Depth of Deception (A Titanic Murder Mystery) (12 page)

Callum had spent a better part of the morning feeding that machine in the bowels of the monolithic Mitchell Library. From the outside, the building looked like an imperial palace. Opened the year before
Titanic
had set sail, it had been expanded and renovated several times over the decades, now making it the largest resource library in the United Kingdom.

"
How can anyone find anything in this massive building?
"
Callum had wondered aloud upon his arrival.

"
Eventually computers will help index and store information,
"
smiled the nearby clerk, her accent laced with a Northern Scottish lilt. "I'm experimenting with my BBC Micro at home."

It had been a rhetorical question but he supposed it was an occupational necessity for her to respond to any question regardless of how pointless.
Computers, ha! That’ll be the day,
Callum thought to himself. Science fiction was once again a hot topic ever since that ‘Star Wars’ film came out a few years ago. Some colourful home computers were coming on the market but no one, except this clerk, seemed to be buying any except for their kids to play games. He had seen computers that could store small amounts of information. They were massive. They would need several extra buildings just to house those monsters. He glanced at his watch to check the time. Noticing the calculator on it, he imagined ten years ago this too would have been considered science fiction. He reconsidered the clerk's opinion and shrugged,
Who knows?

Some hours later, Callum reached for the stack of articles he had printed and began to collate them as he tried to piece together what had happened. It was tedious but since most of the eyewitnesses were dead by now, it was the only way. Taking his red pen he underlined key points for reference later.

The way Callum could see it, on the cold morning of 21st of January 1909, laborers had made a gruesome discovery while laying plates on the North London Railway. Lying several yards from the railway tracks were the remains of a small baby boy. The foreman had told the press that he hoped it was a horrible accident, but as no-one had reported a child missing, the police treated the scene as suspicious from the start. Considering how far from the tracks the body of the infant had been, and where the impact on his tiny body was, the physician determined that the baby had been thrown violently from the train the night before.

Police began an extensive search of recent birth records in the area, while calling upon witnesses who may have seen a baby carried onto the train on the eve of January 20th. A few weeks later, police arrested Alice Cleaver for the murder of her own child.

Reading through the trial coverage, Callum surmised that Alice Cleaver had had a sad existence: she herself was the illegitimate daughter of an illegitimate daughter. There seemed to be no father figures in her family for a few generations. Alice Cleaver was unwed and distraught over the fact that the baby's father had abandoned her. Although not uncommon in today’s world, back in 1909 being an unwed mother was like having the plague: such a girl was shunned and even ostracized by the general public. Alice Cleaver maintained her innocence throughout her
arrest and trial
. She claimed to have placed the baby in the care of a Mrs. Gray who ran an orphanage in Kilburn. Police tried to verify her story, but discovered that there was no such person or place.

The defense put forth a claim that Alice Cleaver was suffering some sort of depression from being abandoned by the man she thought loved her, just as men had abandoned her mother and her mother’s mother.

Callum slumped back in his chair, remembering another case he had investigated five years ago. Weeks after giving birth, a well-to-do woman went crazy and took a knife to her husband’s priceless artwork, and then drove herself and the baby into the family swimming pool in her husband’s Jaguar. Both the baby and mother survived. Callum had been sent to investigate to see if it had been some sort of stunt to get the insurance money. He even spoke to a psychiatrist who insisted that the term ‘baby blues’ was an understatement. He stated an ‘atypical postnatal depression’ affected ten percent of women to varying degrees after delivery, and it was enough of a concern among the medical community to warrant further study. Callum believed the doctor, yet it perturbed him that the husband in question seemed more upset about his artwork than the condition of his wife and child.

Back in 1909, psychology was still a new science and not well accepted or understood. It was unlikely that the jury of Alice Cleaver's peers would have been forgiving.

As Callum flipped through the pages, he realized he didn’t have a printout pertaining to the end of the trial or the verdict.

Upon turning back to the microfilm, he was taken aback by the following 1912 headline from an American newspaper:
Alice Cleaver Saves Child from Titanic Sinking!

There was a blurry photo beneath the headline of a woman holding a small boy from first class. It was a far cry from the headlines printed three years earlier. The story went on to describe her heroism in the face of the disaster and how she kept a tight hold of the boy until both were safe in New York.

Unfortunately, in the following days the media turned on her once again. The truth began to emerge that she had been hired as a nurse by Hudson Allison, a wealthy investment broker from Montreal, and she was charged with looking after
his two children: Trevor and Lo
raine. When the famous ship began to sink, Allison took the boy to the deck and was ushered into a lifeboat. The rest of the family did not know what had become of their son and refused to leave the ship w
ithout him. The little girl, Lo
rain
e, was the only child in First C
lass to perish.

Back to
Titanic
, Callum thought. He perused through the other pages hoping for a mention of the Gilcrest murder or the brooch.

"
You were looking for articles on
Titanic
or Alice Cleaver?
"
The hushed voice yanked Callum back from 1912 into the present. He looked up to see the helpful clerk standing over him, holding a recent issue of a tabloid magazine.
"
There was also this article relating to the
Titanic
, since you made a comment about it.
"

"
Thank you,
"
replied Callum. He looked at the tabloid about a woman found in the North Atlantic in the same location where
Titanic
sank seventy years ago.
Bollocks,
thought Callum. He skeptically skimmed through the article, but looked at the picture of the lovely woman for a long moment. He had seen her face recently.
Likely some advert or on the Telly.
She had a movie star look to her. He shook his head as he reread the headline. The idea that she was somehow preserved alive in the freezing waters was sheer nonsense, perhaps some sort of publicity stunt or ‘Candid Camera’ style prank.

"
Sorry, I couldn’t help showing you that one,
"
smirked the clerk. She then held up her other hand, which was holding a magazine.
"
However, I’m sure this article would be of more of interest to you. And far more recent than 1912.
"

Callum glanced at the page the clerk was holding open for him. He stood up with such excitement that his chair crashed backwards, shattering the sacred silence of the library. Ignoring the angry glares being hurled at him, he snatched the magazine from the clerk’s hand and looked at the published date. It was indeed recent. Callum looked at his digital watch. He hoped he wasn’t too late.

Chapter
XV

"
Will this other doctor be able to help me get my memory back?
"
asked Myra, wrapping the shawl around herself as Natalie escorted her from the room.

"
I hope so. I also hope that you’ll feel comfortable talking to him and answering any of his questions,
"
Natalie replied as they headed to one of the lounges that had been booked for this occasion. As they drew near, Natalie was thrilled to hear music emanating from the room.

"
Oh, how marvelous,
"
exclaimed Myra.
"
Ragtime music!
"

Natalie hardly recognized Ralph, one of the orderlies, dressed in a tuxedo. The doctor smiled,
"
You clean up really nicely, Ralph!
"

Edward Hoffman seemed to be sparing no detail. With a small flourish, Ralph opened the door for the two women.

Inside the lounge, a small eight-piece band made up mostly of string instruments as well as the Clinic’s piano, played jauntily. Natalie saw the familiar form of Edward Hoffman, who was lighting the candles on the table. Edward turned to meet them.

"
Hello I’m….
"
He stopped suddenly and stared at Myra. The smile disappeared so quickly it was almost as if he had seen a ghost. Clearing his throat, he stammered,
"
Have we met before?
"

"
I don’t believe so,
"
Myra replied.
"
Although, there is something in your eyes that seems… familiar. Perhaps we have met someplace. I really cannot remember. I was hoping you might be able to help.
"

Natalie noted that for the first time since arriving here, Myra didn’t seem to be shivering any more.

"
Let’s see what we can learn here first,
"
Edward smiled.
"
Forgive me for staring. If I may be so bold, you have the most remarkable blue eyes I have ever seen.
"

"
Thank you, Doctor…er…
"
smiled Myra.

"
Please no titles here, please call me Edward.
"

"
Very well... Edward.
"
Myra replied, but his name seemed to drop off into a whisper. Natalie noticed an odd distant look in her eyes. Edward turned to Natalie expectantly, eyebrows raised.

"
Oh, yes,
"
said Natalie as she remembered her role in this scenario.
"
Edward, may I introduce: Myra.
"

Edward gently took Myra’s hand and graciously kissed the back of it. Edward paused, then smiled.
"
What a coincidence. That’s my mother’s name.
"

"
A noble woman, I hope.
"

Edward smiled again as he pulled the chairs out for both ladies and once they were both seated, he sat across from them.

"
We’ll be starting with Oysters à la Russe,
"
Edward said to Myra.
"
Would you like White Bordeaux, White Burgundy or Chablis?
"

"
You’re asking me?
"
Myra asked in a shocked tone.

"
Is there something wrong with that?
"
asked Dr. Lindsay.

"
It is not customary that a man would ask a woman to order.
"

"
Ah, but you are the guest,
"
replied Edward.

"
Very well then. Chablis would be the best choice with oysters,
"
replied Myra as she spread the cloth napkin across her lap. Natalie clumsily copied her.

E
dward seemed suitably impressed.
H
e nodded to the caterer standing nearby who looked to his assistant and proceeded to place the food in front of the ladies first.

Myra grimaced, then smiled
"
This was served the other night.
"

"
Other night?
"
asked Dr. Lindsay.

"
On board the
Titanic
,
"
beamed Myra.
"
I remembered that.
"

"
Excellent,
"
smiled Edward.
"
I wanted you to feel comfortable. So I spared no expense in recreating the meal exactly as it was on board the …
Titanic
.
"
Edward then picked up his glass and held it to toast,
"
To recovering your memory.
"

"
I’ll drink to that,
"
said Dr. Lindsay.

Edward savored the drink for a moment then turned to Myra. He waited for her to finish with the oyster she had consumed, then asked,
"
What do you remember about
Titanic
?
"