Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) (16 page)

"
Criminals aren’t usually as smart as they believe themselves to be,
"
laughed Callum. Still, she had a point. One that had crossed Callum’s mind as well. Percy said the claim had turned up while Lloyd’s was moving offices.

"
It’s an unlikely coincidence, if you ask me,
"
huffed Mrs. Hoffman. Callum nodded, though there was something odd that he couldn’t put his finger on. He flipped through his notes,
"
Another of Mrs. Gilcrest’s servants was also aboard the
Titanic
. Did you know Alice Cleaver?
"

Beep-beep-beep.

Callum’s pager startled the old woman. He pulled it out and held it up for her to see. It was out of place in their current antiquated surroundings.
"
May I use your phone for a moment?
"

She nodded and gestured to the phone on the nearby table. Even the telephone was an old fashioned Art Deco-style rotary phone with marble accents. He dialed the number.
"
Callum Toughill. Passcode…
"
Callum looked over at the old lady taking a breath from her oxygen mask.
"
Five-Zero-Five.
"

The operator for the pager company read a message to him,
"
From Ruthie McArthur: Information for you. Message from your grandfather. Come at once.
"

"
From my grandfather?
"
Callum repeated into the phone receiver. Was his only living witness going bonkers?
"
Did Ruthie McArthur leave a contact number?
"

"
No she did not,
"
replied the operator.

"
Were there any other messages?
"
asked Callum. He had a very uneasy feeling about this call.

"
No new ones, but Ruthie McArthur rang several times to see if you had received her message.
"

Callum looked at his wristwatch. He didn’t know when the next flight to Glasgow would be — he would have to catch a cab to Heathrow and make travel plans from there.
"
Thanks, if she rings me again, get her number.
"

Callum hung up the phone and turned to Mrs. Hoffman as he gathered his notepad and stuffed it into his satchel case,
"
Thank you for your time. I have to go.
"

"
Nothing serious I hope?
"
asked Mrs. Hoffman.

"
I don’t think it is,
"
Callum said nonchalantly, more to reassure himself, but he had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. What did she mean, ‘a message from his grandfather’? Callum’s grandfather had been dead for fifteen years.

Chapter
XVIII

"
Edward are you sure you’re up to this?
"
asked Roger Zisholm, Edward’s longtime personal attorney.
"
You should have let the hospital keep you for observation.
"

"
I’ve had worse falls in my life,
"
grumbled Edward as he pulled his jacket closer and stomped his feet to get the blood flowing. He felt very cold as he sat in Roger’s law office. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get warm. He assumed that the building kept the heat low over the weekend but it wasn’t uncommon for his lawyer to be in his office on a Saturday. It was also possible that it was Roger’s sterile, chromed furniture that gave the illusion of razor-edged strength, but lacked any warmth. The only specks of color were from the spines of the books on the nearby shelf.

Roger pressed the intercom button next to his phone and called out to his secretary,
"
Can you send the officer in?
"

"
Yes, sir,
"
cackled the voice under static.

A young man in British Naval uniform entered the room sharply. Edward recognized from the crest on the white cap that this was an officer in the Ministry of Defence. He was impressed by the smart newer uniforms and realized he had been away from his Naval friends for a very long time. In his day, Edward had served with men from the Naval Intelligence Division, which was since absorbed into the Ministry of Defence. He felt suddenly old and out of touch.

"
Good morning,
"
said the young officer as he briskly shook the hands of the two men. Edward recalled that Roger had once served in the Navy Judge Advocate General's Corps, and seemed to still have connections there.

"
’Morning,
"
boomed Roger.
"
Would you tell Mr. Hoffman what you told me?
"

The young officer nodded politely, placed his briefcase on the desk and snapped it open. Addressing Edward, he said:
"
Before Captain Sadle
r left for the Falkland Islands,
he asked us to assist in the investigation of the woman found on April first.
"

From the briefcase he produced a green folder, from which he pulled a photo of a wooden deck chair. Edward knew the origin
of the photo at first glance. I
t was one of the chairs from A-Deck of the
Titanic
. The White Star Line logo was indeed etched into the headboard, as it should be.

"
The woman in question was found clinging to this chair.
"

Edward looked up from the picture. He knew that other survivors back in 1912 had been found afloat on these chairs, though not many.

The officer continued,
"
We were able to determine that the paint on it was not seventy years old, though the lead levels in the paint are high.
"

He handed Edward the typed report for him to read. Roger asked,
"
What else you got?
"

The o
fficer reached into his briefcase,
"
Secondly
,
we found this contract ticket in the book.
"

The moment he pulled it out, Edward knew it instantly. He turned the contract ticket over
. B
eneath the words:
'United States Immigration Act in Effect April 1, 1831'
, the names of the passengers should have been listed. Unfortunately, the ink had run from water damage, making the handwriting difficult to read.
How convenient,
Edward thought to himself.

"
I have seen other contract tickets from
Titanic
survivors,
"
remarked Edward as he continued to inspect it. He wished he still had his boarding pass, but it went down with the ship. Now he was holding a perfect replica. Flawless. Except.
..

"
Those I have seen in the past are well preserved, but none were in as excellent condition as this one is. Time has not left its familiar amber mark on this one.
"

"
Tests indicate that the ink is fairly fresh,
"
continued the man.
"
It’s certainly nowhere near 70 years old.
"

"
Hardly a surprise,
"
interjected Roger.

The o
fficer ignored the interruption,
"
However, the paper stock doesn’t have any watermark or date fibers, which are usually inserted into paper productions these days. Another interesting fact is that the ink used was manufactured in the style of the early 1900’s as it does not have any of the present day quick-drying chemicals.
"

"
What does that prove?
"
asked Roger.

"
Someone has gone to great lengths to make us believe she’s real,
"
replied the officer.

"
I can’t imagine why,
"
Roger blurted.
"
None of us are fooled.
"

Edward shrugged then looked up at the officer as he indicated to the reports on hand,
"
Can we make a copy of these?
"

"
Certainly,
"
replied the officer as Roger
buzzed his secretary.

"
Was there anything else?
"
asked Edward. The secretary chose that moment to enter, interrupting the conversation.

"
Make a copy of this for him,
"
Roger barked to his secretary, who nodded as she took the papers and left without a word.

"
Aside from that which you’ve seen,
"
replied the officer,
"
t
he only other thing in her possession was a teddy bear.
"

"
A teddy bear?
"
wondered Roger.
"
What teddy bear?
"

"
She was found clutching a teddy bear. I think it may have been returned to her.
"

Edward shivered involuntarily at the mention of teddy bear.
Someone has just walked over my grave,
thought Edward. He tried to focus back to his initial meeting with Dr. Natalie Lindsay. There was no mention of a teddy bear. Something so out of the ordinary would have been brought up. Teddy bear. The notion of it was giving him an odd foreboding sensation that he was unable to explain, as if he knew there had been a teddy bear, but that was completely absurd. Still…

"
Edward?
"
Roger’s voice was so loud that it derailed his train of thought. Edward glanced up and saw that Roger’s secretary had returned with the photocopies. She and the two men were looking at him with concern. He seemed to have let his mind wander so far that he wondered if he had said anything aloud.

"
Forgive me,
"
Edward murmured as he shifted in his chair.
"
This has all been very overwhelming and disconcerting.
"

The man in uniform placed the original documents in the folder, straightened, and said plainly,
"
I understand. Is there anything else?
"

"
Not from me,
"
sighed Edward.
"
I would say thank Captain… Sadler was it… for his time and attention.
"

"
I would, sir,
"
replied the officer, as he closed his briefcase.
"
But we are on different details, and he has his hands full with the Argentines.
"

"
Right. The war.
"

"
Thanks for your time,
"
said Roger as he opened the door for the officer.

"
Good day,
"
snapped the officer as he turned and left.

As the door closed, Edward sighed.
"
You know for a moment last night, I almost believed her.
"

Edward was annoyed at himself for having given it a second of credence. He must have looked like a fool. His trick of recreating the last meal on the
Titanic
had worked to expose
Loraine
Kramer all those years ago, but somehow this woman had known about it and turned the tables on him. Of course, Edward thought to himself. He had unwittingly set himself up. The music, the food… it took him back to that fateful night in 1912. How could it not strike an emotional chord with him? And when he was most vulnerable, that’s when she’d struck.

"
Naturally you almost believed her,
"
Roger repeated as he sat down.
"
Which is why I think you should press charges. That woman is a con artist, and she would stop at nothing to take advantage of a kind old man.
"

Edward felt very old indeed. More so now that he had to use a cane to get out of the chair, thanks to his tumble down the stairs. The phone rang as Edward gathered up his copies of the papers and put them into his jacket pocket.

"
Yes. He’s here,
"
Roger said into the phone.
"
Thank you. I’ll pass that along.
"

Roger hung up the phone and looked at his friend.

"
What?
"
Edward asked.