His Father's Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 5) Read online

  ‘It would be wrong of me,’ said Mrs Barnham, ‘not to use the gift I was given to alleviate the sorrows of others. I have a number of close friends many of whom have been visiting me for several years and we meet weekly. I do not advertise. I do not ask for money. It is enough reward for me that the bereaved can, through me, receive assurances of the eternal happiness of their departed loved ones, and the certainty that one day they will be reunited in heaven.’

  I placed my teacup down and leaned forward. The time had come to adopt an expression of unfeigned eagerness, barely concealed. ‘Have you made contact with the spirits of King William or Queen Adelaide? Or any royal or noble personages?’

  Mrs Barnham allowed herself an indulgent smile. ‘No, but then my sitters do not have such elevated connections, and they ask questions concerning their own families.’

  ‘I confess that you have greatly excited my curiosity,’ I said, breathlessly. ‘How do the spirits pass on their wisdom? Do they appear before you? Do you and your sitters see them and hear them speak?’

  ‘I regret that bodily manifestations only appear in very special cases. Neither do I or my sitters hear voices. No, the spirits send me messages. When they first started to come through there were simply raps or movements of the table. At first, they could only give us answers of yes or no, but then I devised a means of spelling out words. I would call out the letters of the alphabet one by one, and the rap or tilt would occur when I spoke the correct one. The method is slow, but the results are good. Some ten years ago, however, I gave a sitting to an American gentleman and he told me of a device he had seen, called a spiritoscope, which received the messages with much greater speed and clarity.’

  ‘Clarity,’ interrupted Mina when Mr Merridew reached that point in his account. ‘She used that word?’

  ‘She did indeed, most distinctly.’

  Mina nodded, recalling the name given by the anonymous letter writer to the Gazette who had praised the virtue of Mrs Vardy. ‘It is a very good word. Please do go on.’ Mina glanced at Richard, who seemed only mildly interested and sat fumbling with the cigar case in his pocket. ‘If you wish to smoke, Richard, you may do so, but not in here.’ He took the hint and the last of the cake.

  Mr Merridew continued, and it occurred to Mina that he, in his own way was a kind of medium, since his tone and gestures conjured up before her the face form and voice of Mrs Barnham.

  ‘My husband,’ said Mrs Barnham, ‘was a maker of ship’s instruments, and he was most interested in the device and asked the gentleman to describe it to him. From this description he was able to prepare a drawing of how it was constructed. Once the gentleman had left, he declared that such a device was very easy to make, and he built one for me. I have used it ever since.’

  I glanced at the cloth-covered table with its mysterious disk in the corner of the room. ‘Mrs Barnham, you would earn my eternal gratitude if I could see this device perform its miracles.’

  She helped herself to more rum punch. ‘Then you must call upon me at six o’clock tomorrow evening when my circle of friends gathers. You would be very welcome.’

  ‘And so,’ said Mr Merridew triumphantly, ‘I am now persona grata at Mrs Barnham’s select soiree, which I shall attend tonight, and which promises to be very fascinating. I will be your eyes and ears, but you must provide me with some clues as to what I am to observe. Surely you do not suspect the venerable lady of some crime? I am sure she does receive payment by some means or another, little gifts and favours, but her circumstances do not suggest that she is rich, far from it. And she must be more than eighty, now. Prison would not be kind to her.’

  While Mina was considering her response, Rose came to remove the tea-things and since there was no more to eat, Richard removed himself.

  Mina was about to protest that she had no interest in Mrs Barnham’s séances other than curiosity about the spiritoscope, but that would not do. Mr Merridew was no fool, he would know if she deceived him and Mina felt she hardly had the energy to maintain the fiction any further.

  ‘I do not suspect Mrs Barnham of wrongdoing,’ said Mina. ‘She may be genuine, she may be a fraud, but she brings comfort to her friends and appears to ask for nothing in return. What I would like to hear is your observations of those persons in her circle. Especially the ladies. I want to know more about them.’

  ‘A study of character. Of those with tales to tell. Secrets perhaps,’ said Mr Merridew with a conspiratorial smile.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Mina.

  ‘Character study,’ said Mr Merridew, ‘is my speciality.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mina, impatient to hear Mr Merridew’s account of Mrs Barnham’s séance, used the interlude to make the necessary arrangements for the next stage in her enquiries. There was an exchange of notes, the result being an appointment for Miss Cherry to have a free half day on the following Monday afternoon, so that she and Mrs Phipps could become acquainted. Mina suggested that it would be an opportunity for Miss Cherry to demonstrate her reading skills by taking her copy of The Young Woman’s Companion for the entertainment of Mrs Phipps, reassuring the nurse that she could manage without it for a few hours. Miss Cherry instructed Rose on how to attend to Mina during her brief absence and prepared for the interview by purchasing a new bonnet.

  Mina, meanwhile, composed a letter to Mrs Vardy.

  Dear Mrs Vardy,

  My health is very much improved, and I will be pleased to receive you on Monday afternoon at 2pm. I wish to keep our discussion confidential and I would therefore suggest a small and harmless deception to ensure secrecy. I hope you are agreeable to this.

  When you call, please could you bring a business card of Saltmire and Vardy together with some samples of porcelain mourning brooches. I will tell my maid to expect a Miss Saltmire.

  Yours in confidence

  Mina Scarletti

  Richard liked to call on Mina several times a day, if only for a respite from his mother’s melancholy. Louisa Scarletti’s doleful outpourings were particularly torn between Mina’s close brush with death and Enid’s forthcoming confinement, which she saw as tantamount to the same thing, but her mood always lightened when she clung to the arm of her handsome younger son, declaring him to be the best of the family, and their meetings always ended with tears of maternal pride and a small monetary donation.

  On the morning after Mr Merridew’s visit, however, Richard did not appear at Mina’s side after breakfast and when his absence continued throughout the day she began to worry. Which was worse, she wondered, having him idling about the house or out in the town where she had no idea what he was doing?

  Her worries were interrupted by the arrival of a letter from Mr Merridew.

  Dear Miss Scarletti,

  I could, if I were so inclined compose a sensational novel or a drama regarding my attendance at Mrs Barnham’s circle last night. I am engaged for this afternoon and early evening, but if it is not too late, I will call on you at 8pm and tell you all.

  Respectfully,

  Marcus Merridew

  As Mina replied to Mr Merridew’s letter, she was doubly anxious for her brother to be home so she might converse with her visitor unencumbered, so it was to her considerable relief that Richard returned in time for dinner, and when he called on Mina he was all smiles.

  ‘Mina my dear girl, you will be so proud of me,’ he said.

  They were alone since Miss Cherry had gone to get her dinner in the kitchen, and Richard took the opportunity to sit beside Mina on the bed which he would not have dared do under the nurse’s sharp eye.

  ‘You must never again say that I don’t listen to your advice. Today, I have been all over Brighton, walking here and walking there, in the most desperate of weather, to see what employment can be offered to a man of my talents. The air is still far too chill for you to venture out of doors but there are a host of fashionable persons out strolling or driving whenever the sun chooses to appear and the whole effect is very colourful. And
I have something for you.’ He handed her a copy of the Gazette. ‘There is nothing very interesting in it, I am sorry to say. Now that that awful poisoning woman has been declared insane, and we are disappointed of a hanging, the newspapers have wrung the case dry of all excitement and turned to politics. So that is Brighton scandal done for the year.’

  ‘I hope you kept to the respectable part of town,’ said Mina, receiving the gift eagerly. ‘I read the most dreadful tales of beer houses as little more than dens of drunkenness and bad behaviour. I don’t want to learn about your adventures in the police court column.’

  Richard professed to be shocked at the suggestion. ‘Would I ever get into trouble of that kind?’

  ‘Yes, Richard, you would, and I am telling you not to.’

  He put his hand on his heart. ‘I promise faithfully to be a model of virtue. But there is news of another sort — would you believe I saw a friend of ours while I was out and about?’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I was in Ship Street when I chanced on Mr Beckler the photographer.’

  Mina frowned but chewed her lip and remained silent.

  ‘He was handing out cards to passers-by advertising his new business,’ Richard continued. ‘I stopped to say hallo, and he told me he is still trying to photograph ghosts but has made no progress with it. Until he succeeds, he has to rely on making portraits of the living or corpses. He makes them look so alike. He has a nice little shop of his own, very tidy and clean with portraits in the window of eminent persons. And you might be interested to know that he is displaying a very large one of his nefarious patron Mr Arthur Wallace Hope, who has just brought out another book, Adventures with the Spirits. I saw copies of it piled high in all the book shops and selling fast. And his African Quest has a brand-new edition.’

  Mina did not care to be reminded of Mr Hope’s self-aggrandising and best-selling publications but said nothing.

  ‘You know I have often thought I ought to write a book,’ mused Richard. ‘It seems like a very good way of making a lot of money. I mean, you must do very well from all those stories you write.’

  ‘Oh, if you only knew,’ she replied.

  ‘But you need not worry that you will encounter that creature again for some while, as according to Beckler he has just sailed for Africa again, determined to discover the whereabouts of Dr Livingstone. Really, a man as clever as Dr Livingstone must only be missing because he does not want to be found, at least not by Mr Hope. I suspect the good doctor would not wish to be advanced upon and browbeaten into spiritualism in the middle of a jungle where I am sure he has other things on his mind. I am pleased for Nellie’s sake, too, that Mr Hope is gone, as she should not have to suffer that man’s vile attentions again. I do wonder, you know, can Mr Beckler be aware of Mr Hope’s reputation? Surely not.’

  ‘Nowadays wealth and position excuse everything,’ said Mina, coldly. ‘I am confident that Mr Beckler is perfectly content to accept Mr Hope’s patronage if it furthers his career.’

  ‘My dear girl,’ said Richard, in his most persuasive tone, ‘I know you don’t care for Mr Beckler, but I really do think he is fond of you. He was most upset when I told him that you had been unwell and said that he would like to call on you as soon as it was possible. Can I tell him you will receive him when you are better? I will be chaperone if you like.’

  Mina, unable to look her brother in the face, tightened her grip on the newspaper. ‘No, Richard. He is not to come here. I detest him.’

  ‘I don’t see why. He paid you some very nice compliments. I know you thought he was only flattering you to drum up business, but it was more than that, I’m sure of it. You should get to know him better.’

  Mina steeled herself. Would it be wise to tell Richard the truth about Mr Beckler? Could it ever be advisable to share information of that nature with her affectionate, foolish, impetuous brother, who was a stranger to considered thought? She had hesitated many times before, and always felt unable to reveal what she knew, but perhaps, after all, now was the time. ‘Richard, I —’ she paused, groping for the right words.

  ‘But here’s the thing, my dear girl, he went and offered me a position, and I have accepted. So now I have respectable employment. With a salary. I have just told Mother and she is so very pleased. Do say that you are, too.’

  Mina was momentarily speechless.

  Richard chuckled. ‘I can see you are surprised. You didn’t think I could succeed on my own so quickly, but you always underestimate me.’

  ‘But — you have no knowledge of photography,’ she protested weakly.

  ‘No, but I can learn,’ said Richard with a dismissive gesture. ‘I am quite clever with all sorts of things you know. And in the meantime, I will be busy handing out the advertising cards, making appointments and of course, flattering all the pretty ladies who are thinking of having their portraits taken.’

  Mina groaned inwardly. Much as it pained her, she now felt obliged to remain silent on the horrid Mr Beckler and his unforgivable behaviour. ‘When do you begin?’ she asked.

  ‘Monday morning, sharp. He has not abandoned his other business in Twickenham but leased it to another man. Here in Brighton he hopes to attract a more fashionable clientele. He’s a coming man, Mina. You could do far worse.’

  Mina took a few moments to calm herself before responding. ‘Richard, I want to make this very clear to you. I neither need nor want admirers. I have no intention of ever marrying.’

  He gave her an arch look, as if to imply that so firm a rebuttal was only evidence that she was about to change her mind. ‘We shall see,’ he said.

  Mina was about to tell him the secret that so few knew, that on medical grounds, the role of wife and mother had been forbidden her. If she had any regrets, she had consigned them to a place in her mind where they could not trouble her. She consoled herself with the thought that by rejecting the roles assumed to be the most desirable and appropriate for women, she had found a better and more stimulating life, with avenues of achievement she could not otherwise have envisaged.

  She could not allow herself any tender feelings other than those towards her family. Sincere friendships, she believed, could be better and more enduring than romantic illusions. Before she could reveal to Richard the truth that would put a stop to his constant and well-meaning hints, Rose came to the door and announced Mr Merridew.

  Before long, Mr Merridew was once again setting the scene, ready to recount what he had learned.

  ‘I arrived most carefully upon my hour. Little Maggie once again admitted me to the house, and I had brought a gift for her, a biscuit. She held it in her cupped hands and smelt it as if the baked aroma were the most heavenly scent in the world. For a moment I was afraid that she might actually faint, then she touched her lips to the edge of the treat and licked the sugar that clung to her mouth. ‘Thank you, Sir,’ she said, and then, in one undisguised moment, I saw a troubled look in her eyes.

  I drew back a little so as not to frighten her. ‘I mean only to be kind,’ I said, gently, ‘and if anyone is unkind to you, you must tell me at once.’

  She nodded silently.

  I was met at the door of Mrs Barnham’s apartments by Miss Stone. ‘Have you served Mrs Barnham for many years?’ I asked as I handed her my hat, coat and cane.

  She seemed surprised to be so addressed. ‘I have. She has been very kind to me,’ she whispered. ‘Not everyone would have offered employment to a woman like myself.’

  In the sitting room, which still had a lingering scent of hot rum, was a row of six straight backed chairs facing the cloth draped square table which had been drawn forward to change places with the circular breakfast table. Mrs Barnham was seated at the square table so that she faced the chairs, on the side opposite the disk-shaped device, the body of the table lying between herself and the visitors.

  ‘Mr Merridew, how delightful to see you again,’ said Mrs Barnham, as I greeted her before taking a seat. Miss Stone went to tend the fire. She did not, I
noticed, stir it into a blaze, but banked it well so that it would need no further attention for a while, then she placed a guard, a strong sheet of embossed brass styled with a sailing ship, in front of the hearth so that the dim firelight cast about the room was soft and sheltered.

  Two ladies arrived in company with each other, and I rose as they entered, making a deferential but not too extravagant bow and studied them as carefully as propriety would allow. I could see that they were friends, but from their appearance concluded that they were not related by blood. A tall lady, rather handsome, aged about forty-five was introduced as Mrs Vardy. She was well-dressed without being an ardent or frivolous devotee of fashion. Her companion, Mrs Wandle, was closer to seventy, shorter and stouter with features that were pleasant and regular although she could never have been a beauty even when young. Her gown was practical, and neither old nor new. Never having been kissed with fashion it was therefore impossible for it to be out of style. Despite their differences, I detected a close sympathy between the ladies, a sisterly affection, which suggested that each had suffered a loss that the other could understand.

  I was introduced.

  ‘Oh, Mr Merridew, it is such an honour to meet you,’ exclaimed Mrs Vardy. ‘The Gazette had high praise for your performance. Is your Hamlet still delighting and educating the town?’

  ‘I regret that the final curtain has already fallen on that production,’ I said, ‘but there will be others, and I can promise you that they will be select and tasteful to a fault.’

  We were seated.