Chapter 7: A Sordid Mess
10:00 PM, April 14th
As I made my back to the Aft Grand Staircase, Daisy ran up to greet me excitedly.
"Did you get it? Get his name?" she asked.
"Yes. It's George Quincy Clifford." I replied.
"Clifford…. Clifford… Never heard of him. You don't suppose he's rich do you?" Daisy asked.
"Could be filthy." I shrugged. "Or merely stinking."
"You're an angel!" she exclaimed. "And I've news for you, too! While you were gone, Andrew Conkling's been asking for you. Yes, Conkling, the steel baron! God knows what he's been doing in Europe! Buying it, probably… And… Where was I…? Oh, yes! Andrew Conkling asked me to pass along this…"
She held out a car with a message scrawled upon it. I took the card that Daisy presented to me and read it.
"A matter of extreme urgency requires your attention. Meet me in the Scotland Road. A.C."
As I read the card, Daisy continued her rambling gossip.
"You know his wife, Beatrix, the designer? Such an eye! Her clothes preserve the bust line, couldn't be more flattering. Keeps the eye moving, much nicer than Worth's! They're friends with Captain Smith. Smith! So handsome, so dashing! White Star's best officer. Or was. He's retiring after this voyage. Couldn't be more tragic."
I suddenly felt another feeling of impending doom come over me that I couldn't explain.
"My dear, you've blanched! Bad news?" Daisy asked.
"I need to be going." I said.
"Certainly, certainly, I must… it's Mrs. Borebank! Consuelo!" Daisy exclaimed, running off to meet another one of her friends, I assumed.
Though I needed to get the painting back to Pringle, I decided to go and see what Mr. Conkling wanted. A short while later, I wandered down dimly-lit Scotland Road. Just as before, the corridor was entirely deserted except for a middle-aged man wearing a business suit just ahead of me, standing by a rope and fire axe. As I approached, he walked up to me and introduced himself.
"Hello, I'm Andrew Conkling. Good of you to come." The man said. "I trust you're finding the accommodations satisfactory?"
"I suppose." I replied, not sure what to make of Conkling. "Why did you ask to meet with me?"
"Sorry to seem mysterious." Conkling replied. "You must understand that someone in my position, an investor in this ship, needs discretion."
"Why would that be?" I asked.
"You're under no obligation of course." He assured me. "I have a slight problem and you may be able to help me."
"That depends. What's the problem?" I asked.
Conkling began to explain the problem. "A servant has stolen an important business document from me and I must recover it."
I could see that Conkling looked nervous as he spoke.
"A few years ago, my wife, Beatrix, hired a young Irish girl as a maid in our London house. We treated her well. Two weeks ago, she up and left without notice, taking a certain letter with her. I'd given up all hope of recovering it until my wife spotted her this morning on the Third Class Promenade! Needless to say I checked with the purser. She'd been scheduled to sail on the Philadelphia, but those passengers were transferred on board the Titanic because of a coal strike."
"You're lucky she's onboard." I said.
"Yes, you could say that." Conkling replied, again sounding a bit nervous.
"But why do you need my help?" I asked. "Can't you confront her yourself?"
"I'd prefer to employ the services of the third party." Conkling answered. "Government officials, friends of mine, told me a bureau agent was on board. I found you through Miss Cashmore, a preposterous woman, but she does have an eye for accomplishment."
"And these government officials just give that information out freely, do they?" I asked, somewhat annoyed that some official blew my cover.
"Look, will you help me? You will be rewarded handsomely." Conkling practically begged.
"I suppose…" I said, though I wasn't entirely comfortable with getting involved in the matter. "I need to know more though."
"Her name is Shailagh Hacker." Conkling said. "She's twenty or thereabouts. I was her benefactor, one might say."
"Just her benefactor?" I asked.
"Umm, yes." Conkling replied. "This puts me in a difficult situation. This young woman, she could cause considerable damage to me. To my reputation if she goes to the papers."
That letter must contain something damning! I thought.
"What's in the letter?" I asked.
"Confidential business matters." Conkling replied. "Conkling Steel provides steel for ships. This ship, for example. If the contents of the letter were publicized, our competitors would profit greatly."
"And where is the woman now?" I inquired, still unsure whether this was an affair I wanted to be involved in.
""I had gotten word to meet her on the Poop Deck." Replied Conkling. "Go in my place. Tell her there will be no trouble if she returns the letter. Afterwards, report to me in our suite, B-59. Her name is Shailagh Hacker."
"I'll see what I can do." I assured him.
I left Mr. Conkling and headed aft to the Second Class stairs. I took the stairs to B-Deck and exited through the door that led to the stern.
All was quiet on deck and I proceeded through the aft well deck and up the stairs to the poop deck. A few steerage passengers were taking the air out on deck but no one seemed to take notice of me. I could hear the propellers churning the water below as I approached the very back of the ship. I saw a young man and a young woman standing by the flagpole by the aft railing. They both watched me as I approached. Judging by their appearance, they were definitely steerage.
The woman appeared to be in her early twenties with brown hair. She wearing a plain white dress. The man wore black pants and a black coat and a dark flat cap.
As I approached, the man put his arm around the woman and glared at me.
"What did I tell you Shai? I knew he'd not come in person." The young man exclaimed angrily with a thick Irish accent.
"Hush Jack hush!" the woman said to the man. Then she turned to me. "Conkling, he did send you, didn't he?"
"Conkling asked me to meet with the young lady." I announced to the couple.
"I told you it's a trick!" Jack yelled angrily, pointing at me. "I knew Conkling wouldn't come. He sent one of his cronies instead."
"Are you her friend or her protector?" I asked the young man, though truthfully I didn't want any trouble.
"I'm her brother." He growled. "And Conkling, because of him Shailagh's had to leave everything and everyone she knows!"
"Jack, don't!" the young woman begged.
"That son of a bitch!" Jack yelled. "She was his maid, and all the time he was violating her!"
Violating her? I thought. I was becoming increasingly suspicious that there was something Conkling wasn't telling me.
"Hush Jack! I'll have no more of it!" Shailagh ordered her brother. "Go on, Jack, say it!"
Jack pointed at me.
"You tell Conkling we have his letter, and he'll not be seein' it till he coughs up a tidy sum for it too!"
"How much?" I asked.
"Five thousand. Ya hear? Dollars! Enough to get 'er started off right in America!" Jack replied.
"And if he moves his hand against us I'll make sure the newspapers get it and print it. So tell Conkling five thousand. Measured against what he has it's a bloody bargain!" Jack then added.
"Alright, I'll go and speak to him." I reassured the two of them.
"Meet us here again tonight at one." Shailagh instructed.
"Five thousand and he'll get his damned letter. Agreed?" Jack asked, sounding a bit calmer.
"I'll have to see what Mr. Conkling says." I replied.
Shailagh nodded. "We'll be waitin' for ya."
I departed and made my way to the B-Deck cabins to speak with Andrew Conkling. I wanted to know more about the letter. Why was it so important? That would have to wait though. I arrived at Conkling's cabin, B-59, and knocked on the door.
"Please come in." I heard Conkling call from inside.
I opened the door and entered the lavish stateroom. Conkling was standing by the porthole, looking out the window. He turned to me as I walked up to him
"I had hoped to meet you earlier, however, me and my wife were calling on the Astors. Madeline's pregnant. Beatrix was thrilled! We have no children." he explained.
I nodded and Conkling asked, "How did you get on?"
"I found Shailagh and her brother." I replied. "They want five thousand dollars for the letter."
"I see! It's a ransom!" Conkling exclaimed.
I heard the door behind me and a woman wearing a grey dress and a large hat with a pair of feathers sticking out of it entered.
"May I present Mrs. Conkling?" Mr. Conkling stated.
"You should pitch the ungrateful girl overboard." Mrs. Conkling said, joining us, smoking a cigarette.
"Charmed, I'm sure." I replied.
"Your clothes, French cut. Quite fetching." She remarked, examining the tuxedo I was wearing.
"Beatrix is on her way to California." Andrew Conkling explained. ""She's got a new project in... where is it dear?"
"A cow town." Beatrix answered, taking another puff of her cigarette. "Someplace call Los Angeles. I'm doing up a little resort there called the Beverly Hills Hotel."
She put out her cigarette in an ash tray on the night stand.
"So where is the Irish tart now? Dreaming of her newfound riches?"
"We were just talking about that, dear." Mr. Conkling answered.
"My husband and myself extended every courtesy" Beatrix informed me. "Showed every kindness to Shailagh. We've no children. Shailagh became quite dear to us, so her theft hurt us all the more for the trust we placed in her."
Beatrix then looked to her husband and then back to me. "Now excuse me" she said. "I really must retire. I have a frightful headache."
"Well, I hope you feel better." I replied.
I had even more questions now, but I knew I wouldn't be getting them from the Conklings.
"It was a pleasure." Beatrix said before retiring to bed.
"My wife felt strongly about Shailagh." explained Conkling. "As I've told you, we've no children of our own. Look, you must get that letter. Don't wait until tomorrow. See if you can speak to Shailagh directly, without her brother. She's in the Third Class Cabins Forward on F-Deck, cabin 59."
"Alright, I'll go have a word with her." I assured Mr. Conkling.
"Good. I'll speak to you about it tomorrow. Goodnight." Conkling replied.
What have I gotten myself caught up in? I asked myself as I exited the cabin.
The whole thing was turning into a sordid mess. I still wanted answers, and I still wanted to hear Shailagh's side of the story. I returned to Scotland Road and followed it all the way forward until I came to a stairway that led down to F-Deck. I descended into the third class hallway and searched until I found cabin F-59. I knocked on the door.
"Jack? Is that you? I'll be right out." I heard Shailagh call out from inside.
Shailagh opened the door and came out, though she had her back to me when she began to speak.
"I don't want to wake the baby." She said.
A baby? I thought to myself.
Shailagh gasped in shock when she saw me.
"But we were meeting later! Where's Jack?" she asked, seeming a lot more frightened now that her brother wasn't there.
"I don't know where Jack is." I answered truthfully. "I just want to talk."
"Please, I don't want no trouble!" Shailagh pleaded with me. "I didn't know the letter was so dear. I just wanted to take something, anything that looked valuable. For the baby! It was Jack who read it. Saw it was bad for Mr. Conkling. He said the bit about selling bad steel would ruin him if it was to get out in the papers."
"Please, Miss Hacker, I don't mean you any harm." I reassured her. "You said something about a baby?"
"My baby, Eddy" explained Shailagh. "He's the only reason I stood the last month at the Conklings. I knew Mr. Conkling weren't gonna leave his missus. I was only a parlor maid, but I didn't care. I was happy to have his baby."
That was when it hit me. Jack's comment about Conkling violating Shailagh suddenly made sense!
"Him and Mrs. Conkling, I thought they were so kind. Until I found out." Shailagh said, sound upset. "Till I found out."
"Found out what?" I asked, curious.
"That Mrs. Conkling..." Shailagh trailed off as if she was too distraught to continue. "Mrs. Conkling was going to steal my baby for her own! Once I had it she would fire me and take Eddy for herself!" she exclaimed. "She can't have her own babies. So she... So they... they used me to get one! To get Eddy! When I found out that was her plan I left. I didn't know the letter was anything. I thought it might hold a pound or two."
I was disgusted as I listened to her story, and I regretted more than ever that I ever got involved with the Conklings. Mr. Conkling had used his position to take advantage of this poor girl so he and his wife could steal her child! In my eyes, the Conklings represented all that was wrong and immoral about high society! However, I decided to change the subject. I still wanted to know about the letter.
"What did the letter say about the steel?" I asked, curious to know more.
"Jack says Mr. Conkling got the letter from an engineer up at the mill." Shailagh replied. "Said the mill's been making bad steel! High in sulfur's what he called it. The steel's no good, and they put it in the Titanic! It'd be a scandal if it got out. That's why Mr. Conkling wants the letter back. But Jack, he says Conkling will have to pay us to get it. Five thousand dollars!"
Now I understood why Conkling was so desperate to get the letter!
"They used bad steel to build this ship?" I exclaimed.
" Ha! Mrs. Conkling's probably behind it." Shailagh declared. "All she cares about is a fine name and pots o'cash! And a baby. But she won't get Eddy, no she won't! And if she tries, I'll ruin her! Make her poor as me!"
At that moment I heard a baby begin to cry from inside the cabin.
"Oh! That's Eddy! Bye! Don't forget about our meeting!" Shailagh reminded me.
"Alright. We'll meet later. Goodnight." I said, and Shailagh returned to her cabin.
I sighed as I left the steerage area.
I never should have gotten myself involved in this! I told myself. I suppose I'll tell Conkling to pay the ransom and be done with it.
I needed to deliver the painting to Pringle. As I walked toward the Second Class stairs, I saw Smethells approaching me.
"Ah, there you are, Mr. Carlson." He greeted me.
"What are you doing here, Smethells?" I asked.
"I have a message for you from Lady Lambeth." He replied, holding out a card for me.
I took the card and read it: "Meet me on the A-Deck promenade as soon as you can! -Georgia"
"Thank you, Smethells." I said.
Pringle would just have to wait a little longer. The painting wasn't going anywhere, so I began to head up toward A-Deck to see what Georgia wanted.
To be continued…