altercation.

‘Last call!’ Wilde shouted again. ‘We are about to lower away! There are still a few seats available!’

But there were no women or children nearby. I did, however, see Mr J Bruce Ismay, who was doing his best to assist Wilde with his duties.

‘Lower away!’ Wilde said.

‘Wait a minute!’ I shouted. ‘I have two more for you.’

‘Very good, Doctor. Get them on quickly.’ Wilde held up his hand to the crewman who was handling the davits.

‘Doctor Watson,’ someone shouted. It was a familiar voice. I turned to see the stern face of Captain Smith. ‘Why do you not join them? We have an injury on board and your medical knowledge is needed. No doubt it will be needed much more as the night progresses.’

‘I am sorry, Captain. I cannot board ahead of the other men. Someone on board can bandage the girl’s wound.’

‘Doctor, there are already many men in those lifeboats — and many empty seats too. I am afraid we were not quite prepared to handle all this.’

‘Nevertheless, as a man of honour. I cannot...’

I felt a stinging blow to the back of my head. And, for the second time on this voyage, I lost consciousness.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

MONDAY 15 APRIL 1912

I felt a splash of icy cold water on my face, followed by a stinging sensation in my eyes and the taste of salt on my lips. And then, of course, there was that throbbing pain at the back of my head. Quickly I summoned the energy to sit up and rub the water from my eyes.

As my eyes cleared, I saw that Miss Storm-Fleming and Miss Norton were sitting on either side of me in a lifeboat. I strained to peer out into the darkness.

‘The Titanic?’ I said.

‘Still afloat, but sinking fast,’ said Miss Norton. She pointed back over her shoulder and I turned around, all the while dreading what I would see.

The Titanic was at a steep tilt, her bow well down in the water. But much to my surprise, the mighty ship’s electric lights were still blazing away and the sound of the band penetrated the bitterly cold night air. But they were no longer playing lively ragtime tunes. I recognized the hymn. I had sung it at church services many times:

Nearer, my God, to Thee,

Nearer to Thee!

E’en though it be a cross

That riseth me;

Still all my song shall be,

Nearer, my God, to Thee.

The music blended with the cries of passengers who, in vain, searched for some place of safety on board the doomed ship. Closer by, there was the sound of weeping. Women on board the lifeboat were thinking of their husbands. The fate of those on board the Titanic seemed inevitable. Yet, there was always a faint glimmer of hope... What were they all thinking during these final moments? And what of Holmes?

‘What hit me?’ I asked.

‘I am afraid I did, with the handle of my gun,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming. ‘You were being stubborn.’

‘Our apologies for the sea water, Doctor Watson, but it was all we had.’ Miss Norton was mopping the water from my face with her handkerchief.

‘Miss Storm-Fleming, I do believe that was overstepping the mark...’ She interrupted my rebuke with a stern look.

I looked at the sadness in the eyes of my fellow passengers and said no more.

I noticed that I was wearing a life jacket. So were my companions. Miss Norton said that Mr Wilde had provided them before the boat was lowered. Apparently, there had been some difficulty getting the boat in the water. The angle of the ship had been so steep that the lifeboat continually banged along the outer hull. The passengers in the boat had to push against the hull to provide clear descent into the water.

Our small Englehardt Collapsible was nearly full, but those of us inside were only a handful compared to the 2,200 that had been on the Titanic. Overall, the four Englehardts could carry a total of nearly 200 people. The ship’s sixteen standard lifeboats, larger than the Englehardts, had a total capacity of nearly 1,000. Even if all twenty lifeboats were filled — which they were not — almost half of the passengers would be left without a boat. Their fate would depend on a ship arriving in time. But, given the speed at which the Titanic was sinking, that prospect was looking bleak.

‘Any signs of a rescue ship?’ I asked.

‘No,’ Miss Storm-Fleming replied, ‘although we have been watching that light out there.’ She pointed to a white light miles off in the darkness. ‘It must be a ship, but it has not moved. Surely it has picked up our wireless messages, or seen our distress rockets. But it remains stationary.’

I suddenly remembered something. ‘Oh, the little girl who was injured. I must see to her.’

‘She is well,’ said Miss Norton. ‘We used the first aid kit. Why not rest for a while, and examine her later?’

‘Is everyone else unhurt?’ As I looked about the boat, I saw the familiar face of Bruce Ismay some distance away, illuminated by the light of a candle held by one of the passengers. He was seated behind an oar, helping to row.

‘Ismay is on board?’ I said.

‘Yes,’ said Miss Storm-Fleming. ‘He jumped into the boat just as it was being lowered. I cannot say I really blame him. There was space on board and all the other passengers had left the area. The crew called for women and children, but no one was around.’

‘But still, the owner of the line...’