Book 9 Read online

  Less than two minutes passed before the communicator vibrated and a message appeared on the small screen:

  GREETINGS SIR. ALL IS FINE EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT SAMSON CHEWED UP ONE OF YOUR SLIPPERS. I SHALL REPLACE IT BEFORE YOU RETURN.

  Bill laughed as he signed off: NO PROBLEM, MATT.

  He put the communicator in his valise and then placed it in the closet and locked it. Bill then picked up a brochure of the ship, kicked off his shoes and lay back on the bed and went through it. He had only caught a quick glance of the ship from dockside and now he remembered that he was on a turn-of-the-century ship. She was long and low with three masts and two smoke stacks. The highest mast had a crow’s nest on it. The brochure stated that she was 582 feet long and powered by two steam engines that produced 20 knots. The decks were made of teak wood and passengers had an area to stroll upon while other areas had shuffleboard games set into the deck. Wherever there was an open space on the deck there were lounge chairs for those who wanted to just read and relax.

  “Those lounge chairs look good to me,” Bill quipped. He looked at his watch, stepped out of his cabin, lit a cigar and strolled the deck. Although he was waiting for the ship’s whistle to sound he still jumped when it did as did many of the other passengers strolling the deck. Bill went to the port side and watched as dock workers cast off the thick manila ropes. The twin screws turned slowly edging the ship away from the dock with the help of a tugboat. Five minutes later the tug sounded her whistle as the big ship aimed her sharp nose downstream. Captain Smith answered the tug’s farewell whistle with one of his own and once again most of the passengers jumped.

  Bill was once again struck by the much lower outline of New York as they made their way south towards the Atlantic Ocean. As usual when he got to where the Twin Towers would be for so short a time, he removed his hat and nodded his head in a silent moment for what he knew was going to happen. He stood there until the ship passed where the Verrazano Bridge would be built to span the distance between Brooklyn and Staten Island, and then returned to his cabin.

  Bill pulled back the curtains and let the fresh air enter through the open window, as he got ready for dinner. Finally, a voice was heard and a young man dressed in the usual white jacket and blue slacks walked along the deck saying: “Dinner will be served at 7:30. Please gather in the main dining room at the rear of the top deck.”

  Bill walked slowly towards the dining room admiring the sun, as it seemed to slowly drop out of the sky. He entered the large dining room and was again impressed with the results of the designer’s visions. Round mahogany columns rose from the highly polished dark wood floors to the ceiling, which was an imitation of the sky in that it was painted a light blue with puffy white clouds some of which were edged in the gold of the sun. Sea birds seemed to flock over a slightly raised section of the floor that had a large table and settings for ten persons. Large windows were situated wherever the designer could place them and mirrors filled the spots where there were no windows. This allowed the daylight to enter and fill the room with light, while, at night, the mirrors reflected the light of the many gas and oil lamps in the room. Bill counted thirty tables each with ten settings plus the large table with its ten settings on the raised dais.

  Must be the captain’s table, he thought as he sat.

  It wasn’t long before there were nine more passengers seated and although introductions were made, Bill swore that he would change tables at every meal in order to not become friends with people that he knew would be gone when he returned home. I don’t want to come across as aloof or anything, he thought, it’s just that making friends and leaving them behind hurts. I’d rather they go on blissfully unaware that I’m different from them.

  After all were seated another group came in and proved Bill’s guess to be true as Captain Smith led the small group of selected passengers to the dais. They sat and suddenly waiters appeared and started attending the tables.

  The dinner was magnificent and stayed with the plan to be as good as, if not better than, any New York or London hotel. The silver type on the high gloss dark blue menu told it all: Oysters on the half shell, Clear soup, Custard and Spinach Blocks, Olives, Celery, Deviled Spaghetti, Roasted Turkey, Chestnut Stuffing, Cranberry Jelly, Sweet Potato Croquettes, Peas Served in Turnip Cups, Ginger Sherbet, Lettuce Salad, Cheese Balls, Toasted Crackers, Plum Pudding, Hard Sauce, Coffee, Bonbons, Almonds.

  After dinner, most of the passengers went to the lounge and danced to the music provided by the ship’s orchestra. Bill had a large beer and after enjoying a cigar went to his cabin.

  He filled the small bathtub and was surprised to find that the bathwater was warmed saltwater. “Oh well, it’s still refreshing,” he said as he relaxed in the porcelain tub. He read more of the ship’s brochure as he allowed the water to cool before getting out and into his robe.

  Making sure the curtains were closed, he slipped under the covers and put out the oil lamp before falling asleep to the throb of the ship’s engines.

  “Mmmm, I miss Matt,” he thought as he got out of bed at seven o’clock the next morning. “He’s usually standing here with my breakfast or at least a mug of hot coffee.” The time traveler washed, shaved, got dressed and stepped out of his cabin as once again the young man walked by announcing that breakfast was at eight sharp in the same dining room as last evening.

  As he promised himself, Bill took a different table and after introductions had breakfast.

  “Boy, I have to find the gym after eating like this,” he said to himself patting his stomach as he read the breakfast menu.

  Eggs, over, sunny, hard-boiled or soft-boiled, Cereal, hot or cold with milk, bacon, sausage, either English or Scotch, Tomatoes, Potatoes, fried or mashed, Steak or Kidney, Mushrooms, Toast, white or brown, buttered with jelly alongside, rolls, tea or coffee.

  Most of the men looked at Bill as he just had eggs over lightly, bacon and white toast with butter and coffee while they had almost one portion of everything available. After breakfast, he excused himself and asked the waiter where the gym was. He went back to his cabin just as the cleaning man left it. He grabbed his workout clothes and spent an hour in the gym, which he pretty much had all to himself.

  After a shower of warm saltwater he changed and before going to his cabin, asked where the ship’s library was located.

  Bill found first editions of books that he never had the time to read and snapped them up. One hour later he was stretched out in a deck chair reading: The Undead, which later was renamed Dracula by Bram Stoker. Bill borrowed three other books from the library: Barrack-Room Ballads and Other Verses by Rudyard Kipling which had been published in 1896, Caricatures of Twenty-Five Gentlemen by Max Beerbohm published in 1896 and The Valley of Kashmir by Sir Walter Roper Lawrence published in 1895. The rest of his trip mimicked the first day: breakfast, gym, deckchair and book, lunch, deckchair and book, dinner and a few laps around the deck before taking a bath and turning in.

  It was four o’clock in the afternoon when the ship tied up at the London dock and Bill was one of the first to disembark. Once at the bottom of the gangway he purposely evaded the many cab drivers offering to take him somewhere. I’m in London in 1897 and I want to see the sights and the first is the dock area. He walked around slowly as he took it all in: old sailors sitting on barrels chatting amongst themselves while others whittled away at creating a piece of art from a whale’s tooth. There were fishmongers with carts that were overloaded with fresh fish and lines of Londoners inspecting the catch as the cart owner tried in vain to keep the flies away. Young boys ran from passenger to passenger offering to help them with their bundles while a few Bobby’s stood around smacking their nightstick into the palm of their hand as they watched them. Carriages were lined up with the cab drivers shouting that they knew every street in London and their price were the cheapest. All of this and more were taking place as hundreds of seagulls hovered overhead screeching and diving for a dropped piece of fish from the many fishing boats.

  “Wow!” said Bill happily as he watched, “This is history come alive.” He finally flagged a cab and hopped in. Bill called up to the driver, “London Savoy Hotel, please.”

  The cab driver answered with a grunt and a snap of the reins and the horse took off. As usual, Bill was all-eyes as the City of London went past. He grinned as he thought, As I’ve said before: If not for the accent, it could be the New York docks. Everything was the same as New York: children playing in the streets while the older ones played cards. Garbage seemed to naturally gather at the sides of buildings for dogs and cats to explore and the air quality was the same, as the horse was still the main means of transportation.

  The carriage stopped in front of a large building with huge double wooden doors and potted plants lining both sides of the cobblestone entranceway. A young man dressed in a red and white uniform opened the carriage door and stood tall as Bill exited the cab.

  “Sir, may I help you with your luggage?”

  “Ah, sure,” answered Bill. He was slightly embarrassed but then remembered the times he was in, Have to remember this is the time of the gentleman and all the perks that come with it. Oh well, when in Rome do as the Romans do.

  The hotel’s lobby was grand and Bill laughed to himself, Boy, this is the life. He was shown a room that matched the cabin he occupied on the ship. Wow, he thought, they both do a great job of making a person feel like a millionaire.

  As he was only staying overnight, he left his clothes in the valise, washed up and went out for a stroll and dinner. Boy, he thought as he walked down a wide street, there are buildings here now that I remember seeing when I was here in 2012, and they’re old already!

  Following the directions, he had looked up on his laptop, he easily found Joseph Malin’s Fish & Chip Shop. Malin himself rolled up a newspaper into the shape of a cone and put his food in it. Bill paid and took it back to his room. As he ate them he smiled at the fact that Joseph Malin was credited with opening the first Fish & Chip shop in England and he was enjoying the original recipe.

  He also enjoyed a cigar and brandy from the hotel room’s stock, bathed happily in the non-salty water and went to sleep.

  After a filling breakfast Bill walked over to the Southland Railway Line and, following Matt’s instructions, purchased a ticket to Gosport. Once there he would switch to another train that would bring him to the last and most southern stop on the line: Gosport. From there, he could take a ferry across Portsmouth Harbor to The Isle of Wight.

  That’s eighteen hours of travel, he thought as he took a seat on one of the long wooden high backed benches in the waiting room.

  He purchased a newspaper from a young newsboy and read as he waited for the train to be posted. Finally, an elderly man dressed in a blue uniform walked over and said, “Sir, your train will depart from track 2 in twenty minutes. Shall I help you with your luggage?”

  Bill stood and smiled his thanks as he said, “Thank you anyway but it’s lighter than it looks.”

  The man tipped his hat and said, “G’day and have a nice trip, sir.”

  Bill walked out to the loading area and climbed aboard. He took a seat in a compartment next to a window and a conductor entered and tipped his hat as he said, “G’day, sir. Might I have your ticket?” After his ticket was punched, Bill kicked off his shoes and relaxed.

  Twenty-minutes later the train pulled out of the station and once again he was a witness to parts of London that only appeared in black and white photographs in his time.

  It was an eighteen hour trip and the time traveler dozed off more than a few times to the sway of the train. At one point, he walked through the train and seeing no dining car thought, Boy, on the way back I’ll be carrying some sandwiches and drinks.

  Finally, a conductor rapped on his door before opening it and with a nod said: “Wickham in fifteen minutes, sir.”

  Once at Wickham Station the conductor pointed out his connection and Bill nodded as he saw an elderly woman selling food from a pushcart. He approached her, “Excuse me, m’am, what is it that you are selling?”

  The short heavy-set woman said as she held up a thick sandwich, “Sliced beef on brown bread, sir. Made it meself this very mornin’ would ya like one? Only three pence.”

  The growl in his stomach told Bill that he wanted one. “Yes,” as he fumbled for his money.

  “Would ya like some cider ta wash it down, sir? It was made by me husband just last night an’ it be me last one. One pence.”

  Bill saw her pull a corked bottle from a drawer and he realized how thirsty he was, “Yes, I’ll take the drink along with the sandwich.”

  He got to the train just as it blew its whistle and once again he found an empty compartment and entered. After the conductor checked his ticket he ate the sandwich and emptied the bottle of cider. Now for a little nap, he thought as he kicked off his shoes and spread out as much as he could on the seat.

  The next thing he heard was knocking on the compartment’s door. He looked up as the conductor opened it slightly and said, “Gosport in fifteen minutes, sir.”

  Bill stretched and put his shoes on and fifteen minutes later he stood on the platform. It was four o’clock in the morning and the platform was jammed with people from the train eager to see the Royal Naval Review. A large gray wooden wagon pulled up. It was pulled by two horses and had nine rows of wooden benches beneath a canvas roof. The side of the wagon read: GOSPORT HOTEL.

  “Rooms available at the Gosport Hotel,” called out the driver between yawns and people slowly started to walk towards him. Bill knew he needed a days rest to complete his mission and he was one of the first aboard. When every seat was taken the driver took them seven blocks to a three-story hotel.

  Bill took a room and was asleep in ten minutes.

  The next morning he had a breakfast of eggs, bacon, haggis, toast and coffee in the hotel’s dining room and by ten o’clock he was one of many on the ferry heading towards The Isle of Wight. He stood by the front railing watching sail and powerboats as they crisscrossed the deep blue waters, all heading towards Spithead and the British Naval Review portion of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee.

  When the ferry docked at Cowes he went to a small hotel within walking distance of the docks, the Wind Jammer, and took a room. He dressed in a blue jacket with tan slacks and a white turtle neck sweater finishing it all off with a pair of black canvas shoes.

  Bill checked his notes. “Tomorrow Charles Algernon Parsons will leave his home, stop in the Wee Tea House and then go to his boat which is tied up at the dock. But rather than taking her out for a pre-jubilee run, he falls into the water and drowns.” Bill looks at a photo of Parsons and put it in his inside breast pocket, “Well, mister navy SEAL,” he said addressing himself, “you better be sharp.”

  Bill timed his walk to Parsons’ house and casually glanced at it as he walked past it and down the cobblestone path towards the dock. Once there he joined the many boat owners and their friends walking and sitting on the dock or their own boats. It was a merry old time and they were all getting ready for the naval review in two days. Bill stopped by Parsons’ boat. She was 98 feet long and painted red and white with a single, light yellow, funnel. Her crewmembers were on her deck cleaning her brass and making her look as good as she was fast. All of a sudden another man popped out of the wheelhouse. Slim with a mustache that was pointy on the ends, Bill knew from the photograph that it was Charles Parsons. Parsons climbed out of the wheelhouse and walked the deck towards the dock and said to the men, “Tomorrow is the last test run, mates.”

  “And,” said one of the other men with a grin, “the next day we may all be in London Tower for embarrassing the Queen’s Navy.” They all laughed. The inventor climbed up the ladder and once on the dock waved goodbye and walked briskly down the dock.

  Bill was about to follow him but thought better of it, No sense in doing that. I can’t risk him spotting me and changing his plan in any way.

  The time traveler spent the rest of the day touring the area. Boy, he thought as he sipped a cold drink by an outdoor vendor, it seems that every British male is wearing white slacks and blue jacket along with a white captain’s hat. He snapped his fingers and with a nod said, “Well, if ever there was a place to purchase a seafaring outfit, it’s right here.” He walked one short block before coming to a men’s clothing store. Thirty minutes later he emerged from the store with a parcel under his arm. He walked with a kick in his step stopping at the water’s edge. He lit a cigar as he watched every type of boat ever made, sailing too and fro. Suddenly all of the sailboats seemed to turn at once and head home to their small section of the dock.

  I wonder why, he thought as he gave a last try at blowing a smoke ring against the light breeze coming off the water. Ten minutes later the powerboats started coming in and it hit him: It’s dinnertime! They’re all coming in to eat dinner. He quickly figured that the number of boats all docking at once, so their occupants could have dinner, would easily overpower the small number of restaurants in the area. Bill did an about face and walked from the beach to the town. He stopped at a small place and saw through the large window that there were a few tables available, so he went in. It was named The MacKillop Inn, and stated that they offered the best seafood in England.

  Bill took a table near the window so he could watch as all of the boat owners and their families walked up the cobblestone street. A waiter passed him a menu and he realized he was famished as he read it. In less than five minutes he gave the waiter his order but asked that he get him a glass of white wine first. The waiter returned with his drink and Bill watched as the restaurant filled up.