Book VII Read online

  “Well,” said Bill, as he crushed the finished cigar in the ashtray, “no time like the present. Shall we take Samson for a walk?”

  Five minutes later, John stood three cabins to the left of Rocky as he worked on the cabin’s door and Bill strolled slowly with Samson covering the right side. No one else strolled the deck and Bill smiled as he heard the click of a door opening.

  Rocky walked over and held Samson as Bill entered the cabin. He went to the bag of dog food, picked it up and crossed the floor to the door. In the moonlight he spotted the red, leather notebook on the writing desk. He picked it up then put it back down, took two steps toward the door, stopped and went back to the desk. Picking the book up again Bill thought, Wonder if Thomas wrote anything that might put some light on his actions? He stuffed the book in his pocket and stepped towards the door when it slammed into him knocking the time traveler down. He quickly sat up as Rocky and John appeared at the now open door.

  John grabbed his hand and helped him up. “What happened, Bill?”

  “Oh man, that door slammed shut on my head.”

  Rocky held back the straining Samson who scented the food. “Slammed shut? How? The ship didn’t rock or anything? Sure you didn’t run into it?”

  Bill just shrugged his shoulders and closed the door behind him. “Next time we wake the captain up.” Both John and Rocky smiled in the dark.

  Samson’s low growl woke Bill from his sleep. The dog sat on the bed and in the moonlight Bill saw that he faced the cabin door. Listening, Bill heard the knob being tried. He quietly got out of bed and Samson followed, still giving off a low growl. Bill swung open the door just enough to ensure that the dog couldn’t run out and was greeted by moonlight and breeze. He looked to the left and right, but there was no one around. He relocked the door and went back to bed. He was asleep before Samson who seemed to be listening to the night.

  Over breakfast, Bill related the story of the jiggling doorknob to his fellow time travelers. Both agreed that there was a slight swell last night and the doorknob probably wiggled with the movement.

  As coffee was served Bill retrieved the red, leather notebook from his jacket pocket and said, “On another topic I took the liberty of removing Thomas’s notebook. I wanted to see if it sheds any light on him jumping overboard.”

  “And,” asked John, “did it?”

  “No. Just lots of notations about light refraction and color waves. Stuff that Thomas said would mean nothing to the average person, . . . and he was right!”

  “So,” asked Rocky as he fingered his stickpin, “are we going to do another moonlight door opening to put it back?”

  “No way!” said Bill as he rubbed his still aching nose. “We dock in two days and we promised the captain to deliver his letter so we’ll just drop this off too.” Bill checked his watch and said, “Well, Samson will want to go for his walk, anyone feel like strolling?

  The three men walked Samson and when he seemed satisfied, Bill proposed they shoot some billiards.

  John queried, “Will they allow Samson into the saloon?”

  “Naw,” answered Bill as he watched the Beagle give a big yawn, “I think he’s trying to tell us that it’s time for his mid-morning nap. I’ll bring him back to the room. You guys go ahead and I’ll meet you there.” Rocky and John went towards the saloon as bill led Samson back to his cabin.

  As he got to the cabin a cleaning lady was exiting the room fast, her arms loaded with sheets and towels. Bill smiled and nodded.

  “Good morning, may I go in?”

  Bill suddenly realized that the woman had a look of fright on her face and blessed herself as she left the room.

  “Are you all right, miss?”

  She shook her head and asked, “I beg your pardon, sir, is this your cabin?”

  At Bill’s nod, she went on as she looked back over her shoulder into the sun-drenched cabin, “You should change cabins, sir. This one is haunted. I heard a voice and the cabin was empty. I changed the sheets and turned around to dust, and the sheets were pulled off the bed. I have seen such things happen in my village in Turkey. You must leave this cabin.”

  She was doing a fast trot away from Bill’s cabin as he entered, shrugging his shoulders. Samson entered slowly his head up as he sniffed the air.

  “Don’t tell me you’re seeing ghosts too, pal,” Bill said as he unleashed the dog’s leash. “Come on, Samson, let’s get you settled down in your cage.” Samson obediently let Bill place him in his cage and close the gate behind him.

  “Well,” said Bill as he dropped the leash on his now redone bed, “guess the ghost has gone home. “See you for dinner, Samson. Sleep tight.”

  The three time travelers quietly laughed at the superstitions of the era and ended up the last night of their trip eating dinner with seven other passengers at the Captain’s table. It was a lavish dinner with champagne flowing freely. The conversation was light and cheerful, never once touching on the subject of Griffin’s death.

  After dinner, Captain Loiacono guided Bill to a corner and spoke in a quiet tone that let Bill know he was now speaking off the record.

  “Another trip ends for me, Mister Scott, and I’m sure it will be a memorable one for both of us.”

  Bill nodded in agreement and was about to answer him when the captain raised a cautionary finger and said, “Mister Scot, I must tell you something that I’m not supposed to tell any passengers. Since the unfortunate act that Mister Griffin committed, there have been some strange things happening aboard my ship. I caution you because perhaps the end of the voyage will not be the end of your entanglement.”

  “What sort of things happened?”

  “For one, none of the cleaning women will go into your or Mister Griffin’s cabins. They feel as though there is an entity present. Also, my men have noticed scrape marks on Mister Griffin’s cabin door as though someone was trying to break in.” The captain looked solemn as he gazed out to the open ocean and continued in a low tone, “Another puzzle was that meals delivered and left outside some of the cabin doors were taken and the plates and utensils found later in out of the way places as though there were stowaways aboard.”

  “Could there be stowaways aboard?” asked a puzzled Bill as he joined the captain at the rail.

  “No, we’ve quietly searched every millimeter of the ship including the few empty cabins and found nothing. Very strange.”

  “So,” asked Bill, “Why do you think I may be entangled?”

  “I have no idea why I think that, I just do. And as you and your friends have been involved with Mister Griffin and have graciously agreed to speak to his family I feel I must let you in on the strange things that happened since his departure. Just a precaution, that’s all, my friend.”

  Bill nodded and said, “Thank you very much, Captain Loiacono. I’ll advise my two traveling companions to be alert.” He looked at his watch and added, “Now, I’m afraid I must walk Mister Griffin’s dog.”

  The captain nodded and retrieved an envelope from his inside jacket pocket. Handing it to Bill he said, “This is a letter I wrote to Mr. Griffin’s family telling them how sorry I am for their loss and that his belongings are being sent to them. His address is on the envelope’s face and I thank you again for being so kind as to deliver it for me.”

  Bill and captain Loiacono shook hands.

  Bill briefed John and Rocky as they walked Samson and they agreed to keep an open eye for any strange things happening.

  That night Samson’s low growl and the doorknob being tried once again woke Bill up. He silently walked to the door and loosely felt the knob turn in his hand. In one sudden swoop, he turned the knob and pulled the door open only to reveal the starry night. Blocking the door so that Samson couldn’t get out, Bill looked both ways and saw only the empty walkway.

  “This is weird,” he mumbled to himself as he locked the door and returned to his bed. Samson sat vigilant until sunrise.

  Over breakfast, Bill told his companions of hi
s restless night.

  “As you said, Bill, this is weird,” quipped John as he dabbed his toast into his egg yolk. “Are you sure there was someone trying your door?”

  “Absolutely! Samson heard it too and did the same low growl as the night before. But, as I said, when I opened the door the deck was clear and there was no way someone could have tried my door and ran by the time I opened it.” He shook his head and said again, “It’s really weird.”

  “Well,” added Rocky, “The captain said there was some funny stuff going on aboard this trip, so, who knows what it could be. I’m sorta glad this part of the trip is over.”

  Both Bill and John nodded in agreement.

  Well guys,” Bill said, “after breakfast I suggest we walk Samson and get ready to disembark.”

  The three time travelers finished their coffees and strolled the deck with the Beagle.

  The ship docked at 11:15 a.m. and Bill, John and Rocky walked down the covered gangway with Samson leading the way at the end of his leash. Once on the damp cobblestones of the wharf they put down their valises and took in the scene before them.

  People were waving and calling to friends and relatives as food vendors shouted of their wares. The air smelled of fried food, roasting chestnuts, fish and stagnant water. Passengers were dragging luggage behind them and leaving trails in the damp stones as cabbies called for possible fares. There were a few Policemen around watching for pickpockets and making sure that the cabbies didn’t get too close to the crowd of people.

  Bill tipped his head towards a well-dressed man of about fifty years of age who seemed to be looking for someone.

  “Follow me, boys,” he said as he walked over to the man and tipped his hat. “Excuse me, sir, but my friends and I are looking for a local hotel for the evening. Would you know of such a place?”

  The man curled his upswept gray mustache as he furrowed his thick eyebrows and answered, “Yes, sir, I do know of such a place. I suggest gentlemen such as you three should stay away from the lesser hotels closer to the wharves and the Waverly Hotel will accept your Beagle. It’s located on Dover Street just about six streets up Willoughby Street.” He pointed the way as he went on, “Tell me, sir, does your Beagle enjoy the hunt?”

  Bill shrugged his shoulders. “I truly can’t answer that as I’ve just, er, purchased him.”

  The man seemed pleased as he scratched behind Samson’s ears, “Fine looking Beagle. Damn fine looking and I’d place a Pound on him being a good hunter for the Fox.”

  “Could, be, sir, just could be,” said Bill as he tipped his hat again, “I thank you for your pointing out the hotel and bid you good day.”

  “Quite all right, sir. Enjoy your stay in England and take good care of your Beagle.”

  The Englishman was right and the Waverly Hotel’s staff all stopped their chores to pet the Beagle. “Looks like the Beagle is the pet of England,” Bill said to John and Rocky as they signed in. The three time travelers and Samson went up to the second floor to their respective rooms.

  Bill inserted the long key into the lock and said as his companions did the same, “See you guys in about twenty minutes?”

  “Good here,” answered John as Rocky nodded in agreement.

  Sunlight flooded the room as Bill entered and took the leash off the Beagle. Samson immediately sniffed the entire room before settling on the bed. Knowing they were leaving in a few days, Bill elected to put his valise on the floor and remove just what he needed until then. A high, dark brown mahogany armoire stood in one corner and he hung his slacks and jacket in it. An open door revealed a, modern for the time, bathroom with claw-footed bathtub, free-standing sink with hot and cold running water and a toilet with an overhead water-tank and pull chain. Thick, white towels and a terrycloth bathrobe rounded off the room.

  Classy, thought Bill as he ran the water to wash up.

  Finished, the time traveler went back into the main room as Samson opened his eyes momentarily to make sure it was his new master. Satisfied, the Beagle went back to one of their favorite pastimes: sleeping.

  Bill patted the dog and opened the door to see John and Rocky locking their doors behind them. All three went downstairs and Bill went to the clerk at the desk. He smiled at the overweight man whose jacket buttons seemed to be about to burst.

  “Sir,” he asked, “ My friends and I must be in Iping by ten tomorrow morning. How would you suggest that we travel?”

  “Not too far a trip, sir. I’d say we could have a cab in front by seven sharp. I’d say that’d do ya. Fare could cost ya ‘bout a crown.”

  “Fine,” said Bill as he slipped the clerk a coin. “Will you set that up for us?”

  “That I will, sir,” the heavy man said pocketing the coin, “that I will. Now, tea and crumpets will be out at six in the mornin’ an’ it happens ta be the finest tea in London. Will ya be attendin’?”

  Bill looked at the other two time travelers and all shrugged in unison.

  “Fine then,” he said as he turned to the clerk. “Three for tea and crumpets at six.”

  The three men left the hotel and walked along Saint James Place enjoying the mid-day sun. Horses pulled wagons and cabs just like their cousins in America making the three feel at home. Knowing that no matter where you are in the world, the cabby knows all the good spots, Bill waved a cabby over.

  Where ta, sir?” he asked as he opened a small door in the front while standing on a pedestal at the rear of the two wheeled cab.

  “Your call, sir,” Bill replied as he climbed in. “We’re looking for a Pub to have lunch and a pint. Might you know of a good place?”

  “Aye, I do, sir. That’d be Pig and Whistle Ale & Pie House o’er on Tate Street. Fine ale and pies, be them chicken or beef. Would that be ta yer likin?”

  Bill looked at John and Rocky now seated on either side of him and once again they gave the universal shrug of their shoulders denoting their agreement.

  Bill looked up and to his rear and said, “That’s fine with us, sir. Ride on.” The cabby lightly tapped his horse with the reins and guided him out to the street.

  The three men watched all that went on around them in sheer joy. Horses pulling wagonloads of every sort of luggage, food, beer, wine, furniture and people all seemed to be fighting to get in front of one another. Once in traffic, the cabby became obsessed with getting his passengers to their destination fast and shouting and cussing seemed to be his favorite method of enforcing his will. Finally at the Pub, he pulled over and his calm manner told the three men from the future that the cussing and shouting was an act, probably to gain a larger tip, which they were thrilled to give him.

  They entered the already old Pub and took a small round table where they could watch the patrons and the street through the thick, wavy, yellowed glass. A young girl smiled and did a small curtsy as she asked for their order.

  Taking the lead Bill ordered: “Three pints of ale and what kind of pies do you have?”

  The girl’s eyes arched as she said, “Oh, Colonials! Do ya know Terry McMannus?”

  Bill smiled and said as he shook his head, “No, sorry. I’ll bet there are one million Terry McMannuses’ in New York.”

  She matched his smile, “Ahh, well, If I don’t ask I’ll never know if’n ya know of ‘im. We be getting’ married soon as ‘e comes home ta London. Anyway, today I got beef pie. Is that what ya be wantin’?”

  “A look at his two companions told Bill it was their choice too, and he said so.

  She returned with the three full glasses of ale and John raised his glass and toasted. “To the mission.” They touched glasses and then took a swig.

  “And,” added Bill in a low tone, “to Griffin.”

  John nodded, “God rest his soul.” They took another swig as the girl returned with the three, steaming beef pies.

  Two hours later they walked back to the hotel. The sun was still warm as women hung their wash out on the long wash-lines from their windows to poles in the backyards. The women w
atched as their children played in the cobble-stoned streets dodging horses and wagons and steadily shouted down from their three-story high tenements to be careful. There were almost no men around as the work hours went long into the evening.

  The three time travelers went back and took Samson for a walk. The dog was in hound’s heaven with the myriad of smells which he followed until Bill reigned him in as he got too close to some very large alley cats and rats. Before long they were back in their respective rooms washing up and changing for dinner.

  The hotel’s menu boasted the best steak and kidney pie and they all ordered it along with pints of ale. The ales arrived first and they clicked glasses as Bill offered, “To merry old England.” The three took a long swig of their drinks and the pies were served.

  “So,” asked Rocky as he poked a hole in the crust with his fork, “Just what’s in a steak and kidney pie?”

  Bill answered, “It’s a combination of diced beef and kidney, fried onions and, as you can see, the crust is smothered in salted beef gravy with Worcesterschire sauce and black pepper mixed in. Try it, you’ll love it.”

  After they finished Rocky agreed.

  “Ready for some Manchester tart?” asked Bill.

  “Sure, are you going to tell me what’s in that?”

  “It’s my favorite and if you like it, Matt makes a fantastic one and you and John will enjoy one after the mission.” He eyed the tart as it was placed in front of them accompanied with a pot of tea and cups. “It’s a baked tart and the pastry shell has raspberry jam spread on it then it’s covered with custard filling and topped off with coconut flakes and a Maraschino cherry. Sometimes Matt adds sliced bananas underneath the custard. It’s fantastic!”

  After they washed down the tart with a cup of tea, they lit a cigar and had a brandy. Later, all three walked Samson and retired early in anticipation of the mission’s culmination the following day.