Chapter 6: The Painting
9:45 PM, April 14th
Since I'm going to see the purser anyway, I can take care of Daisy's little errand while I'm there.
I moved quickly, heading for the purser's inquiry office on C-Deck just off the Grand Staircase. The purser was sitting at his desk, staring at a clipboard he was holding, muttering "Thayer, Thayer, Thayer…"
He saw me standing there. "Oh, what do you want?"
"What about Mr. Thayer?" I asked.
"Oh what do you know? Not that it matters. I'm much too busy. I must get this telegram through for Mr. Thayer. Mr. Thayer expects his private train car to meet him in New York, and I can't leave my post. But I need to send this telegram."
I hatched an idea.
"Perhaps I can deliver it for you." I offered. After all, being helpful had proven beneficial before.
"You would do that?" he asked, seeming somewhat surprised. "Yes, it might be helpful if you deliver this message to the wireless room for me. Even better, why don't you send it for me! Mr. Thayer is a very important man! So, send the telegram at once. And when you have, don't forget to tell me."
I could see that the purser was a very demanding individual, but I decided to go along with it.
"Alright. I'll send the telegram for you. Also, I need to ask about a couple other things." I replied.
"Certainly." Said the purser.
"First, I need to check this book into the safe." I said, handing him the Rubaiyat.
"Hmm, very nice." The purser stated, examining the book. "I'll put this right in the safe!"
I considered putting Georgia's necklace in the safe as well, but decided to hold on to it for the time being.
When the purser returned, he asked, "Will there be anything else?"
"Yes, I need to now the name of a passenger whose initials are G-Q-C." I said.
"Let me see…" the purser whispered, examining the passenger list.
"Most likely in First Class." I added.
The purser nodded and continued looking over the list.
"Ah, here we go. Mr. George Quincy Clifford, cabin A-27." The purser said.
"Thank you, sir. I'll go deliver your telegram." I said.
I departed the purser's office and made my way topside. The air out of deck was even colder than it had been earlier in the evening. As I reached the wireless room, I could hear sounds coming from within.
The operators must be back at work. I thought. No matter. I'll just leave the telegram with them.
Officer Morrow was still patrolling the deck but offered no objection as I reached for the door so I went on in.
A young gentleman was sitting in the chair, manning the telegraph key and wearing a headset. He was steadily tapping out messages in Morse code. He turned and glanced at me as I entered.
"Hey, passengers aren't allowed in here!" he shouted.
"Sorry, sir, I'm just delivering a telegram for the purser. Something came up and he wasn't able to deliver it himself." I replied.
The operator sighed.
"Alright, set it there on the outgoing stack." He instructed.
I deposited the telegram on top of the stack of outgoing messages. At that moment the door opened and another young man entered, carrying two cups of hot coffee.
"Take over for a moment." The operator at the telegraph said, removing his headset.
The other man nodded and placed the two cups of coffee on the desk, sitting down and putting on the headset.
"You must be Phillips." I said.
The man nodded, picking up the cup of coffee and taking a sip.
"Most people call me "John" or "Jack"." He said. "And this is my assistant, Harold Bride."
Mr. Bride picked up the telegram I had just delivered and shook his head.
"Look at this one! He wants his private train to meet him! La-di-da! We'll be up all bloody night on this lot!"
Phillips chuckled. "You'll be up all night on that bloody lot!"
"Looks like you boys have quite a workload." I noted.
Philips shook his head.
"The bloody thing broke yesterday and it took us all day to fix it. Now we've got to work through the backlog!"
"Sorry to hear that." I said. "I've always been fascinated by this sort of technology. Do you enjoy this kind of work?"
"I love it!" Phillips said. "When everything works, that is. I'd give you a tour, but I'm much too busy." Phillips replied, taking another sip of coffee.
"We're passing Cape Race and it's our only chance to send messages directly to the mainland until we approach New York." He explained.
"Well, I'll leave you to it then." I said, heading for the door.
"Oh, since you're running errands for the purser…" Phillips called after me, picking up another telegram. "Take this back to him and tell him to tell whoever keeps sending these to bugger off! I have better things to do than transmit gibberish!"
I took the telegram and examined it. It was addressed to Berlin and contained another string of random numbers and letters.
Another of Zeitel's telegrams! I thought.
"I'll let him know." I said. "And if any more of these come in, would it be alright if I stopped by to pick them up?"
"Certainly!" Phillips replied.
"Goodnight." I said, departing.
I'll have to decode this later. I thought, looking at the telegram as I quickly returned to the purser's office.
"I sent your telegram." I said to the purser.
"You sent it? That's wonderful!" he replied.
"Shall I tell Mr. Thayer?" I asked.
"And let him think the purser's not doing his job?" he replied, indignantly. "I am the purser, and as purser I am the one who looks after the Titanic's passengers. Mr. Thayer is the vice-president of the Pennsylvania Railroad, and it is I who shall inform him that his trail will be waiting! So, if you'll excuse me..."
The purser exited his office, leaving it unattended. I saw my change and reached through the window, grabbing the cargo manifest which la on his desk. I quickly flipped through it, looking for Sasha Barbicon's name. After turned several pages I caught a glimpse of Barbicon's name. A painting was listed as being shipped in a crate labeled "Lemke & Buechner Shipping", with "Barbicon Galleries" listed as being the owner. I also noted that Bill Carter's automobile was stored in the same hold, according to the manifest.
Placing the cargo manifest back on the purser's desk, I pondered how to get into the cargo hold. I saw the keys to the car hanging on the hall beside the desk, and I recalled how during her mindless rambling, Daisy had revealed that Bill Carter was allowed into the cargo hold to check on his car. I hatched another idea and reached through the window, grabbing the keys from the wall.
You do have your uses, Miss Cashmore. I thought, reminding myself of why I still put up with her.
Moving quickly, I headed for the cargo hold, located in the bow below the forecastle deck. I hurried through the door, eager to get in out of the cold. The corridor beneath the forecastle was dark and dimly lit, much like Scotland Road. I saw a small spiral staircase that led down into the depths of the ship, and a sigh above it labeled "Stairs to Cargo Hold". I descended the long staircase that went down several decks until I reached the bottom. A crewman stood guarding a large door. When he saw me, he quickly approached me. I held up the car keys for him to see.
"No one's allowed to enter the ca… You've got the keys! You're a Carter!" he exclaimed in surprise. "Course you can enter! Right this way! Mind your head, its dark in there."
I followed him as he opened the massive door leading to the cargo hold. Indeed, the room was very dimly lit.
"Come to see your new automobile have you?" he asked me. "Can't say I don't blame you. She's a beauty!" he exclaimed.
I just nodded and said nothing.
"Gleaming like a new penny! You can find your way from here." he said.
I pocketed the keys and proceeded on into the cargo hold. Crates and boxes were stacked high all around me. The room was so poorly lit that I had a hard time making anything out.
I should have brought a torch with me! I thought.
Finally I spotted what was unmistakably an automobile. Even in the darkness, its metal exterior shined in the dim light. The painting was in a crate nearby.
I can't see anything!
I looked around in the darkness to no avail. Then an idea hit me. I went to the automobile and searched for a switch to turn on the headlamps. Finding a switch on top of the lamps, I turned them on and flooded the area directly in front of the car with light. Right in front of the car, I saw a crate labeled "Lemke & Buechner". Opening the crate, I saw the painting inside.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I carefully removed the canvas from the frame, and placed the empty frame back in the crate. I rolled up the canvas and placed it in my satchel. I was about to leave when I heard the door to the hold open and footsteps echoing through the cavernous cargo hold.
No time to run… I'll have to hide! I thought.
I turned out the headlamps on the automobile and crouched down behind it. Moments later, a lone, shadowy figure appeared. They proceeded to turn on the headlamps and as they ran to the crate that had contained the painting, I recognized Willi Haderlitz. He picked up the empty picture frame and stared at it for a few seconds before dropping it back into the crate. He glanced around and for a moment, I feared he would discover me. However, he just turned out the headlamps and departed.
I quietly crept from my hiding place and glanced back toward the door where I saw him speaking with the crewman. The crewman shrugged and Haderlitz threw his hands up into the air before leaving the cargo hold. I waited for a few minutes to ensure that he was actually gone before leaving.
As I returned to the door, the crewman greeted me again.
"Can't say I blame you for seeing after your investment. It was an honor to help one of the Carters." Again I just nodded.
"There was another fella who came down here just now too." The crewman said. "Only he weren't looking at no motorcar! He was looking for a painting, but he couldn't find it at all! Looked like he was 'bout to jump outta his skin about it too! Bloomin' art lovers."
I decided it was time to leave. I went back to the purser's office and dropped the keys on his desk. He was busy with something else and didn't seem to notice, which suited me just fine.
I should go and see Daisy now. I thought.
I decided to stop by my cabin and decode Zeitel's second telegram just to see what it said.
I sat down at my table and turned on the cryptograph machine.
I first punched in the numbers "8755" followed by the letters "DRIPAVJCLFBX AM", then flipped the decode switch. Once the machine decoded the message, it printed out another piece of paper.
"Something wrong. SB says Rubaiyat missing. Have sent my man after painting anyway.
Zeitel"
I chuckled and grinned to myself.
"A little too late, Zeitel." I whispered.
To be continued…