The Titanic Secret by Jack Steel

magnificent. The vast wooden structure was essentially two staircases joined together, the outer sections leading down on either side to a half landing, from which the lower part of the staircase descended in a pair of elegant sweeping curves, separated by an ornate central banister. At the end of the banister, surmounting an intricately carved wooden pillar, stood a bronze carving of a cherub, holding aloft a light in the shape of a flaming torch.
    ‘That really is impressive,’ Tremayne remarked, thinking as he did so that the light seemed ridiculously ornate and complex for the simple task it was intended to perform.
    ‘That is the forward first-class staircase,’ Alfred explained. ‘It serves five decks, all the way from the Boat Deck down to D-Deck, which is where we are now. Then, below here there’s a normal staircase that leads down to E-Deck. I should explain that the decks on a ship are labelled from the top down, but usually the decks are named as well.’
    ‘So what’s D-Deck called?’ Tremayne asked.
    ‘They try to name them after the most important feature on that deck,’ Alfred said, ‘so on this ship we have the Boat Deck, Promenade Deck and so on. This deck is known as the Saloon Deck, because we have the main dining saloon here.’
    He led the way over to the staircase, but paused just to one side of it before he led them up. ‘If you look here,’ he said, pointing upwards, ‘all the way to the top, you can see that there’s a huge glass dome covering the top of the staircase, up on the Boat Deck. So it’s really light and airy all day.’
    Although electric lights were burning on the landings and around the staircase itself, most of the illumination came from the very top of the staircase. Tremayne looked where the steward was pointing, and high above them he could see what looked like a part of a glowing ball, as the glass dome was illuminated by sunlight.
    ‘At night,’ Alfred said, ‘you get the opposite effect. If you’re out walking on the Boat Deck, there’s this wonderful glow as the dome’s lit from below by the staircase lighting. Now we need to go up to the deck above.’
    They followed him as he began climbing the stairs. ‘There’s another staircase,’ he added, ‘a smaller and less ornate version, further aft. They’re both reserved for use by first-class passengers only. The second- and third-class passengers have their own separate staircases located elsewhere on the ship.’
    ‘So which deck is our cabin on?’ Tremayne asked, as Alfred led the way up the staircase.
    The clear division and segregation of the different grades of passenger didn’t surprise him. In fact, he thought it slightly amusing that so much trouble had been taken to ensure that first-class travellers would never have to be offended by the sight of a third-class man or woman, in case it put them off their luncheon or dinner. In Tremayne’s opinion, the reverse case was probably also true, and he knew that he, personally, would probably find life far more comfortable and agreeable in the lower-grade accommodation than where he would actually be spending his time on board.
    ‘Second-class passengers have cabins, sir,’ Alfred replied, smiling. ‘You’re first-class passengers, so you have a stateroom, and it’s on the deck we’re coming on to now. This is C-Deck, also known as the Shelter Deck. Now, before I take you to your accommodation, we have to visit the Purser’s Office to have your tickets inspected – that’s the last time, I promise you – so if you could just follow me just over here, please.’
    Alfred walked across the landing to an office off to the starboard side, a long counter framed in polished wood, behind which two uniformed men were dealing with a small number of other first-class passengers.
    ‘As soon as one of the officers is free, please show him your tickets,’ Alfred said.
    It wasn’t a long wait and once the formalities were over, Alfred led them across