by Amanda Quick
Otford attempted a shrug. “I have always found him to be extremely reliable.”
“And you put every interesting detail of Delmont’s murder into that story that you wrote for the Flying Intelligencer?”
“Of course.” Otford made a face. “I will confess that I had to liven it up a bit for the sake of creating interest—skirts pushed up above the dead woman’s knees in a lewd manner, supernatural forces at work and so forth—but there is nothing unusual about that. Done all the time in my business.”
“Yes, I gathered as much.”
Otford gave him a sly look. “If it’s details you want, perhaps you will get them from Julian Elsworth tomorrow afternoon.”
Caroline’s expression sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“Saw a notice posted at Wintersett House today. Elsworth is going to give a special consulting demonstration of his psychical powers to Inspector J. J. Jackson and members of the Society for Psychical Investigations.”
“How is Jackson involved?” Adam asked.
“Elsworth claims that he may be able to use his gifts to assist in the investigation of Delmont’s and Toller’s murders.” Otford snorted. “Should be amusing, don’t you think? Imagine the police turning to a person who claims to possess psychical powers to help solve a crime.”
Adam released him. “Off with you, Otford. Do not let me find you following me again. I will not be so good-natured about it the next time.”
Otford straightened his tie, adjusted his hat and stalked away into the fog.
Caroline looked at Adam. “It seems certain now that the bloodied wedding veil and the mourning brooch were not left out of the press accounts by accident. And you have convinced me that they were unlikely to have been stolen by a common thief.”
Adam watched Otford vanish into the mist. “There is only one explanation for this. Someone found Delmont’s body after I did and removed the veil and brooch. The question is why?”
“Can I assume that we will be attending Julian Elsworth’s consulting demonstration of psychical powers tomorrow afternoon at Wintersett House?”
“I would not dream of missing it. You have told me that I must keep an open and inquiring mind when it comes to this psychical nonsense.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
The lecture hall was filled to overflowing the following day. Caroline and Adam barely managed to secure the last two seats in the back row.
“Elsworth certainly knows how to draw a crowd,” Adam growled, settling into the chair next to Caroline. “I will give him credit for his theatrical talents.”
“I told you that he was highly regarded among those who study psychical matters,” Caroline said. She surveyed the murmuring audience and saw a familiar face. “Look, there’s Mr. Otford. He is standing on the side, together with a number of other gentlemen. They are all holding notebooks and pencils. They must be correspondents.”
Adam followed her gaze and shook his head in mild disgust. “This ridiculous séance is going to be a waste of time as far as the police are concerned but it will no doubt sell a great many newspapers.”
“Stop grumbling, Adam. You wanted to come here today.”
“I could hardly ignore the opportunity to watch Elsworth in action.”
Something in his voice caught her attention. “You do not like him, do you? Why is that? You only met him on one occasion and he did nothing to offend.”
“I don’t trust him. Blame it on masculine intuition.”
An odd thought struck her. “Adam?”
“Yes?” He did not look at her. He was occupied with an examination of the crowd.
“Are you by any chance jealous of Mr. Elsworth?”
There was a short, disturbing pause.
“Do I have reason to be?” he asked in a very neutral manner.
“No, of course not.”
“I’m pleased to hear that. Might be difficult to compete with a man who can levitate chairs and read minds.”
The slight change in his tone allowed her to relax. If not actually jealous, Adam had, at the very least, been concerned about the possibility that she possessed warm feelings for Elsworth. She must not place too much stock in that. Nevertheless, she felt her mood lift.
“Never fear, sir,” she said. “I have no doubt that if it proved necessary, you could levitate a chair or read a mind.”
He gave her a quick, searching look. But whatever he might have said in response was lost forever because at that moment the curtain parted and a man walked out onto the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer intoned. “Your attention, please. As you know, Mr. Elsworth has generously agreed to make his unique psychical gifts available to the police for the purpose of attempting to solve the recent shocking murders of two mediums. He is willing to allow those of you in the audience to witness his efforts but he insists that there be no talking or unnecessary noise during the séance. No one is to enter or leave the room. The unique nature of the psychical forces Mr. Elsworth employs are extremely delicate and fragile. They can be severely hindered by loud sounds or too much activity.”
The crowd hushed immediately. An air of expectation gripped the room. Although she privately shared much of Adam’s skepticism, Caroline realized that she was tense with curiosity. What if Elsworth could obtain some clues through the use of psychical forces?
The lights dimmed, just as they had at the start of Irene Toller’s demonstration of the planchette but not quite so dramatically. They went down slowly this time, creating a gradual heightening of excitement in the chamber. Eventually only the lamp on the table at the front of the room still burned.
“Allow me to introduce Inspector J. J. Jackson, who will conduct the interview with Mr. Elsworth,” the announcer said.
The curtains opened again. Inspector Jackson walked out onto the stage. Caroline thought he looked decidedly ill at ease. Jackson acknowledged the audience with a curt nod and sat down on one of the two chairs at the table.
“I believe Mr. Elsworth is ready now,” the announcer said reverently. “Please, no applause. He has spent the past several hours preparing himself for this séance. He must maintain his concentration.”
Elsworth walked slowly through the curtains. The silver streak in his dark hair gleamed in the dim light. Although it was midafternoon, he was dressed in formal evening wear. His black tail coat and trousers were faultlessly tailored. His white shirt and bow tie were crisp and elegant.
The man knew his stage lighting, Caroline thought. In the glow of the single lamp, his aristocratic features were strongly etched and made even more dramatic.
She leaned forward, trying to get a better view. There was something odd about his eyes. She couldn’t be absolutely certain from this distance but it looked as though he was wearing theatrical makeup.
Adam touched her arm, making her start slightly. She turned her head. There was just enough light left to allow her to see his cold, scornful expression. He must have noticed Elsworth’s makeup.
When Elsworth approached the table, J. J. Jackson seemed to feel that some action was required of him. He stood quickly and then sat down just as abruptly. He is nervous, Caroline thought. She did not blame him.
“Inspector.” Elsworth’s deep, resonant voice rolled effortlessly through the room.
He greeted Jackson with a bow that, to Caroline’s mind, bordered on mocking. Then he took his seat.
“Mr. Elsworth.” Jackson’s voice was thin and self-conscious. “Appreciate your assistance in this matter.”
Elsworth inclined his head again, reached out and turned the lamp down so low that his starkly illuminated face was the only thing clearly visible to the audience. J. J. Jackson was reduced to a stiff shadow.
“I will do my best to aid the police in their search for the person who murdered Mrs. Toller and Mrs. Delmont, Inspector,” Elsworth said. “I consider it my duty. Please ask your questions.”
Jackson cleared his throat several times, pulled out a notebook and flipped through
the pages.
“Can you, ah, speak to the spirits of Mrs. Toller and Mrs. Delmont, sir?” he asked, sounding awkward. “Perhaps ask them to identify their killer?”
“No,” Elsworth said. “I do not work that way. I am not a traditional sort of medium. I cannot contact the spirit world in the manner that Toller and Delmont claimed to be able to do. Frankly, I do not believe that it is possible to summon phantoms and ghosts from the Other Side.”
In spite of the announcer’s admonition, there were several murmured gasps of astonishment from the audience.
“My psychical powers are quite different from those of the average medium,” Elsworth continued. “I cannot fully describe my metaphysical gifts to those who lack such talents themselves. Suffice it to say that, when I go into a trance, I am able to perceive things in a manner that goes far beyond the normal senses.”
“Well, then, sir, can you perceive the face of the killer?” Jackson asked.
“Not as though I were looking at a photograph,” Elsworth said. “But if you have the items that I asked you to procure for me, I might be able to tell you something of the individual who perpetrated these crimes.”
“Yes, sir.” Jackson reached into his pocket and withdrew a small object. “This is one of Mrs. Delmont’s earrings.” He plucked a square of embroidered linen out of a second pocket. “And this handkerchief belonged to Mrs. Toller.”
“Thank you.” Elsworth picked up the earring and the handkerchief and closed his eyes. “Please give me a moment to focus my powers.”
Silence throbbed heavily in the room. After a moment, Elsworth opened his eyes and stared intently out across the crowded chamber as though he could see through the heavy shadows.
As she watched, Caroline could have sworn that his features seemed to grow more taut. His eyes darkened into eerie pools.
“Rage,” Elsworth whispered. “The killer is a man in the grip of a great mad fury. I see him now in Mrs. Toller’s house, striking blow after blow. He has killed once before. It has given him a dreadful courage. He knows that this time it will be easier and more satisfying.”
He stopped speaking abruptly.
An audible shudder went through the audience.
Inspector Jackson seemed uncertain about how to proceed. “Can you, uh, tell me why the killer is so enraged with Mrs. Toller, sir?”
“He believes that they deceived him,” Elsworth said in mesmeric tones.
Caroline felt Adam shift slightly in the chair beside her. He leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs, suddenly very intent.
“In what way did the mediums deceive the killer?” Jackson asked, sounding more like a policeman now.
“Both claimed that they could communicate with the spirit world but both lied.”
Jackson took out a pencil. “Can you supply any of the particulars concerning these lies, sir?”
Elsworth sat perfectly still for a long moment.
“In the course of the séances they gave him he asked questions that only the spirit could have answered correctly,” he said at last. “Toller and Delmont gave the wrong responses, so he knew for certain that they were frauds. In his fury, he decided to punish them.”
“The killer attended sittings with each of the mediums, sir?” Jackson displayed real eagerness for the first time. “Is that what you’re saying?”
Elsworth hesitated. “So it appears.”
Astonishment whispered across the room.
Caroline could feel Adam’s alert tension. He and Jackson were both displaying similar reactions to the clue that Elsworth had just offered. Both men reminded her of hunters who had caught the spoor of their prey. It occurred to her that, had he not found his way into Polite Society, Adam might have made an excellent detective.
“Would this have been a recent sitting?” Jackson pressed. “Can you provide a date?”
“I’m afraid not.” Elsworth appeared abruptly overcome with weariness. Raising his hands, he massaged his temples. “That is all I can do for you today, Inspector. I regret to say that I cannot provide more information. But the exercise of my powers in this extremely intense manner drains me of strength quite rapidly.”
“You’ve been very helpful, sir,” Jackson said. “Very helpful, indeed. If you’re correct, we’re looking for a sitter who attended séances with both Mrs. Toller and Mrs. Delmont. That should help narrow the list of suspects.”
“Not bloody likely,” Adam said half under his breath. The air of keen attention left him as quickly as it had come. He relaxed back into his chair. “The man’s a complete fraud, just as I thought.”
The audience buzzed softly as people discussed the revelation. On stage, the announcer stepped forward.
“Mr. Elsworth has concluded his exhibition of psychical powers. He thanks you all for your attention.”
A round of applause went up across the room. Caroline saw Otford and the other gentlemen of the press surge toward the doors. On stage, Elsworth rose, bowed to the crowd and then vanished through the curtains, leaving Jackson alone.
The inspector glanced around, as though not sure what to do next. Then he rose and hurried away off stage.
The lights came up. Caroline noticed that Adam was studying the empty stage with a pensive expression.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“It occurs to me that Mr. Elsworth has just provided an interesting distraction for the police. I expect that Inspector Jackson is about to waste a great deal of time trying to obtain the names of all of the male sitters who attended séances conducted by both victims. If he does manage to identify some, he will then have to carry out extensive investigations to see if any of them had motives or alibis. It will be a very lengthy and no doubt futile process.”
“You are assuming that Mr. Elsworth’s psychical powers are not genuine.”
“Very insightful of you, my dear. That is precisely what I am assuming.” Adam got to his feet and reached down to draw her up alongside him.
“But why would he go to the trouble of inventing clues? Surely the falsehoods will come back to hurt his credibility when the real killer is found.”
He took her arm and guided her toward the door. “There are two possibilities. The first is that Elsworth is going with the odds.”
“Which odds?”
“The ones that favor the unlikelihood of the police ever catching the murderer. After all, it won’t be Elsworth’s fault if the inspector never finds his man, will it? He did his best as a psychical consultant.”
“Good point. What is the second possibility?”
Adam’s expression hardened. “That Elsworth knows something about the murders and used today’s entertainment to create confusion and misdirection.”
She was shocked to the core. “Are you suggesting that Mr. Elsworth is involved in the murders?”
“Mrs. Fordyce. Please wait a moment. I must speak with you.”
Julian Elsworth spoke from somewhere in the hallway behind Caroline and Adam. They stopped quickly. Caroline was very aware of Adam’s hand tightening reflexively around her arm, as though he wanted to pull her out of the reach of the other man.
Julian strode toward them, handsome features set in an urgent expression. He had managed to remove most of the makeup around his eyes, Caroline noticed, but he had obviously rushed the task. There were slight traces and smears left.
He halted in front of them and gave Adam a mocking inclination of his head. “Mr. Hardesty, I believe. I don’t know how it came about but I somehow managed to get your name wrong at our last meeting. I could have sworn that you called yourself Mr. Grove.”
“No need to concern yourself with the mistake, Elsworth,” Adam said dryly. “These things happen. I assure you I took no offense.”
Julian smiled derisively. “I am relieved to hear that. I expect you had your reasons for ensuring that the mistake got made in the first place.” He turned to Caroline. “I am honored that you chose to attend my demonstration this afternoon.”
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“I found it quite fascinating,” Caroline said.
“Thank you,” Julian said. He lowered his voice. “I became aware of your presence in the course of my trance a few moments ago. I sensed you out there in the darkness and I realized that I had to warn you.”
“Warn her of what?” Adam asked.
Julian ignored him. “When I saw you in my trance, Mrs. Fordyce, I became aware that you are in grave danger.”
“I beg your pardon?” she whispered.
Adam took half a step forward. Caroline sensed the controlled menace emanating from him.
“If you have something important to say, Elsworth, be specific,” Adam said.
Elsworth’s mouth thinned. “I regret I cannot provide you with any other details. I can only tell you that during the trance, I became aware of an aura of great danger closing in upon Mrs. Fordyce.” He looked at Caroline, clearly troubled. “I only wish that I could define the threat more precisely for you, madam.”
“That would certainly be a good deal more helpful,” Adam said, still speaking far too softly. “It would also make you appear somewhat less of a fraud.”
Elsworth paid no attention to him. He focused intently on Caroline. “I can only urge you to be extremely cautious, Mrs. Fordyce. Do not trust anyone with whom you have not been well acquainted for a very long time.”
He slid his gaze toward Adam in an unsubtle, insinuating manner. Then, turning on his heel, he strode rapidly away down the corridor.
Adam watched him go. “Bastard. He was warning you off me.”
“Yes, along with anyone else I do not know well, which includes any number of people.” She tapped her fan idly against her palm. “What reason could he have for doing that, do you think?”
“Distraction.”
She did not like the way he said the single word. “Do you really believe that he may be the killer?”
“I think it is a distinct possibility, yes.”
“But what motive would he have had for murdering Mrs. Toller and Mrs. Delmont?”
“There is money involved in this thing. I have always found that it provides a near-universal motive for any sort of crime.”