without preamble. “Get steerage as well as first class. Quick takes—we’ll piece it together. Did they see the iceberg, when did they realize what was going on. The more detail the better; get some near-miss stories. Get me—”
“Hello, Carr.”
Van Anda could see that she was really angry this time.
“Hello, Pinky.”
“Why me?” she asked.
“Because you’re the best human-interest reporter I know. And I’m sorry you don’t have to risk your life for the story. I’ll try to rectify that later.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He did have a sense of humor.
“I want to get on the ship before it docks,” she said.
“Great. You find a way; I’m happy.”
WASHINGTON, D.C.
APRIL 18
3:30 P.M.
Senator Smith barely made the train pulling out of Union Station, swinging himself up on the lower step as it began to move, a briefcase stuffed with papers tucked precariously under one arm, two aides scrambling up after him.
“You’re impressing those reporters,” one of them said, pointing at a swarm of men holding cameras and notebooks, now rapidly being left behind on the platform.
Smith was secretly pleased to hear his aide’s somewhat awed, breathless report. He’d shown them audacity all right, and it hadn’t taken long. His position on the Commerce Committee had helped, ofcourse. His resolution to set up an investigation, with himself chairing, had gone through the Senate like a hot knife through butter; now, there was a good old midwestern expression. And he was going to start the hearings in New York instead of Washington—right there in midtown at the Waldorf hotel. He’d snag more witnesses there, and get to them faster. Tomorrow morning, the show would begin.
The senator settled himself into a seat and checked his watch for the twentieth time. “We’ve got to get on the
Carpathia
before it docks,” he said to the aides. “Those White Star people will vanish if we don’t slap subpoenas on them right away. Especially that slippery Ismay.”
“You think they planted those phony messages saying the ship hadn’t sunk?” asked one.
“Absolutely.” It made him angry, thinking of all the people who had set off for Halifax to greet friends and family members after being reassured that the
Titanic
was safe. A brutal, cowardly lie, and for what? To gain more time for White Star officials to save their hides?
He frowned and leaned back in his seat. Yes, he had played his cards right. No one in Congress had thought faster than he. This, he told himself, staring out at the passing landscape, would crown his career as a public servant. If he made it in time.
Slowly the
Carpathia
inched forward, steaming ever closer to New York Harbor. By five o’clock people had begun lining the railings, straining for a glimpse of land. The evening would be brisk, and Tess pulled her sweater close. She watched the cook’s wife, who had now taken to wandering the deck, grabbing at people’s arms. “Have you seen my children? Are they eating dinner?” she kept repeating. “Please tell them I’m waiting. If they don’t come soon, I have to go find them.”
Jim was standing by himself, smoking a cigarette, staring ahead where land would soon appear.
Tess looked around swiftly; Lucile was nowhere near. “Will you be met?” she asked shyly, joining him at the rail, feeling awkward. Most likely, reaching land would make them strangers to each other again.
“Nobody here for me.” He said it with a light shrug. “White Star says they’re bunking us down somewhere for the inquiry. We’ll see; Ismay has other ideas.” He looked down at her, seeming to search her face for something. “I heard some U.S. senator is coming aboard soon to start interviewing the officers and crew,” he said.
“The captain says the government hearings begin tomorrow.”
Jim let out a short laugh. “That means the politicians take over. Sorry, but I figure it will be one more dance of greedy businessmen finding
“Hello, Carr.”
Van Anda could see that she was really angry this time.
“Hello, Pinky.”
“Why me?” she asked.
“Because you’re the best human-interest reporter I know. And I’m sorry you don’t have to risk your life for the story. I’ll try to rectify that later.”
She couldn’t help but smile. He did have a sense of humor.
“I want to get on the ship before it docks,” she said.
“Great. You find a way; I’m happy.”
WASHINGTON, D.C.
APRIL 18
3:30 P.M.
Senator Smith barely made the train pulling out of Union Station, swinging himself up on the lower step as it began to move, a briefcase stuffed with papers tucked precariously under one arm, two aides scrambling up after him.
“You’re impressing those reporters,” one of them said, pointing at a swarm of men holding cameras and notebooks, now rapidly being left behind on the platform.
Smith was secretly pleased to hear his aide’s somewhat awed, breathless report. He’d shown them audacity all right, and it hadn’t taken long. His position on the Commerce Committee had helped, ofcourse. His resolution to set up an investigation, with himself chairing, had gone through the Senate like a hot knife through butter; now, there was a good old midwestern expression. And he was going to start the hearings in New York instead of Washington—right there in midtown at the Waldorf hotel. He’d snag more witnesses there, and get to them faster. Tomorrow morning, the show would begin.
The senator settled himself into a seat and checked his watch for the twentieth time. “We’ve got to get on the
Carpathia
before it docks,” he said to the aides. “Those White Star people will vanish if we don’t slap subpoenas on them right away. Especially that slippery Ismay.”
“You think they planted those phony messages saying the ship hadn’t sunk?” asked one.
“Absolutely.” It made him angry, thinking of all the people who had set off for Halifax to greet friends and family members after being reassured that the
Titanic
was safe. A brutal, cowardly lie, and for what? To gain more time for White Star officials to save their hides?
He frowned and leaned back in his seat. Yes, he had played his cards right. No one in Congress had thought faster than he. This, he told himself, staring out at the passing landscape, would crown his career as a public servant. If he made it in time.
Slowly the
Carpathia
inched forward, steaming ever closer to New York Harbor. By five o’clock people had begun lining the railings, straining for a glimpse of land. The evening would be brisk, and Tess pulled her sweater close. She watched the cook’s wife, who had now taken to wandering the deck, grabbing at people’s arms. “Have you seen my children? Are they eating dinner?” she kept repeating. “Please tell them I’m waiting. If they don’t come soon, I have to go find them.”
Jim was standing by himself, smoking a cigarette, staring ahead where land would soon appear.
Tess looked around swiftly; Lucile was nowhere near. “Will you be met?” she asked shyly, joining him at the rail, feeling awkward. Most likely, reaching land would make them strangers to each other again.
“Nobody here for me.” He said it with a light shrug. “White Star says they’re bunking us down somewhere for the inquiry. We’ll see; Ismay has other ideas.” He looked down at her, seeming to search her face for something. “I heard some U.S. senator is coming aboard soon to start interviewing the officers and crew,” he said.
“The captain says the government hearings begin tomorrow.”
Jim let out a short laugh. “That means the politicians take over. Sorry, but I figure it will be one more dance of greedy businessmen finding
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