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They passed it around, shaking their heads.
“Would have stood out, if folks had seen him,” the porter in from Pittsburgh ventured.
Bell said, “It is possible that he’s traveling with someone else. Possibly a doctor.”
“Doctor?”
“For his injury.”
“Well, funny you should say doctor, Mr. Bell.”
“How’s that?’ Bell asked, eagerly.
“I saw two men like you’re saying, but they weren’t on a Pullman. Least not a scheduled one.”
“He could have chartered a special.”
“It was a special I saw. Out in New Jersey, in the Elizabeth yards. They were walking by a special that had just pulled in. I thought they were tramps, but they could have got off the special. And the other fellow was carrying a little bag, that could have been a doctor’s bag.”
“Was he wearing a bandage?”
“I don’t know. But when you ask, I realize he had his collar turned up and his hat pulled low.”
“Yellow hair?”
“Hard to tell under that hat — big old slouch with a wide brim pulled down low.”
“Did you notice whose special it was?”
“I think she was private. I just wasn’t paying much mind.”
“I don’t suppose you saw the engine number?” said Bell.
“Sorry, Mr. Bell. Wish I had. Mr. Locomotive was pointed the other way.”
* * *
“It is strange,” Bell told Archie, “to think it was Semmler whom the porter saw in the Elizabeth yards. If he crossed the continent on a special, why did he get off way out in Elizabeth?”
Archie agreed. “You would think he would take his train closer to the steamship docks. Step from the privacy of a special train to the privacy of a First Class stateroom.”
“Once on the boat, he takes his meals in his room. No one sees him till he lands in England or France or Germany — First Class and private all the way from Los Angeles to Berlin.”
“So why did he get off in the Elizabeth yards?”
Bell pulled a regional map down from the ceiling of the Van Dorn library. “He could go anywhere from Elizabeth. Newark has a German community. The German steamers dock at Hoboken. Or he could catch the train or the tubes into Manhattan. Lots of choices.”
“But not so private and not First Class.”
Bell raised the map, spun on his heel, and stared at Archie, his eyes alight with sudden realization. “But Christian Semmler did not arrive in America in First Class.”
“What do you mean?”
“He did not disembark from the Mauretania with the First Class passengers at Pier 54.”
“He wasn’t a passenger,” said Archie. “He did not intend to sail on the Mauretania. He would have taken Clyde and Beiderbecke off the ship in Liverpool Bay if you hadn’t stopped him.”
“He crossed the ocean in the Mauretania’s stokehold and landed on a coal barge without leaving a trace of his arrival. What if he goes back the same route? No one in the black gang is going to question a knife wound. I’ll bet half the trimmers who return to ship are bunged up from bar fights and saloon b
