Murder on the Titanic

by Evelyn Weiss

English winter has returned, just as hopes of spring seemed be rising. No snow, and only a slight frost – but we are shrouded in an impenetrable blanket of lifeless fog. I feel the chill of the moist air as if it is seeping into my marrow, and wrap my shawl closer around me.

  Chisholm smiles at me. “So, Agnes, will you miss country life in Sussex for the next month?”

  “A little. But I do wonder…”

  “You mean, you wonder that my sister was happy to agree to my request that you assist our investigations. She will have to cope without your services for several weeks. Perhaps you worry that on your return, she may have decided that she doesn’t need you?”

  I’m surprised by Chisholm’s frankness. The topic is new to Axelson, who says

  “Miss Agnes, you need not fear. I believe if you have to change employment, your abilities are such that it may be an advancement. Besides, two years ago you were bold enough to apply for employment on the other side of the Atlantic. That bravery will serve you well again.” His words are kindly meant, but of course he has no idea of the difficulties that face a lone woman seeking to make her own way in the world. He changes the subject.

  “Chisholm, thank you for booking our tickets to New York on the RMS Olympic. I hope that you and Miss Agnes are looking forward to a voyage that will undoubtedly be as safe as – travelling by train, for example.”

  Chisholm smiles. “Well, it’s good to know that the Titanic’s sister ship has been fully refitted. I think we’re all glad to hear of the installation of additional lifeboats.”

  “I think a lot has been learnt from the tragedy. We will be able to relax and enjoy the voyage. But in fact, the voyage on the Olympic will itself be invaluable for our investigations. Because I now have confirmation of the rumors that I had heard. I now know that both Gilmour and du Pavey will also be travelling to New York on the Olympic.”

  I look across at the professor. “Those names sound familiar… can you explain, Professor?”

  “I have not had the opportunity until now, Miss Agnes, to update you on the progress of my enquiries. Since Miss Kitty’s kidnapping, I have been looking into other aspects of the case, assembling facts. And now – I have a list.”

  “A list of what?”

  “Names. Names of people who were aboard the Titanic. After that fateful night, it is as if they are –” the professor gestures with his hands.

  Chisholm smiles. “Scattered to the four winds, is what Axelson means.”

  “Who are these people, Professor?”

  Even though we have a compartment to ourselves, the professor leans across towards me and lowers his voice. His gray eyes look directly into mine. “In total confidence I tell you, Miss Agnes. In addition to Miss Kitty, five people hold the key to understanding Percy Spence’s death. And I am absolutely certain that one of those five is the murderer.”

  “You can tell Agnes, Axelson. I’d trust her with my life.”

  I hear the assurance and conviction in Chisholm’s voice. As the train rattles on through the fog, Professor Axelson clears his throat, as if readying himself for the importance of what he is about to say.

  “First on my list is Calvin Gilmour, the American industrialist. One of the world’s richest men. He was aboard the Titanic, and his was the cabin next door to Viscount Spence’s, on the other side from yours. And, he and his wife were in the same lifeboat as Miss Kitty and the dying Viscount Spence.”

  I breathe sharply. That’s why I’ve heard of the name Gilmour: Calvin Gilmour of New York is a household name. For his legendary wealth, and even more for his patronage of education and the arts. I look at the professor.

  “The philanthropist? He’s known as one of the most forward-thinking men in America. And he’s a byword for generosity. You think he might be a murderer?”

  “Gilmour is indeed, as you say, a generous patron of good causes. But he is also a man. And men are prone to jealousy. Especially when a gentleman as notorious as Viscount Spence pays attentions to his wife. Gwyneth Gilmour and Percy Spence had been seen together, in London and, especially, on the voyage of the Titanic.”

  The professor has touched on a subject that I’m interested in: society gossip is one of my guilty pleasures. The train’s whistle blows as it rattles along, but I raise my voice over the top of it. “But Professor, perhaps we can’t conclude too much from gossip about Spence and Gwyneth Gilmour being seen together. I understand, from reading the society papers, that Percy Spence had been seen in the company of many different ladies. Every edition of The High Life used to carry a new story and a new photograph of him.”

  “Sir Chisholm and I are both men of the world, Miss Agnes. We both understand something that you may not. When a man has a reputation for meeting many ladies – then as a husband, to find that same man paying particular attention to your own wife – it tends to worry your suspicions, rather than soothe them.”

  “But – to go as far as murder?”

  “Before her marriage to Calvin, Gwyneth Ogilvie, as she was then, was beset with suitors. That’s not surprising – she is known as one of the beauties of American society, and heiress of the richest family in Virginia. Seemingly in defiance of her family traditions, she reached the age of thirty without close involvement with any man. Some said she would never marry. Then out of the blue, she marries a man twenty years her senior, fabulously rich but with humble origins. Calvin Gilmour is a self-made man. His business expansion was not only spectacular: it was ruthless. Despite his reputation for generosity and progressive thinking, I believe he could be ruthless again.”

  “So, if Gilmour had motive, how would he have gone about poisoning Spence? If Kitty’s description is to be believed, it sounds like Spence’s wine was poisoned. Did Gilmour bribe a cabin steward to spike Spence’s wine?”

  Chisholm glances across the compartment at the professor. “The layout of the cabins, Axelson…”

  “Indeed, Chisholm. You see, Miss Agnes, some of the first-class Parlor cabins on the Titanic were linked by interconnecting doors. That allows families who can afford it, and who need the space, to occupy two adjoining cabins and make them into larger suite of rooms. Spence’s cabin was linked by one such interconnecting door – not to your cabin, Miss Agnes, but to the Gilmours’.”

  “So are you saying that Gilmour had access to Spence’s room?”

  “In normal circumstances, there would be no access. Any interconnecting doors which were not in use would have been locked by the Titanic’s staff for the duration of the voyage. But of course, it is possible that Gilmour could have bribed a cabin steward to lend him the key.”

  “But Professor – if Gilmour could have bribed a cabin steward to give him the key, he could equally have bribed a wine waiter to put something in Spence’s wine.”

  “Yes, I guess that is so. In either event, we will never find out. Most of the Titanic’s cabin staff are dead.”

  “But what I’m saying is this, Professor Axelson: any one of hundreds of passengers could have bribed a wine waiter, regardless of whether or not that passenger’s cabin was near to Spence’s.”

  “Yes. That’s logical.”

  “So in itself, Professor, the interconnecting door between the Gilmours’ cabin and Spence’s doesn’t prove anything.”

  “A good point, Miss Agnes. I see you are thinking carefully about the evidence: well done. But despite what you say, I still feel that, for Calvin Gilmour, the motive, means and opportunity for murder were all within his grasp. He remains on my list of suspects. Even if he is innocent, questioning him is one of my priorities, because he was in the same lifeboat as Spence and Miss Kitty. My Hypnotic-Forensic Method will enable Calvin Gilmour to relive that experience, and give us a detailed account of Spence’s final moments alive.”

  The whistle blows again, and I feel the train slowing into a station. Twilight is advancing into night: a single lamp illuminates the words ‘Bishop’s Stortford’ on the station sign as the train draws to a halt. Outside our compartment
window, station buildings loom like dim shadows in the fog, but when I look out onto the platform, I see no-one getting off the train, no-one getting on it. I turn back to the professor.

  “So – who else is on your list, Professor Axelson?”

  “Another survivor of the Titanic is a woman who was travelling under the name Maria Jones, but we believe that her real name is Colette Morgan.”

  As the train starts to move again, Chisholm raises his brows, looks sharply at the professor. “I thought – you were not going to mention her? Of the names on your list, I thought you had said to me that hers would be unspoken.”

  “You misunderstood me, Chisholm. Yes, I said that one name would be unspoken – but not that that name was Colette Morgan. I will indeed tell Miss Agnes, and you, only four of the names on my list.”

  Chisholm looks puzzled, but the professor continues. “The fifth name is known only to me – until a time when it is safe to reveal it. Now Chisholm, regarding the name of Colette Morgan – do you or do you not trust Miss Agnes?”

  “I trust her. But I also trusted you, Axelson.”

  “And you will continue to do so, Chisholm. You know that I can read any character like an open book. I have now seen Miss Agnes on three occasions – twice at your home, and today. But I am completely confident in my diagnosis of her moral character.”

  I’m trying not to laugh at the professor’s pompous