Free The Company of the Dead by David Kowalski

to have been lost with the wreck. Of the two-thousand-two-hundred-and-twenty people thought to have been aboard the Titanic only five-hundred-and-twenty-four had been rescued. Search parties from the Carpathia and Californian had sifted among the bodies that rose and fell in the frozen waters. The crews of the rowboats returned, ashen and pale. Not one of the bodies they had recovered had shown any sign of life.
    “And what did Ismay have to say?” Lord asked.
    Bruce Ismay, president of the White Star Line, had been brought aboard the Carpathia in one of the last lifeboats to be found.
    “Not much, actually. Asked me to contact the White Star offices in New York. Arrange matters with them. Hasn’t spoken to anyone since. Says he would like to be left alone, if possible. He’s currently in my stateroom with the doctor.”
    Lord nodded in response.
    “By the time I contacted the New York office they had already spoken to my superiors at Cunard,” Rostron continued. “They have come to some arrangement. I’ve been asked to bring the survivors back to New York.”
    “Cunard wishes to be magnanimous in its support, I suppose,” Lord said.
    “Precisely.”
    “Sirs?” They were interrupted by Bisset, the Carpathia ’s second officer, who’d arrived unnoticed on the boat deck. “We’ve found five more survivors on one of the collapsibles.”
    The two captains turned to face him.
    “It was floating, capsized, three miles from here; fourteen men secured to its keel. Apart from the five we retrieved the rest were all dead. Astor looked in poor shape for a while, but he perked up after we gave him some brandy.”
    “Astor’s alive?” Lord exclaimed.
    “Yes, sir. Officer Lightholler will tell you the entire story. Apparently they were both thrown clear from the Titanic just before she went under. They were both in the water when Mr Lightholler spied the collapsible. Astor was unconscious but Mr Lightholler towed him to the boat.”
    “Good man,” Rostron said. “What of Astor’s bride?”
    “We’ve identified all the first-class passengers among the survivors, Captain. She didn’t make it.”
    “Does Astor know?”
    “I don’t believe so, sir. He is still recuperating below decks with the others. He kept ranting about some list, sir. I believe he may have lost some important document with the ship.”
    “He’s lost a damn sight more than that. Thank you, Mr Bisset.” Rostron turned to face Lord. “Stanley, are you happy to transfer your survivors to the Carpathia ?”
    “Certainly,” Lord replied.
    “I’ll wire New York. The sooner we get these people home, the better.” Rostron paused. “Look, Stanley, the Mount Temple and La Provence have already sent their survivors across. They’re all set to depart.”
    “What is it, Arthur?”
    “The New York office enquired as to whether you might organise the recovery of the other passengers.”
    Lord lifted his gaze to the surrounding waters. The congregation of the dead, dispersed around the still vessel. He sighed heavily.
    “I think we’re going to need a larger boat.”





A GAME OF CHESS I
Opening Moves

I
April 21, 2012
New York City, Eastern Shogunate
    Showered and dressed, John Jacob Lightholler sat at the dining room table of his hotel suite. He wore a dark blue woollen suit. A crumpled plain burgundy tie hung from his neck like an afterthought. He worried its frayed edge between his fingers.
    Before him, smoothed out and spread across the table, lay the letter. A cigarette burned in an ashtray near one of its edges. He found himself staring at the glowing tip.
    It had been over two hours since Kennedy and his men had left, yet little had changed—the breakfast tray remained, its contents long cold, and the newspaper lay unopened on one of the cushioned chairs.
    A question formed in his mind. Reverberated through his thoughts to be borne out in a single word.
    Why?
    He said it softly, as if questioning the meaning of the word itself. He