Thunderstruck

A MESSAGE FROM THE SEA

ON BOARD THE MONTROSE CAPTAIN Kendall continued his investigation to test his theory about the secret identities of the Robinsons, and he did so with enthusiasm and subtlety. He read over the descriptions conveyed to the ship by Scotland Yard when it had been moored in London, and he examined the photographs of Le Neve and Crippen published in the continental Daily Mail. The man in the photograph had a mustache and spectacles—Robinson did not. Using chalk, Kendall erased both the mustache and the rims around Crippen’s lenses, and found the likeness a close one. In talking with Robinson on deck Kendall noticed marks on either side of his nose, where the frames of spectacles would have rested. He noticed too that Robinson’s supposed son filled out his clothing in a decidedly feminine way. Once, a gust of wind raised the back of the boy’s jacket, and Kendall saw that the rear seam of the pants was held together with large safety pins.

Kendall invited the Robinsons to join him at his table for dinner and found that the boy’s table manners “were most lady-like.” The boy plucked fruit from his plate in a dainty fashion, using only two fingers instead of the full-fisted approach that a lot of men deployed. His father cracked nuts for him, gave him half his salad, and generally attended to him with the kind of solicitude men reserved for women.

During dinner Kendall told stories meant to make Robinson laugh out loud, to gauge whether in fact he had false teeth as mentioned in the police circular. “This ruse was successful,” Kendall noted.

The next morning, Thursday, the second day of the voyage, Kendall engaged Robinson in a conversation about seasickness. He remarked that neither Robinson nor his son seemed to exhibit any symptoms at all. Kendall hoped through this conversation to determine whether Robinson possessed a knowledge of medicine, and indeed found that Robinson immediately began deploying medical terminology to describe certain remedies. “I was then fully convinced that he was a medical man,” Kendall wrote.

Other fragments of damning evidence accumulated. Kendall overheard Robinson speaking French to a pair of other passengers. According to the police circular, Dr. Crippen spoke French. One afternoon Kendall spotted the Robinsons strolling ahead of him and called out, “Mr. Robinson!” But the man took no notice. Kendall tried again, and again Robinson was oblivious, until his son nudged him to get his attention. The father turned with a smile and apologized for not hearing, explaining that the cold weather had made him deaf. (In fact, Crippen by now had developed a hearing deficit and was known at times to use a hearing aid in the shape of a tiny funnel, of brass, which resides today in a display case at the Museum of London.)

Early in the morning of the third day, Friday, July 22, the Montrose left the English Channel and passed the giant Marconi station at Poldhu. Kendall knew that if he was going to alert the police, he would have to do it by evening or pass beyond the transmission range of the ship’s Marconi apparatus.

Kendall composed a message for his superiors at the Canadian Pacific office at Liverpool and sent for his wireless operator, Llewellyn Jones of the Marconi company. At three that afternoon, Greenwich mean time, when the ship was about 130 miles west of the Lizard, Jones began tapping a sequence of dots and dashes destined to become one of the most famous messages in the history of marine wireless.

Have strong suspicions that Crippen London Cellar Murderer and accomplice are amongst saloon passengers. Moustache taken off growing beard. Accomplice dressed as boy voice manner and build undoubtedly a girl. Both traveling as Mr. and Master Robinson. Kendall.

Kendall received nothing in reply; he had no idea whether his message reached Liverpool or not. He kept the Robinsons under close observation.