Carlson had to think fast. He had to retrieve the Rubaiyat, but how? How could he get past Vlad? Finally, he had an idea.
"Vlad, I'm going down to inspect the boilers first" he said. It seemed like a good excuse to have to go down there. Vlad just nodded at him and continued to pace up and down the catwalk.
Carlson climbed down the ladder from the catwalk to the boiler area. The heat was almost unbearable, but he had a mission to do. He went immediately to Coal Chute 4. Carlson looked up to be sure that Vlad wasn't watching, then opened to panel to chute door lever. Lo and behold, there it was, the Rubaiyat. Once more, he looked up to make sure Vlad wasn't watching, and then quickly shoved the Rubaiyat in his satchel. But, he wasn't done yet.
Carlson then went to the coal chute the farthest down the line, and transferred the Rubaiyat to that coal chute's lever box. He once again looked to see if Vlad had seen him. Fortunately, Vlad hadn't. Carlson went back up to the catwalk.
"I'll get your package from Mr. Barbicon now" Carlson told Vlad.
He walked back the same way he had come, through the engine, control, and turbine rooms, up the small stairwell to F-Deck, and then up the Second Class Stairs up to the Boat Deck. He then walked around to the door to the Forward Grand Staircase. He once again saw the heavy set man at the landing. Carlson thought he would talk to him for a while, maybe he could be of some help.
"Oh! Hello!" said the man as Carlson walked toward him. "Don't think we've met. I'm Leyland Sachum Trask, metaphysical scribe and evangelist for the supernatural."
"My name's Carlson", said Carlson as they shook hands.
Trask continued: "I've been in London attending a conference on premonitions among sensitives"
Carlson didn't believe in that sort of thing but decided to go along with it. "Where are you from?" he asked.
"You've heard of my institute, the Astral Bureau of Circulation? In Boston?" Trask answered. "The ABC is a place where mediums of impeccable character can co-mingle in harmony."
"Are your predictions reliable?" Carlson asked.
"There's a range of course" Trask responded. "But, given the right training psychics can reveal information hidden to others."
Carlson realized that this man might be of some help after all. "What are your predictions for the Titanic?" he asked.
"This is a ship of destiny…" answered Trask "… which I think you know."
He knew alright. This time, however, he was sure he could not fail, though he had his doubts.
"I would like you to do a reading of something…" said Carlson as he dug through his satchel. He had a feeling that the necklace had significance, so he took it out. "…this necklace?" he asked.
Trask looked over it and waved his hand in front of the necklace. He then handed it back. "These, my friend, will surprise you, mark my words" Trask warned.
"How could a diamond necklace surprise me, it doesn't make any sense" Carlson thought. He then remembered Vlad. "Thank you, I must be going now" Carlson told Trask.
"Goodnight" Trask responded as Carlson walked away.
Carlson walked to the double doors leading to the A-Deck Cabins. The A-Deck cabin area was different in the fact that the cabins were located in alcoves, not one central hallway. Eventually he found a door marked A-14 and knocked on it. A seemingly wealthy and thus well-dressed man answered the door.
"Yes?" the man asked.
"I'm looking for a Mr. Barbicon" answered Carlson.
"You've found him" the man answered. "Sasha Barbicon of Barbicon Galleries."
"The names Carlson" he responded as they shook hands.
"Now what is it that I can help you with?" asked Sasha.
"I'm here to receive a package. For Vlad" Carlson answered.
Sasha suddenly looked startled. "For Vlad? He's on board? Please come in."
Carlson was ushered into Sasha's cabin, which was tiny compared to his own. As one would expect from an art dealer, Sasha had several paintings stored in the room.
Sasha laughed as he closed the door behind them. "He did it! I told him not to, told him I'd pay his ticket, but he was too proud. Such a tragedy about his family. They were with my mother's people."
"What happened to his family?" Carlson asked, hoping to get some second-hand information.
"When Austria took Bosnia they were killed, many were" answered Sasha. "With his family dead America seems as good a place as any for Vlad."
"What will he do in America?" asked Carlson, curious.
Sasha shrugged. "Ask Vlad, I don't know". Sasha gave Carlson a box wrapped in paper and sealed with string. "Here. His things. He'll be glad to get them. It's rather late."
Carlson wasn't done talking to Sasha just yet. "Do you know Lady Georgia?" he asked.
"Our history is quite…complex" Sasha answered.
"You know she's onboard" Carlson replied.
"Certainly!" Sasha responded. "Georgia is a woman who does not go unnoticed."
"She indicated that" answered Carlson.
"Georgia exudes a certain romantic paranoia" Sasha continued. "A condition I fear worsened by Charles' own romance with whiskey."
"Lord Lambeth drinks?" Carlson asked, quite surprised.
"Continuously" Sasha answered. "One hears there are financial troubles. They say Charles owes Andrew Conkling thousands of pounds."
Carlson thought about how much Georgia must be going through. "Can Georgia be trusted?" he asked.
"Georgia?" Sasha responded. "Have you talked to her? You be the judge. She's accused me of outrageous deeds! Libellous practically! I'm part Slav you see, a Serbian on my mother's side."
"No wonder he's in cahoots with Vlad!" thought Carlson.
Sasha continued: "Georgia finds a mixture of sources for wild stories."
"Wild stories? I must rescue her from all this!" Carlson thought. "What will happen to her?" Carlson asked Sasha.
"Not much anyone can do I'm afraid" Sasha responded. " Georgia's in clear need of a rest."
Carlson had had quite enough of this. "Goodnight" said Carlson.
"Goodnight" responded Sasha. "And don't believe what Lady Georgia says. She's not well. Enjoy your voyage." And with that Carlson was ushered out of the room.
As Carlson walked back to the Second Class Stairs, all he could think about was the suffering Georgia must be going through. Along with being in an unhappy marriage, her husband drank, and her so-called friend thought she was crazy. He definitely had to rescue her now!
For the third time Carlson walked down the Second Class Stairs to the F-Deck cabin area, down the stairwell, through the Turbine, Control, and Engine rooms, then through the first two boiler rooms until he arrived back at Boiler Room 3. Vlad was still there, waiting by the railing.
"Here is your package" Carlson said as he handed the package to Vlad. Vlad seemed to have a frustrated look on his face.
"Thank you" Vlad said. "I must see Mr. Barbicon, I have bad news." He looked to be sure no one was listening. "He will not be happy. I am looking for something. Something very important, but it's not here. You have seen a small…" Vlad stopped himself. "…It is of no importance. Goodnight." And with that, Vlad left the Boiler Room in a huff.
Carlson was pleased that his little trick had worked. He climbed down the stoker area and went to the lever box of the coal chute he'd hidden the Rubaiyat in. Sure enough, it was still there. Once again, he took it out and stowed it in his satchel. The stokers were too busy tending the boilers to even notice him. Once again he walked back through the boiler, engine, control, and turbine rooms. He walked back up the stairwell to F-Deck cabin area. He then found F-34, Penny's cabin. Carlson knocked on the door. Penny promptly answered it.
"Did you get it, did you find the Rubayait?" Penny asked excitedly.
Before he answered that question, Carlson thought he'd try to cull more information from the clues he'd found already.
"Let's first go over the clues that I have as of now. I've decoded a telegram Zeitel sent" he told Penny.
"Smashing!" Penny replied. "What have you learned?"
"The Rubayait was stowed in a coal chute in the boiler room" Carlson said.
"I was wondering how you got so dirty" said Penny. "There's a spot on your cheek. Yes, right there." Penny pointed it out. "You've got it!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, but before I give you the Rubaiyat I have something else to tell you" Carlson said. "Zeitel's exchanging the Rubaiyat for a painting he will pick up later."
"More art?" Penny responded. "Zeitel's no connoisseur. No, there's something about that painting of interest to the German High Command."
"There's something else" said Carlson. "I met a stowaway named Vlad. He knows Sasha, an art dealer."
"I don't have any information about Vlad, but the other fellow, look here" she said as she held out a photograph of Sasha.
Penny continued: "Zeitel's Titanic contact is a London art dealer named Sasha Barbicon. They say he smuggles art, but he's not about selling stolen merchandise. The files say he's Serbian interestingly enough, with links to some shady Balkan groups."
"It's all coming together now…" though Carlson. He was now ready to hand over the Rubaiyat. "Here's the Rubaiyat" he said as he pulled the book out of his satchel.
"Let me see!" Penny responded. She then looked over the book. "That's the Rubaiyat alright! Well done! Leave it with the purser for safe keeping. It should be undisturbed there." Penny handed over the Rubaiyat to him, and he put it back in his satchel.
"What do I do now?" asked Carlson.
"The painting is what Zeitel's really after" Penny answered. "You must secure it. Where or how I don't care, just find it and bring it back here. Remember, leave the Rubaiyat with the purser for safe keeping. He might also know where the painting is stored. Sneak a peek at his Cargo Manifest, that should help you find the painting. Cargo is stored somewhere below the Forecastle Deck. Things are thickening up quite nicely aren't they? We've got to get our hands on that painting! Don't fail!" And with that, Penny went back inside her room.
As Carlson stood in the hallway, he tried to think of a way to get to the painting quickly, because he'd have to act fast. He'd improvise he thought, and try to get to the cargo hold as soon as possible.
One burning question remained: How could he get that painting before Zeitel could get his hands on it?
TO BE CONTINUED
COMING NEXT: Race to the Painting