Young Sherlock Holmes_ Red Leech - Andrew Lane [40]
Eventually they arrived at Southampton. Amyus and Virginia Crowe were already waiting for them – Crowe with a discreet bandage wound around his forehead, nearly hidden by the brim of his hat. Sherlock guessed they had ridden down and then arranged for their horses to be stabled while they were gone.
‘I have your tickets and travel documents,’ Mycroft said, handing a sheaf of paper across to Amyus Crowe. ‘You are booked on the SS Scotia. That’s her over there. She belongs to the Cunard Line – a fine British ship. The tickets are First Class, of course. I would not expect you to endure the rigours of steerage – not with your daughter and my brother in your charge.’
Sherlock followed Mycroft’s gesturing hand, and saw a huge ship that appeared to be fully as long as a rugby field. A massive paddle wheel was set halfway along the side of the vessel – presumably there was a similar one on the other side. As well as the paddle wheels, it also had two masts with sails that were, at the moment, furled. Sherlock assumed that the paddle wheels were driven by steam engines inside the massive hull – two funnels emerging from the deck were probably there to carry the steam away – and that the sails would be used when there was wind to fill them while the steam-driven paddle wheels would drive the ship when the wind dropped.
His logical mind chased the thought down. If the paddle wheels were driven by steam engines then the steam engines had to be driven by burning coal, which meant that the ship must have reserves of coal stored on board, on the basis that there was no way to take on more coal in the middle of the Atlantic. That meant extra weight, which meant extra coal would be needed just to move the coal around. But how did you work out how much coal was needed for the voyage when for every extra ton of coal you added you had to add some more just to move that ton around, and knowing that as that ton was used up then the amount you needed to move it around got less and less? There was a complex mathematical calculation there, just out of reach, which reminded him strangely of the example Amyus Crowe had given him some weeks ago of the way the numbers of foxes and rabbits varied over time. Was everything in the world driven ultimately by equations?
‘Grateful as I am for your help, Mr Holmes,’ Amyus Crowe said, strangely diffident, ‘I’m not a rich man. We have not talked about the question of financial recompense.’
‘No need.’ Mycroft waved a hand, obviously embarrassed at this discussion of money. ‘The British Government has paid for these tickets. At some stage in the next week or so I will have a conversation with your Ambassador, and suggest that he helps defray the cost, on the basis that we are assisting your nation with your own internal politics, but for the moment rest assured that you will not be left destitute upon your arrival in New York. I presume you have access to funds there?’
Amyus Crowe nodded. ‘Grateful, nevertheless, Mr Holmes.’
Sherlock glanced to Amyus Crowe’s side, where Virginia stood. She was looking nervous, and her face was bloodless, white.
Are you all right?’ Sherlock asked, moving over to her while his brother and her father continued to talk.
She nodded. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she said.
‘I thought you’d be pleased about returning home?’
She glanced at him with an expression that could have