Amongst the passengers aboard the Titanic was Mr Piers Mason, a charismatic conman who’d bought passage with the sole intention of relieving the ship’s wealthy patrons of their fortunes.
He had a $50,000 stake and no idea how he was going to pull it off until, whilst losing $10,000 at cards, he overheard talk of two grandmasters on their way to a prestigious chess tournament.
Mason offered to bet his remaining $40,000 that his companion, Isabel, could play both grandmasters at once and gain a stalemate with at least one of them.
An admiral, thinking him one iceberg short of a disaster, accepted the bet; Mason’s only proviso was that spectators would watch just one game in case they disturb Isabel’s concentration.
A large crowd gathered to watch the madman’s fiancée lose abysmally, but she dashed between tables, countering every move until, after hours of play and mounting humiliation, one of the grandmasters offered a draw.
Mason’s ploy had the simplicity of true genius: when one grandmaster made a move, Isabel duplicated it on the other board, pitting the two grandmasters against each other. Even true genius couldn’t save Mason, however: he died clinging to a raft in icy waters.