Thunderstruck - Erik Larson [49]
Fleming bristled. “I made no attack on you or any other scientific men in my letter to the Times,” he replied. “I called attention to certain important achievements which in the public interest I thought should be noticed and described.” He wrote that he was simply raising a point acknowledged by others, “that the time had arrived for a little more generous recognition of Signor Marconi’s work as an original inventor. That after all is a matter on which different views may be held and if you dissent from it you are quite entitled to your opinion.”
Soon afterward Marconi asked Fleming to become scientific adviser to his company. On May 2, 1899, Fleming wrote to Jameson Davis to set out certain conditions and to define “my position and views a little carefully.”
If Jameson Davis cringed at this sentence, fearing a reprise of Lord Kelvin’s qualms, he was soon reassured. Fleming wrote: “I have a strong conviction of the commercial possibilities of Mr. Marconi’s inventions apart from their scientific interest provided they are properly handled. I should desire to see a genuine business of a solid character built up.” He added a paragraph that later events would show to be in contradiction to elements of his character, especially his own deep need for recognition. Fleming wrote, “All that a scientific adviser does in the way of invention, suggestion or advice should be the sole property of those retaining him so far as their own affairs are concerned. I have noticed that any other course invariably leads sooner or later to difficulties and perhaps disputes.”
Fleming agreed to work under a one-year contract, renewable at each party’s discretion, for a fee of £300 a year. For the moment it seemed generous.
Now, Marconi revealed to him the nature of the grand experiment that had begun to occupy his thoughts. It would require two gigantic wireless stations and demand the production of more electrical energy than anything Marconi previously had attempted.
Though his maximum distance so far had been only thirty-two miles, what Marconi now proposed was to transmit messages across the full breadth of the Atlantic.
THE LADIES’ GUILD COMMENCES
BELLE’S AVOWED FONDNESS FOR BRUCE Miller had an important consequence. She told Crippen she no longer cared for him, and she threatened to leave him for Miller. Though they still slept in the same bed, they spent their nights without touch or warmth. They struck a bargain. Outwardly no one was to know of the strain in their marriage. “It was always agreed that we should treat each other as if there had never been any trouble,” Crippen said.
He gave her money just as always, “with a free hand whatever she seemed to want at any time; if she asked me for money she always had it.” She bought furs and jewelry and countless dresses. On one occasion he gave her £35—about $3,800 today—to buy an ermine cape. In public she always called him “dear.”
In September 1903 Crippen went so far as to open a joint “current” account at Charing Cross Bank in the Strand. The account required his signature and Belle’s but did not require both to be present when a check was presented for cashing. About three years later the Crippens opened a savings account at the same bank, with an initial deposit of £250—$26,000—under both their names.
Crippen paid for Belle’s evenings out with friends and sometimes even came along, acting always the part of an affectionate and indulgent husband. He paid too for Belle’s evenings with Miller.
Later Miller would contend that on some of his visits to the Crippens’ flat he had the feeling that Crippen was at home, elsewhere among the rooms.
One evening Miller arrived at the Store Street apartment to find the table set for three. Belle held up dinner “until quite late,” Miller recalled. Belle said,