Deck Z - The Titanic Read Online Free PDF Page B

violent overhand blows to the dying man’s chest, splintering his rib cage and puncturing both lungs. Reaching into Jadovsky’s top coat, the Agent found a leather wallet containing a first-class
Titanic
ticket, a passport, and a small fortune in Russian currency.
    Pocketing the credentials and ticket, he threw the money over the side of the train. Then he tucked the empty wallet back inside Jadovsky’s coat, which he used to clean the pliers’ silver prongs until they gleamed in the moonlight. The Agent carefully replaced the tool in his tweed jacket and lit another Sobranie. As he exhaled, he put a boot to the Russian’s chest and kicked him hard over the railing into the darkness.

6

    NEAR THE WATERFRONT. SOUTHAMPTON, ENGLAND .
    WEDNESDAY, APRIL 10, 1912. 9:40 A.M .
    Weiss stumbled. His new cane and the broken cobbled streets of Southampton were not getting along. He was taking a circuitous route to the docks and watching for signs of being followed, but he’d seen nothing so far. He silently chastised himself for not adopting a better disguise than a set of ill-fitting traveling clothes and a three-day-old beard.
    He rounded a corner and caught his first glimpse of the stacks. Four immense funnels loomed above the tops of the shipping offices and shops, casting shadows that stretched a good city block, like elongated fingers beckoning Southampton to explore the colossus lurking in her waters. Weiss picked up his pace. If these were the smokestacks, how big must the ship be?
    Two blocks later, Weiss arrived before Dock Gate 4, Berth 34. He was thunderstruck by the sight of the mighty
Titanic
in its totality. It was as long as fifty automobiles and eight or nine stories high, which only took into account what bobbed above the waterline. Weiss had read a newspaper story that described the vessel’s “nightmarish scale.” Seeing it in person, he agreed:
Titanic
was truly a monster!
    Weiss suddenly felt very small. He craned his neck up, stepping backward to fit
Titanic
into his field of vision.
Is this how the ant feels,
he wondered,
when faced with the enormity of a human?
He drew four breaths in the time it took his eyes to travel the length of the ship from pointed bow to massive stern. And what did God make of this creation of man?
    Weiss pulled himself back into the present moment. He was no tourist. Anxiously, Weiss reached into the valise to again confirm the presence of his White Star boarding pass, the most important purchase he’d made during his short stay in Southampton. If he’d acquired a ticket by regular means, it would have been easy to trace his flight from Germany. He knew the ruse of his escape would not survive close scrutiny; the Kaiser’s men were most likely calling at every port and transportation agent in Germany. But even if they discovered his first voyage to Southampton, there would be no paper trail of his second. The previous night, he had traversed the city asking about a
Titanic
berth for sale, till luck finally shined on him in a bawdy neighborhood pub. He’d procured a “Third Class (Steerage) Passenger’s Contract Ticket” from a drunken fellow, who slurred, “I’m not going anywhere now! I’ve fallen in love, I have!” Weiss happily relieved Gregory P. Nosworthy of the burden of his ticket for seven pounds and a few pints of ale. He suspected a sober Nosworthy might be regretting his decision this very morning.
    Weiss’s second acquisition was his new wooden walking stick. Purchased in a filthy Southampton pawn shop not long after his transaction with Mr. Nosworthy, the cane was not what Weiss originally had in mind. He’d entered looking for a replacement pistol, one easily concealed inside a jacket. The shop’s proprietor, Mr. Charles Lockerbie, was a gnarled old fellow in half-moon glasses working his way through a sorry apple.
    “I need a gun,” said Weiss upon entering.
    “Hello to you,” said Lockerbie and spit. “I’m fine and thank ye for