The Cyanide Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 6)

by Linda Stratmann

  The dinner bell was rung, and the families assembled, all exhibiting an extreme of civility.

  The fare at family dinners for the Scarlettis was variable in nature. Mina always received advance notice of what was to arrive at table, but this did not dispel her uncertainty on the subject. Dining pleasure depended on whether cook had suddenly taken it into her head to strive for an elegance that was not her forte or had bowed to the inevitable and determined on solidity and quantity, at both of which she excelled. The recent influx of visitors had easily decided her on the latter approach, for which Mina was grateful. With eight people at table, the platters and tureens were large, the aromas inviting and the portions generous.

  Mina’s mother, taking her rightful place at the head of the table, was in her element, dispensing in queenly fashion wisdom, advice and instructions in equal measure. The rest of the company ate silently during her monologues, adding their own observations whenever she was temporarily silenced by food or drink. Any diversion into subjects she had no interest in were doomed to be interrupted. Mina said almost nothing but listened.

  Miss Hooper, resplendent in summer yellow and silk daisies, had a pretty figure which she took care to maintain. All her eating and drinking was in small sips and bites. It was a very deliberate and practised restraint. Mina could not help but wonder if, once safely married, the new Mrs Edward Scarletti would be more liberal when dining.

  ‘I assume,’ said Edward, during one of his mother’s pauses, ‘that Mr Mayall will be taking the photographs to record the betrothal?’

  ‘No, no,’ said Mrs Scarletti, waving a laden fork and shaking her head in an emphatic manner which admitted of no contradiction. ‘I have engaged Mr Beckler of Ship Street. He is a very enterprising young man who has purchased the business of the late Mr Simpson and taken Richard as a partner. Richard is a wonderful photographer; he will rival Mr Mayall one day!’

  Miss Hooper allowed a quizzical look to briefly wrinkle her creamy forehead but sensibly made no attempt to protest. She glanced at Edward, who merely grunted.

  ‘Photography is a very exacting business, you know,’ said Mrs Scarletti. ‘The camera is quite an extraordinary machine. It is all done with sunlight and glass. And then the pictures just appear on paper.’

  ‘I hope you are careful with the chemicals, Richard,’ said Edward.

  ‘Chemicals?’ queried Mrs Scarletti. ‘I never saw any. You must be mistaken, Edward. The pictures are made by sunshine, and that is quite safe in moderation.’

  Edward opened his mouth but wisely closed it again.

  Once dinner was done, Edward seized the opportunity of taking Mina aside for a private talk. ‘Whatever Mother might imagine, I am well aware that photographers carry large stocks of poisonous chemicals. Only last year one of Mayall’s employees, a man he had dismissed because of his addiction to intoxicating liquor, took a terrible revenge. He damaged hundreds of pounds worth of equipment with a hammer and then stole a bottle of potassium cyanide, about four or five pounds of it, and consumed some with the result one might expect. I’m not saying Richard would do anything of the sort and I didn’t want to discuss it in front of Mother, but he is so very careless.’

  ‘You were right to say nothing to Mother,’ said Mina. ‘But please don’t be concerned. Mr Beckler knows Richard better than you might think and does not entrust him with anything dangerous or fragile. His role in the business is far humbler than Mother likes to imagine.’

  ‘Well, that is a relief. You know that Mr Mayall’s son Edwin died just a few months ago? The poor fellow was only a few years older than me. He had been extremely ill for a very long time. Who knows what caused it? But I am confident that Richard’s employment will go the way of all the others, as he is likely to get bored before long and look for something else. Either that or Beckler will realise he is not worth the pay and terminate the arrangement.’

  Mina said nothing, but she thought the latter eventuality unlikely. She felt sure that Mr Beckler’s offer of employment to Richard was nothing to do with his qualities and experience, but everything to do with herself. Either he wished to ingratiate himself with her or he was planning to carry out another horrid scheme at Mr Hope’s command. She attached no good intentions to the warning he had sent her, which could simply be another way of earning her trust.

  That led her to consider the list of cemetery monuments Richard had sketched for his employer, which lay forgotten in her room. Was this merely a business venture or was it evidence of a more sinister design? Richard’s involvement was a concern, and she knew she had to find out more.

  Later, when she was alone in her room, Mina made a careful study of the most recent directory of Brighton. She was looking for the surnames of the people on Richard’s list of burials which were unknown to her. The directory was not an exhaustive list of inhabitants, but only the names of householders and businesses, but it did offer some clues. She soon found several persons who might well be related to the deceased on the list. Regarding the late Bertram Veale, there was a company, Veale and Sons which owned two confectioner’s shops. Hector Samprey could well be related to brothers Mortimer and Charles Samprey who were in partnership as property agents. The late Frederick Soules might have been the father of Soules Brothers, manufacturing chemists. There was no one listed, however, of the surname Porterson-White, or Mulgrew.

  Mina’s late father, Henry Scarletti, had been buried in the Extra Mural Cemetery and the family had been provided with a booklet about its history. This included a map showing its areas and pathways on which they had marked the place where the grave was located. Given the information on Richard’s list, Mina felt sure she would be able to locate the family plots of the named individuals.

  For a brief moment Mina wondered if she was being too suspicious. If any other photographer had been involved, she might have assumed it was nothing other than a means of promoting his business. Then she pushed the doubts aside. She recalled with distaste her first meeting with Mr Beckler at Hollow House, his sickly smiles, his fawning insincere compliments, the way his thin form had hunched over her like a threat. Then there was his obvious adulation of Arthur Wallace Hope and willingness to do any despicable thing for the man who Mina knew was bent on destroying her reputation.

  Even with Mr Hope abroad, his influence had long tendrils and Mina had no doubts that Mr Beckler was engaged on some project designed to please his master on his return. The enterprise probably did not directly concern her, but she feared that it might be something underhand, possibly even criminal, in which her brother was now innocently playing a part. She needed to know more, to be forearmed in case Mr Beckler’s plans were exposed and Richard was left to take the blame.

  Mina did not wish to write on the printed map, but she used a page in her notebook to draw a sufficiently good copy of it, on which she marked the approximate location of the eight graves. She wondered if there might be some pattern to the locations, but if there was she could not make it out. They were not especially close to each other and were in more than one section of the cemetery.

  She decided to pay a visit as soon as there was time, most probably after the betrothal party. It would be an ideal opportunity to see Nellie again.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mina had an appointment the following morning for her regular vapour bath and massage at Dr Hamid’s emporium. Her mother did not usually object to these visits, but on that occasion, she protested that Mina should not even think of leaving the house at such an important time when she was so desperately needed. Mina, however, would not be dissuaded. She pointed out that she required regular treatment to ease her pinched back muscles, adding that she would look all the fresher for her photograph. Louisa gave her a sour look, and muttered dissatisfaction, but Mina held firm and departed.

  The Indian vapour baths were a haven of peace and restoration to Mina. Once a week, wrapped in warm scented linen, she rested in a cloud of herbal fragrance, feeling all the tensions and worries of her lif
e float far away, and the tightness in her strained muscles slowly disappear.

  Afterwards, Dr Hamid’s sister, Anna, used perfumed oils to massage her back and limbs with strong yet sensitive fingers. During Mina’s weeks of recovery from her recent illness, Anna had come to her home to deliver this treatment. It was these ministrations, and Anna’s guidance on gently stimulating exercises appropriate for an invalid, that had prevented the long period of inactivity from wasting Mina’s already small frame, and speeded her return to health.

  She had recently once again been able to take up the practice of calisthenics, which had been too strenuous for her during her illness. Under Anna Hamid’s careful supervision, she undertook a quota of exercise once a week, and this was supplemented by the daily use of little dumbbells at home, which she kept hidden at the bottom of her wardrobe. She was still not as strong as she had once been but was confident that a full recovery would only take a matter of time.

  Once her treatment was done, Mina called upon Dr Hamid, her medical advisor and friend. He was the only doctor she trusted, since inspired by the example of his late sister Eliza, he had made a special study of scoliosis. He knew better than anyone else what might relieve Mina’s pain and discomfort, and importantly he would notice the early signs of any deterioration which another man might not see. They both knew that improvement in scoliosis was not a possibility, and the best that she might hope for was an endurable stability.

  He also took note of other circumstances that might affect her state of health. Having become acquainted with her family, he was well aware of the anxieties they provoked and the demands they made on Mina’s fragile physical strength. Last January he had accompanied Mina and Nellie Jordan to Hollow House, where his efforts to protect and treat the residents during a time of crisis had reached heroic levels. More recently, he had attended Mina with great care when fever and breathlessness had brought her dangerously close to death. When she was first able to go out in the fresh air, he had kindly taken her out in a bath chair to enjoy the spring weather.

  When Mina called at Dr Hamid’s office, he studied her outward appearance intently as he always did. He then carried out his usual examination with particular attention to the function of her lungs and pronounced himself satisfied with her progress. Nevertheless, having put away his stethoscope and noted her temperature and pulse, he sat back and observed her demeanour.

  ‘You have something troubling you,’ he said. ‘I can guess what it is: the arrangements for your brother’s betrothal, and the arrival of your family. This is too much for you to deal with without support, especially at present. I often feel they take too great an advantage of your willingness and your undoubted competence.’

  Mina gave a resigned smile. ‘Thank you. They do, I know, but Mother’s demands would be even greater if I neglected to do what I can. But I have planned only a simple gathering, a luncheon for immediate family. And as far as is possible all the arrangements have been made, although to hear my mother speak of it you might imagine that nothing at all has been done and it has been left entirely to her. However, now that the grandchildren are with us, she is finding some pleasure in life. And Enid is content with her lot at last. At least she no longer complains of it, which is the main thing.’

  ‘Your mother makes great efforts to keep you at home.’

  ‘She does. It is my place. She makes that very clear.’

  Dr Hamid looked regretful but said nothing further on the subject. ‘Then what is troubling you? Is it something I can at least advise on? If not as a doctor than as a friend.’

  Mina took a deep breath. ‘You know better than anyone my history of conflict with Mr Hope.’

  ‘Yes, and I was relieved when he departed for Africa.’

  ‘Unfortunately, I have just learned that having failed to find Dr Livingstone, he has abandoned the expedition and is returning to England.’

  He gave a little grunt of annoyance. ‘That is bad news, but surely he would not dare come to Brighton.’

  ‘That is his intention. He has a protégé here, after all.’

  ‘Ah, yes. I see,’ said Dr Hamid, looking perturbed at the mention of Mr Beckler. ‘Well, I trust that you will be able to avoid him, and whatever happens, if there is anything I can do to keep you safe from him, you must let me know at once. If we are fortunate, the visit will be a short one.’ He attempted an encouraging smile.

  ‘Thank you. But —’ she sighed. ‘There is another thing.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I suppose what troubles me most at present is Richard.’

  The smile vanished. ‘Oh. Is he still working in Ship Street?’

  ‘He is.’

  ‘I hope that Mr Beckler has not continued to annoy you.’

  ‘Not as such. I think he wishes to be better acquainted with me, but that possibility is long past.’

  ‘You made it very apparent at Hollow House that you did not receive his attentions with any pleasure.’

  ‘I did not. And I told him as much.’

  ‘I am extremely surprised, given the circumstances, that your brother agreed to work for him.’

  ‘I am sorry to say that that is my fault.’

  ‘It is? Do explain.’

  ‘As you know, Richard had been working for the family business in London, but then he — he left that employment.’

  Dr Hamid tilted an eyebrow, showing he could easily guess the circumstances of Richard’s departure from Scarletti Publishing, but he made no comment.

  ‘When he came to stay with us, and I discovered that he was no longer employed, I urged him to find an honest position in Brighton. Before I knew it, he had been offered a position at Mr Beckler’s new business and accepted it. If I was to tell Richard how I really regarded Mr Beckler, I am not sure what he would do. And finding work in Brighton which enabled him to stay with us was something that delighted my mother and still does. So — I had no alternative — I decided to put my personal feelings aside, for my family’s sake.’ Despite her best efforts, Mina felt a shudder run through her.

  Dr Hamid stared at her. ‘You are trembling. Are you cold?’

  For a moment Mina found herself unable to speak. She shook her head. He leaped out of his seat and poured a glass of her favourite aerated fruit and herb water and pressed it into her hand. ‘Drink,’ he ordered. ‘Short regular sips. Now.’

  Mina obeyed, hearing her teeth rattle against the glass.

  Dr Hamid sat down and regarded her keenly. ‘Now then,’ he said. ‘There is more. I must know it if I am to be of any assistance.’

  She nodded. ‘I have told no one of this,’ she whispered.

  He waited.

  She put the glass down and composed herself. ‘When Mr Beckler flattered me at Hollow House, I assumed at first that he always spoke that way to ladies, to bring custom to his business. But then I discovered that I was the only person to whom he was paying such close attention. Richard thought that he admired me and wished to court me, that he had honest intentions. I am sorry to say that my silence on the subject has allowed my brother to continue to think that. But I saw through Mr Beckler’s scheme. He is the creature of Mr Hope, and Mr Hope wishes to destroy me or at least stop me from opposing him.’

  ‘You mean it was all Hope’s doing?’ exclaimed Dr Hamid. ‘Hope sent Mr Beckler to court you? Did he think that marriage would so occupy you that you would no longer hinder him?’

  Mina bit her lips to calm herself. ‘No. Mr Beckler was not ordered to marry me. That was never the intention. He was ordered to ruin me. To destroy my reputation. When I realised this, I confronted him and — he did not deny it.’

  Dr Hamid could not restrain a gasp of horror. ‘Please tell me he did not —?’ For a moment, words eluded him.

  ‘No, no,’ she reassured him, ‘it never went that far; there were only words spoken that disguised his true intent. Oh, I think Mr Beckler regrets his actions, indeed he apologised to me, although it is impossible to know how sincere he is, but
no apology can ever change the fact that he was prepared to obey his master. And now Mr Hope is on his way back to Brighton. And I really don’t know what will happen next.’

  Dr Hamid was trying to control his emotions, but he was gripping the arms of his chair so tightly that the veins on the backs of his hands looked ready to burst from his skin. He calmed himself with a great effort. ‘I agree that it was wise not to tell your brother; he is — impetuous to say the least, and who knows what he might do.’ There was a pause while he collected his thoughts. ‘Very well. We must try and learn all we can about Mr Hope’s intentions, and how he might act against you or employ his associate in another disreputable scheme. You cannot of course engage your brother in that respect, but he might well let something slip in conversation.’

  ‘Richard thinks I should protect myself by pretending to agree with Mr Hope’s ideas,’ said Mina.

  Dr Hamid shook his head. ‘I would not ask you to compromise your beliefs. I know you would never do that, nor should you. But it would be best not to place yourself in a position where you will feel obliged to oppose Mr Hope’s wishes. In fact, it is best to stay well away from both of them.’

  ‘I will do my best,’ said Mina, ‘but I am also very afraid that Mr Beckler might be engaged in some dubious business enterprise in which Richard is involved.’

  ‘Miss Scarletti,’ said Dr Hamid, impatiently, ‘it is very commendable that you constantly try to protect your brother from the consequences of his own actions, but he is an adult, he is what — twenty-five, a man, and not a child. You cannot protect him forever. He will learn nothing in life if he goes through it in this way, always being rescued from his own foolhardiness either by you or your mother. And then if or rather when he falls, it will be the harder for him.’