The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (27 page)

‘If I am wrong, I will be duly embarrassed. But at the moment it is the best hypothesis we have.’

‘We will need a key, Holmes, and the captain is asleep.’

‘We will go down and take a look first. If it appears the thing has been tampered with, we may have to wake him up.’

‘I would hate to be the one to do it,’ I said. ‘Hell hath no fury like...’

At that moment, we felt a jarring motion and the toys began to move across the table. So did our brandy glasses. At the same time, there was a low, continuous noise, which could best be described as something between a whine and a roar. It went on for a nerve-wracking period of time. In fact, it was less than a minute.

‘What the devil was that!’ I shouted. Other passengers were looking excitedly about the room. Even the marathon card game was temporarily interrupted.

‘If we were not out in the middle of the Atlantic, I would say we had run aground,’ Miss Norton suggested. ‘You do not suppose something is wrong with the engines, do you?’

Holmes had risen from the table. ‘Let us go on deck.’ He appeared calm, but there was a distant, somewhat concerned look in his eyes.

We left the table and made our way quickly to the promenade deck on the starboard side of the ship. That is when we saw it. In the starlit night, a mighty tower of ice was visible directly behind the ship. Rising just above the boat deck, the iceberg did not appear to be particularly menacing. Yet we had clearly made contact, perhaps below the water. The three of us stood at the rail and watched the iceberg disappear from sight.

The few of us who had been on deck and had actually seen the iceberg became instant celebrities. Latecomers were eager to find out
what had happened. We explained what we had seen. As I was pointing out the direction of the iceberg to an excited passenger I felt a hand tugging at my forearm.

‘There is no time for this now, Watson, we have work to do.’

Holmes, Miss Norton and I walked quickly along the deck to the forward end of the ship. As I glanced back to take another look at the gathering crowd, I found myself slipping on a solid object and falling backwards. Fortunately, Miss Norton caught my arm and I regained my balance.

Holmes, who was well ahead, stopped and looked around. He saw the white chunk of ice gliding forwards on the deck. Stopping it with his foot, he picked it up and walked back towards us.

‘Are you all right, Watson?’

‘Yes, I am not hurt. Is that what I slipped on?’

He handed it to me. ‘Indeed, here is a souvenir for you. A genuine piece of an iceberg. It must have fallen off when we made contact... Are you able to carry on?’

‘Of course.’

‘Then let us proceed. We must get down to that model.’

We returned to the interior warmth of the ship and walked down the main staircase until we reached the reception room on Saloon Deck D. The lights had been dimmed, but the room’s furnishings were still clearly visible. We could not see the model of the ship from the grand staircase. It was to the right, by a wall that surrounded the boiler casing below the first smokestack. I looked at the dining-room doors on either side of this partition, wondering whether anyone would enter unexpectedly.

Upon reaching the case, Holmes peered through the glass and examined the upper portions of the model in great detail.

‘I cannot tell anything from here. We will have to get inside.’

‘Shall I get the captain?’ I asked.

‘No,’ said Holmes, reaching inside his coat. ‘Let me try something else first.’

Holmes held a leather case in his hands. It was a case I had seen before while assisting Holmes on missions of questionable legality.

‘Your old burglary tools!’ I exclaimed. ‘I must say, you did come well prepared.’

Holmes selected one of several lock-picks from the case and poked it into the opening. ‘This one should do the trick. It is a relatively easy lock.’

Moments later, Holmes was lifting the glass lid from the case. He then reached inside and tugged at various portions of the model to determine where it might separate.

‘Do make haste, Mr Holmes,’ said Miss Norton. ‘Someone might come.’ We could hear, through the stairwell, voices and movement from the decks above. Passengers, who had been awakened by the encounter with the iceberg, were beginning to stir.

‘I am well aware of that. This should only take a...’ A long section of the boat deck came away in Holmes’s hand.

It was like opening a treasure chest. We all looked over the top of the case and peered inside.

‘My God, look!’ Miss Norton, who was not much taller than the case, was struggling to reach inside. ‘You were right, the plans! Thank God!’

‘Well, Watson, it looks like I will not be eating humble pie after all.’

‘I would not speak too soon, Commodore...or should I say, Mr Holmes?’ Baron and Baroness Von Stern were approaching us from the grand staircase. The baron was holding a gun.

‘Good evening, Baron,’ said Holmes. ‘Up a little late, are you not? I am afraid the dining room is closed.’

‘We are not looking for a midnight snack. My wife and I were following you. We had camped on deck, outside the smoking room and were about to retire for the night when the big iceberg passed...a
magnificent sight, by the way. We saw you run outside, and then down along the deck.’

‘What have I always told you, Watson, persistence pays off.’ Holmes, while doing his best to appear calm, had raised his hands and was staring at the baron’s gun.

‘By the way, Miss Norton, I owe you my thanks,’ said Von Stern. ‘If you had not now mentioned Mr Holmes’s name, I never would have realized that I had defeated the great detective.’

‘Are you going to kill us?’ Miss Norton asked.

The baron appeared puzzled by the question, then glanced at his wife.

‘I am not sure. I suppose I had not really thought about that. Now, we cannot be having you go to the captain before we reach New York. Hmm, what do you say, my dear?’

‘I hear voices, Hans. Let us move into the dining room.’

‘I suppose that is a good idea. But first, Elisabeth, Miss Norton has something for us. Would you take the plans from her? And, my dear, please be careful not to walk into my line of fire.’

Miss Norton hesitated, then held out the plans. Frau Von Stern snatched them and walked back quickly behind her husband.

‘Scoundrel!’ said Miss Norton.

‘Scoundrel, you say? Need I remind you that the engineering principles that make your submarine possible were stolen from us by British spies. You did, however, seem to make some modifications that appear very interesting. We must take them back to Germany for more detailed examination.’

‘Hans!’

‘Yes, my dear, I know. Gentlemen, Miss Norton, would you please step inside the dining room. We will decide in there what to do with you.’

The baron waved his gun and I decided that we had no choice but to comply. As I opened the door, I looked at Holmes. I could see
that his keen mind was looking for some method of overcoming our adversaries. But the baron was a trained agent. I did not think it likely that he would make a mistake.

The interior of the restaurant, like the lounge, was dimly lit. We stepped inside and moved back as the Von Sterns entered the room. The baroness closed the door behind her.

Von Stern looked around the room and pointed to a chair that was standing along the wall.

‘My dear, would you remove the small cushion from that chair and bring it to me? I think it is best that we deal with this problem in a prompt manner. But I do not want to make too much noise.’

I looked around and saw that a champagne bucket was resting on a nearby trolley. I began to reach for it, planning to make a desperate move to knock the gun from the baron’s hand. Much to my surprise, Holmes signalled me to stop.

‘What goes on here?’ said the baron. ‘Doctor Watson, I must insist that you keep your hands up. There is no point to your foolish bravado. I would have shot you before you had even reached that bucket.’

‘No, no, Baron,’ said a woman’s voice. ‘I am quite sure I would have shot you first. But let us not argue over trifles. Please drop your gun.’

Miss Storm-Fleming emerged from behind a post, to the baron’s right. She was holding a silver revolver.

‘Miss Storm-Fleming, you realize, of course, that I am pointing my gun at your friends. Surely you do not want to see them die.’

‘You won’t shoot, Von Stern. The moment your gun fires I will kill both you and your wife. And in case you did not know, I too am a trained marksman.’

The baroness, who had the cushion in her hand, suddenly threw it across the room in Miss Storm-Fleming’s direction. As it went sailing by, the baron began to turn. Miss Storm-Fleming’s eyes remained fixed
on the baron. She fired her gun and the baron’s body was jolted back by the impact. He reached for his chest, looked back to his wife and fell to the floor.

‘Miss Storm-Fleming!’ I exclaimed. ‘I am very glad you arrived, although I am uncertain as to what is happening.’

‘Did I not tell you to trust me, Doctor Watson?’

Holmes smiled at Miss Storm-Fleming and delivered a cordial salute. He walked over to the baron’s body, pushed it with his foot, bending over to retrieve the gun.

Miss Norton lowered her hands. ‘This is astounding,’ she said, mopping her brow on her sleeve.

The baroness stood in shocked silence. Suddenly, she broke down in tears and ran to the body of her husband.

‘Hans, Hans, please, you cannot die!’

The baroness was on her knees, pulling at her husband’s shoulder, trying to turn the body face upwards. She stopped abruptly to take a handkerchief from her sleeve. The movement seemed awkward and the handkerchief appeared to shine. Miss Storm-Fleming fired again. The baroness crumpled forward, falling on her husband’s body.

Miss Storm-Fleming walked over to the lifeless couple. Kneeling down on one knee, she examined the two bodies. After reassuring herself that the Von Sterns were no longer a threat, she removed a derringer from the baroness’s hand and the submarine plans from her coat. She then got back to her feet and walked towards Miss Norton.

When the two women were face to face, she lifted her arm and held the plans in front of her.

‘Here you are, Miss Norton. And in future, you might want to take better care of government property.’

M
IDNIGHT ON
S
UNDAY
14 A
PRIL
1912

T
he
Titanic
was utterly motionless in the water. But it was far from silent. High above the boat deck the ship’s huge funnels were blowing off steam with a mighty roar.

Holmes, Miss Norton, Miss Storm-Fleming and I were making our way forward to the bridge, where we planned to tell Captain Smith the sad news that he had two more deaths to deal with. We were all reluctant to burden the captain with more problems, since we knew he would be fully occupied with the ship’s structural damage. At that point, we had no idea how serious the damage really was.

The other passengers and most of the crew were also in the dark. A number of people, awakened by the commotion, were braving the cold to see what all the fuss was about. Some were bundled up in their warmest clothing, while others were wearing coats over their pyjamas. They stood along the rail, shivering and staring out into the dark – but there were no answers to be found. When asked, the crew would speculate that the ship had lost a propeller blade, or that they had stopped to avoid nearby icebergs. No one really knew for sure.

But for me, at least, one big mystery had been solved. Miss Storm-Fleming was an agent of the American government. She had been assigned to protect the plans, and all the while keep her identity secret from her British counterparts. (Did Mycroft know?) I had many questions to ask her, but they would have to wait until after we had seen the captain. I restrained my curiosity, knowing there would be plenty of time to talk later on.

As for the Von Sterns, there were questions about them that would never be answered. Clearly, they were agents of the German government. And quite obviously, they did not steal the plans from Miss Norton’s cabin. But I had little doubt that they had broken into my cabin, and that of Colonel James Moriarty. And what of Moriarty? Was he our thief? If so, who was he working for? One thing was certain: Moriarty could not escape in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. We would soon be dealing with him.

We arrived at the bridge at an opportune time. Captain Smith was returning with Thomas Andrews, Chief Officer Wilde and Fourth Officer Boxhall. They had been inspecting the ship’s damage.

‘My apologies, Commodore, I do not have time for you at the moment!’ the captain said curtly as he opened the door to the bridge.

‘Captain, if you please, it is quite urgent.’

‘Sir, I am afraid you do not know the meaning of the word!’ He paused and his voice suddenly lowered to a calmer tone. ‘Very well, I suppose you all want to come...and Miss Storm-Fleming, too. Come with me, then.’

Andrews appeared to be both perplexed and impatient with the encounter. He had a look of urgency on his face.