44

BOAT DECK.

MONDAY, APRIL 15, 1912. 1:42 A.M.

Weiss heard the moans of the emerging zombies, and he hastened his inspections. All the while, he searched the crowds for the German agent. The man was still on the damned boat; Weiss knew it in his bones. The few lifeboats that remained were filling fast.

Weiss ignored the outer trappings of face after face and focused on spotting those sharp, intense brown eyes. He’d recognize them no matter the disguise. Then a commotion drew his attention. One of the ship’s quartermasters struggled with the next passenger in line.

“I am not ready to leave this ship!” shouted a small woman wrapped in expensive furs and oversized, extravagant jewelry. She clawed at the quartermaster, who looked ready to throw her overboard on general principle.

“Hold her arms tight,” instructed Weiss as he thumbed the well-powdered flesh below her eyes, forcing them open so he could clear the grande dame for rescue. She thrashed her head this way and that as Weiss tried to examine her nostrils, ears, and gums.

“The indignity!” she screamed.

“Madame, I assure you, this is absolutely necess—”

“I’m not talking about your bloody health inspection!” squawked the woman. “This brute forcibly removed me from my cabin before I could find my good hair! Wait until Mr. Ismay hears how you treated me!”

Weiss paused, remembering. This was the same woman Lou had pointed out during boarding, the distinguished older lady with the absurd silver-blue hair. “Your good hair?” asked Weiss.

“Stolen!” cried Lady Cardeza. “Miss Anna placed it on the wig stand when I went to sleep. Hair doesn’t just stand up on its hind legs and go for a stroll. Where is the captain? I demand an investigation!”

“Put her on a boat,” said Weiss, standing now to survey the remaining passengers. With the sound of the wailing Lady Cardeza fading to the port side, Weiss strained in the dim light to spot the woman’s wig. He cursed silently. Once again, the German agent was one step ahead of him. Weiss had alerted Titanic’s officers to watch for a man fleeing the ship, not a woman!

He rushed to the rails. Lifeboats dotted the black horizon, their passengers incredibly difficult to make out with clarity. He swung a kerosene lantern in front of him. Its pale light only served to show how far Titanic had dipped into the icy ocean.

Undaunted, Weiss kept surveying the bobbing crafts. Then he saw his target. The silver-blue hair sat atop a large woman, wrapped in a heavy woolen shawl, huddled among at least sixty other passengers on the recently departed Lifeboat 6. Lou was among them.

The Agent was escaping with the Toxic.