background info - in 1912, Italy and Turkey were fighting constantly, much like of the nation's in today's middle east. This set the stage for a few of World War One (1914-1918) events. Turkey has had many different names, but for easier reading I'm calling it by our modern name.
Frank rushed down halls, inspecting everything.
"Frank, why? There's loads of other things to look at. Take the boiler room. Doesn't that sound exciting?" Joe shook the list of places at his brother.
"There could be something important down here, you never-"
He was cut short by a man rudely and deliberately bumping into him.
"Hey, watch it," Joe cried, "Why did you ram into my brother?"
"Sorry, my English no good," the man said in a thick accent.
He passed them, giving them and their detective badges a keen glance that made them both uneasy.
"I don't like that, Frank."
"Me either, but why? I mean, there's nothing sinister in that he just bumped into me! It seemed deliberate, but surely not. We don't know him, and he doesn't know us."
They stopped at a large deck, families wandering about.
"The first and second class people know who we are, why not offer our services here?"
"So that's what your up to! Frank, we're here to find items of actual value if they go missing, or comfort senile old ladies. We don't need to help-"
"Joe! Since when have you been so high and mighty?"
"I'm not! I just think we won't have any real cases here."
"Fine. It's worth a try. Between the two of us, we can translate this into several languages."
Within five minutes, Joe was standing on a table.
"Good afternoon, everyone! If you have any trouble on this trip, just let my brother and I know. We will be your ship's detectives for the remainder of your stay."
He repeated it in several different languages and hopped down.
"Well? Frank, didn't I sound official?"
"As official as a sixteen year old can be. Come on."
"I thought you liked it down here, and now you want to leave? Listen to that music. It's hopping."
"I didn't say we had to embrace all their customs, just offer our services."
"Now who's snobby? Don't be so scared. They don't bite."
A little but enthusiastic group of motley musicians was playing a lively tune. Joe saw Irish,German,Italian, Turkish, and Scandinavian immigrants, as well as a few lower class English and Americans. He had no clue where the rest of the group came from, but it was certainly a melting pot.
He was tapping his toes when he heard a voice behind him.
"Mr. Hardy?"
He turned and saw a beautiful girl with olive skin and hazel eyes. A younger girl stood beside her.
"Call me Joe. Can I help you with something?"
Her English was lightly accented. "Yes, please do help. Oh, I speak English, do not worry."
"Alright. What do you need?"
To his surprise, her eyes filled with tears. "Bad men are after Fatima and I. They kill our friends, family, now they want it from us..."
He shifted a foot. He always got uncomfortable when women cried. Where was Frank?
"Look, it's okay. Here, wipe your eyes. What's your name?"
"Elea."
"Ee-LAY-uh. Where are you from?"
"Turkey. I had better start at the beginning. Fatima, run and play with your new friends."
The little girl, who appeared six or seven, was apparently not as talkative as her sister. She shrank back, still clutching Elea's hand.
"The little boy and girl with the jacks, you do not remember? See, they are waiting for you. Go!"
The younger girl ran off and Elea turned back to Joe.
"Now I tell. Italy does not like Turkey. They fight us to get land. My father was very wealthy. He owned large amounts of land in Turkey, and had much gold and jewelry. Old, fine family. He could afford tutors for my sister and I(I learn English from tutor), and silk shawls for my mother."
"What does this have to do with people being after you?"
"Most Turks are not Christian. My family is one of the few old, wealthy Christian families, and the Turk rebels hate us. They needed money to fight, and my father would not give it to them. Italians hate us too, simply because we are Turkish.
So when my father learns the rebels will attack, he sees my mother's jewels and his important papers into my coat lining. My parents prepare for our family to get away. But the rebels came early..."
Elea rubbed her hand subconsciously, and Joe noticed a jagged scar running down her palm.
She continued her story.
"One of the rebels came into my room. Fatima was reading with me. I fought him away, and we hid."
Her voice dropped.
"I couldn't save my parents... but Fatima and I escaped. We went to our Aunt in England, but she became ill. We're going to America to start a new life, but I must confess I'm scared."
He put his hand over hers. It was an awfully forward thing to do, he thought instantly, but the comforted smile she gave him made it all right.
"So, the rebels want your father's papers?"
"For some reason. I can't figure out what's so important in them. Oh, and they want -this-"
Joe's eyes nearly popped as she opened the clenched fist of her other hand to reveal an enormous necklace set with various gemstones.
"To finance their rebel group?"
"Yes. I have several more gems in my bag, but I'm afraid they are no longer safe. I carry some with me at all times. Joe, I believe some of the rebels are on this ship."
She started to cry again.
Joe finally saw Frank and waved him over. In hushed tones he repeated the story.
"Joe, do you think that man who bumped into me was a rebel?"
"I don't know! Listen, we'd better get back up to our class. It's nearly dinnertime, and we have places at the captain's table."
It was too bad neither brother saw the murderous glance a swarthy man gave them as they left steerage.