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An Untold Sherlock Holmes Story
Everyone knows the fate of the RMS Titanic.
Has anyone given thought that the sad demise of the Ship might have been an elaborate publicity scam?
Sherlock Holmes, the famed British detective,
 leads us through his own personal theory

r. John H. Watson, a large man with a bushy moustache, the famed physician-turned-chronicler had not been a frequent visitor to his old friend Sherlock Holmes lately. Ever since their last adventure together during The Great War , later published as His Last Bow, a seasonal visit was the most that the great detective would receive from his biographer, as the sleuth once wrote in a rare literary moment.

It was one chilly winter afternoon in 1916 that the aging doctor took a break from his practice and writings for Strand magazine and traveled to Sussex to visit his former Baker Street companion, now retired and living in a farm, devoted to tending to and studying the habits of bees.

The old friends walked about the farm, inspected the honey-making insects, and went into the untidy, clumsily furnished ,badly lit sitting-room as Sherlock Holmes was used to from those long-gone London days. The doctor smiled as he noticed his old friend's habits hadn't changed with time.

The two sat in easy chairs opposite each other, silently lighting their pipes. They chatted about the war and final collaborations together, and then, sipping brandy and amidst a cloud of smoke produced by their notorious sailor’s tobacco, they downshifted to recent facts, and then Watson commented, looking out the small window towards Holmes' flowery garden. "Holmes, I could never get over the loss of the Titanic" The slender, hawk-eyed detective lifted his eyebrows. "Any friends perished aboard the great ship, Watson?" Watson sighed, after drawing some more smoke from his pipe. "Some former patients, a few acquaintances, but no actual friends. Anyhow, one thing I cannot understand is how a ship of that magnitude, with a star crew like she had could foolishly hit an iceberg in those circumstances and go down as she did."

Sherlock Holmes giggled in his usual manner, which often distressed the good doctor.

"Ships are made of steel, Watson. Remember, not long ago, her even larger sister, the Britannic, also met a watery grave.

Watson seemed disturbed by his friend. He grunted and continued:

"Holmes, I believe The Britannic hit a mine during the war. The Titanic was lost under completely different circumstances."

The detective’s fine features, marked by his hawk-like nose got serious, almost somber.

"How can you be so sure, Watson?"

Watson raised from his chair and paced nervously about the room, annoyed by his friend’s remarks.

"Are you still into that seven percent solution, Holmes? The war only started two years ago!"

Sherlock Holmes could not help but burst into laughter, annoying even further his old friend.

"Watson, it is amazing how you still amuse me even after all these years.

Of course I know the war only started recently. What I meant with my question, though, was how you could be so sure that the loss of the Titanic was not an act of war - not necessarily this war."

"Holmes, I'm sorry, but I believe I am failing in following you."

" Let us have a walk, Watson. The cold Sussex air is soothing for two old long-time smokers as we are.”

The two men put one their coats. As usual, Holmes had his now aged but famed deerstalker hat on. They started strolling along Sherlock Holmes' estate, which is located on the southern slope of the downs, with a stunning view to the English channel. Doctor Watson inhaled the fresh scent of nature happily, experiencing a welcome change from London's gloomy, foggy air.

"Holmes, this place surely is different from our old London quarters."

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"Indeed it is, Watson. It has certainly added a few years to my existence. It is a pity that I no longer have the energy to fight crime as I did in the past. My mind is in good condition, but my body, as you know, has not been the same as my last sunset slowly approaches."

The doctor knew his friend was about to change into a gloomy subject, and started to think of a way to get back to Titanic and, by forcing Holmes’ mental powers , get him not to think of death. He was about to do so when Holmes suddenly turned to him after looking at the sea for a few moments.

" You recall that a few years ago the British liners, specially The White Star Line, were going through a crisis due to competition with foreign companies, such as Cunard?

Watson was surprised and glad he could go on with the conversation.

"Yes. Pray continue."

"At that time, Cunard had the fastest and most comfortable vessel in the North Atlantic line, the Mauritanea. White Star then, to face their competition, began building, at Harland & Wolff, the three largest ships of our generation: The Olympic, poor Titanic and finally the Gigantic

"You surely mean Britannic," said Watson.

"Gigantic was her original name. They changed their minds about that name after Titanic was lost.” Sherlock Holmes continued.

"Not too long before the disaster, Captain Smith commanded another White Star Line ship, the Adriatic, on her maiden voyage. After the crossing, he told the press, I quote, that 'modern ships were virtually unsinkable'"

"Blundering fool", scoffed Watson, as he faced the Channel.

"Watson, you must remember that for over forty years there had been no serious maritime disasters. Smith himself wasn’t much more than a child when the last one had happened. After a Cunard liner, which I can't recall ,actually rammed a berg and survived, it was natural that the public figured that Smith was right."

"But how could the engineers have boasted something like that?”

"They did not, Watson. They were, of course, aware that the ships were safe, but not fully unsinkable."

"Are you trying to tell me that the press was responsible for that general belief?"

"The press, my dear friend, can do wonders sometimes. They can create myths and destroy reputations at the stroke of a pen. You have done that yourself."

"May I inquire what you are talking about?"

Watson had a hurt tone to his voice.

"Watson, do calm down. I guess we could go to that small tavern down the road and warm ourselves up with a bit of brandy.

They walked down the path where, not very far from Holmes' property ,was a small lodging house where they served hot meals , which was patronized both by inhabitants of the small village and by a few rare visitors. A large widow in her early forties was the owner of the place, and greeted the old detective warmly.

"Hello, Mr . Holmes. Am I delighted to see you."

"Good evening, Mrs Huston. I believe you have heard of my old friend and biographer, Dr. Watson.

The lady was all smiles to the doctor, and her cheerful manners amazed the old writer.

"Dr. Watson? The Dr. Watson who writes about your adventures ? Am I very glad to meet you, sir."

Watson smiled shyly , as he wasn't used to such flattery.

"I am very happy to meet you too, Mrs. Huston. My old friend has praised your excellent meals very highly, if I may say so."

"Dear Doctor Watson," Mrs. Huston said, almost blushing, they are nothing when compared to your writings, sir."

Sherlock Holmes grunted, interrupting Mrs Huston’s flattery.

"Yes, Mrs Huston”,the detective said with a quaint smile, “this is the man who never let me live anonimously as I most honestly wished to. I have brought my friend here to savor your excellent brandy and have a bit of your smoked ham."

Mrs Huston quickly obliged, noticing the serious tone in the detective’s voice."Most certainly, sir. Please have a seat."

The lodging, although simple, was very nice and rustic inside, with wooden walls and a fireplace which kept the whole place very comfortably warm. . There were small tables with comfortable chairs in a medium-sized living room, a small balcony and a wooden staircase which lead to the few bedrooms made available for her rare overnight guests.

Mrs Huston, always smiling, served the two men and left the pair alone, but not before having the old doctor autograph a much worn copy of A Study in Scarlet, his first memoir of his adventures with Sherlock Holmes, which had been published almost thirty years earlier.

"You have indeed become a celebrity, Watson", mocked Holmes, “had you, in your dreams of a young man, dreamed of becoming notorious as a writer?

Your name has crossed countries, old lad. You are even read in distant countries in South America! I have even heard that a West End actor has adapted some of our little adventures for performance on the stage.”

"I am aware of that, Holmes, but it is you who performed and earned the fame. I merely wrote about what I saw for posterity, and nothing more.

The retired detective smiled as he served a large shot of brandy to his friend, and went on.

"You know how I feel about your overrated writings about our adventures together and of my detection skills. You have created a myth, which, as you will someday agree, has become larger than my true self."

"Are you saying I exaggerate in my writings?"

"In a way, yes, you do. However, the point is that you have created a legend which my work alone would be unable to do. Did you notice Mrs Huston's thrill to see us? It was your writings that gave us so much notoriety, not my actions alone That is also true about the press' general attitude towards Titanic. They were the ones who declared her unsinkable, not her builders."

"I understand."

"Anyhow, the press talked a lot about the Olympic, and when White Star announced the maiden voyage of her sister ship, there was great anxiety over her. Some reputable papers, dear me, quoted Titanic as 'fully unsinkable' "

"That I know, Holmes", remarked Watson, "But I still do not understand where you are trying to get to."

"Aha! I thought you would never ask. My theory, my friend, is that the great ship's collision with that iceberg was not totally an accident, but in a way it could have been a silly conspiracy that went terribly wrong"

Watson ,appalled, almost choked as he savored his brandy.

"Are you telling me you think someone deliberately murdered all those unfortunate souls? That is impossible!"

"Improbable, Watson, however very possible. I don't think, however, that a disaster was intended in that case. I believe, though, the sinking was just an unfortunate miscalculation."

"You confuse me, Holmes."

"I understand that, Watson. Your mind is not used to the constant activity mine has been accustomed to over the years. Anyhow, I will continue with my theory."

"Please do."

"The ship's owners, American millionaire J.P. Morgan and Bruce Ismay wanted all the publicity the ship could get. The Olympic had already set the speed record for the Atlantic crossing. Titanic being a bit longer, it would be difficult to match that speed. Perhaps the chaps at White Star felt that the best publicity for their new ship would be to prove that she was indeed unsinkable. What better publicity would they have?

Think of it, Watson! Secretly put their new vessel in a condition in which any other would founder. Have her hit a berg, and reach its destination damaged, but saved! What a remarkable feat it would have been! An unsinkable ship, through and through, just as promised!"

"It is an interesting point of view, Holmes, but how could they take that risk with Smith's collaboration?"

"According to some survivors' accounts, Bruce Ismay, as the ship's owner, was constantly shifting from the position of mere passenger to commander. He was, some stated, constantly shouting orders, clearly going over Captain Smith's authority. As employee of White Star line, the late captain most possibly looked the other way when such things happened. Also, there are two other aspects that were ignored at the time which got me wondering."

"Does it get worse, Holmes? Honestly, my old friend, weren't the investigations both at home and in America deep enough?"

"Yes they were, Watson. However, both official inquiries' point was to find who was to blame for the terrible loss, goals objectives simply put and well achieved. What they did not consider was the possibility of a conspiracy."

TO BE CONTINUED...

richard e. schiff,
richard
e. schiff,
 richard e. schiff
Richard Schiff
 Richard Schiff
Richard Schiff ...

Recorded by
The Backhouse
Bluesers®
1988 at
Coyote Studios
Brooklyn NY