‘Not at all.’
‘Why are men always so quarrelsome?’ said Mrs Scarletti. ‘They should have asked me. I could have told them what to do.’
‘I assume the cousins are responsible for the upkeep of the grave?’ said Mina.
‘I expect so,’ said Mr Inskip.
‘They might have paid her more reverence.’
‘I suppose they didn’t want to spend any more than they were obliged to. Neither is especially wealthy, and both have taken out large loans in anticipation of the legacy in order to pay their legal men.’
‘What a horrid family!’ said Mrs Scarletti. ‘I am glad not to know them, for all their fortune.’
‘If there had been a will,’ said Mina thoughtfully, ‘then someone would have drawn it up and witnessed it. Was there no solicitor?’
‘Not that anyone can discover,’ said Mr Inskip. ‘I believe the lady is supposed to have composed it herself. Wills may take a very simple form and still be quite legal. If it was witnessed, then it must have been done by the two aged servants who predeceased her and left no note of the event.’
Edward looked at his watch. ‘We must send Rose to order the cab,’ he said.
As soon as Mina had finished breakfast, she returned to her bedroom and took out her notebook, jotting down an idea for a new story. Missing will, brothers in dispute — duel — death — haunting. She had not devised a suitable ending but given the subject matter did not think that either of the quarrelling relatives would survive.
CHAPTER TEN
Mina did not relish the prospect of going to Mr Beckler’s shop with her family in order to view the betrothal pictures, but reluctantly decided that she ought to be one of the party if only to keep an eye on her mother. She was fairly sure that the young photographer could have no romantic inclinations in that direction but feared that if he was invited to their home to take tea and saw how comfortably they lived, he might develop strong feelings for the Scarletti fortune. The contrast between the three-storey townhouse nestling in the pale elegance of Montpelier Road and his bachelor apartments above the shop was bound to engage his attention. She could already imagine him eyeing the furnishings and appraising them for value, guessing correctly that on being widowed Louisa had inherited the house and contents for her lifetime use. Therefore, Mina, having determined only a few months ago never to set eyes on the loathsome man again if she could possibly help it, found herself about to visit his shop for the third time in a week.
Edward had spent much of the morning in a state of barely concealed frustration, supervising the packing of his bags with the intention of heading to the railway station as soon as the business at the shop was completed. When the cab arrived to convey Mina, her mother, Enid and Edward to Ship Street, he almost vaulted into it and fidgeted impatiently all the way to their destination. Mr Inskip, announcing what a fine, bright day it was, elected to walk, and strode away energetically.
There was a new notice in the shop window, a large printed card with a decorative border announcing that ‘Lady Brighthelm’, the famous Brighton seer and mystic was available for consultation within, mornings and afternoons, by appointment only. There was a portrait of the lady, a close image showing only the upper part of her form and head. She was seated at her consulting table, leaning slightly forward in an intent yet confiding manner. The table was littered with small gewgaws and trinkets.
The new medium must have been uncertain as to which of her jewellery to wear since when dressing for her portrait she had decided to wear all of it. Multiple necklaces covered her bosom, while her hands were fat with rings, her arms heavy with bracelets. A thick veil completely covered her face, so that only the glint of her eyes could be seen. Lady Brighthelm could therefore ply her trade invisible, unrecognised, although Mina thought it would be hard for her to conceal her true identity once she opened her mouth.
When the little party arrived, Miss Hooper and Mrs Gostelow were already at the shop. They were deep in consideration of suitable frames, studying the catalogues Richard was showing them with grave attention, and pointing out the most expensive items with mutual expressions of approval. Edward had no patience for this, and on being consulted assented at once to their choosing whatever most pleased them. Enid and her mother, while not being especially interested in the display of photographs, pretended to be in order to pass the time.
‘I haven’t seen the pictures, yet,’ said Richard. ‘But I am told they are very remarkable.’
‘Has the mysterious Lady Brighthelm been much in demand?’ asked Mina.
‘She has, and her fame is growing. Some of her clients are grateful enough to bring her little gifts. But the best news is,’ he added confidentially, drawing Mina a little aside, ‘she may have a suitor. At least, she thinks she has. There is a young fellow who has visited her twice already, and he has just made another appointment, which to her way of thinking means they are engaged to be married, even though he is not yet aware of it. I have seen her practising her new signature, Mrs S Clover. She makes a very great fuss of the curls and flourishes, as there are so few opportunities in H Hartop.’
‘Do her clients actually leave their names?’
‘Most do not, but as she has a veil, she is able to see them while they cannot see her and some of them are undoubtedly known to her. That may be why she is able to tell their fortunes so convincingly.’
‘I doubt that she would dare to see me,’ said Mina.
‘You never can tell,’ said Richard, opening the appointment book and selecting a pencil. ‘Will tomorrow suit?’
‘I’ll let you know,’ said Mina. ‘After all, Mr Clover may have romanced her away by then, and she will be a one-day wonder.’
‘I don’t think he will,’ said Richard. ‘He is very young, he can’t be much above twenty, and he has only seen her through a veil. And he comes here with a worried face and goes away with the same face.’
Mr Inskip arrived, rubbing his hands together and pronouncing himself much refreshed by his walk. He had only just joined Enid in contemplation of the display and was wondering if he might ask to be pictured balancing on his velocipede, when Mr Beckler appeared and glanced about the shop, noting that all the party was present.
‘The prints are ready for your inspection,’ he said, ‘and they have been mounted on card. Please come to the office and select which ones you wish to have framed. I will in any case put copies into an album for you.’
‘You are so kind!’ exclaimed Mrs Scarletti.
There was something about Mr Beckler’s expression that put fear into Mina’s heart. When she ventured to glance at him, he was looking at her in a way very similar to that in which he had stared at her when they had first met at Hollow House. Cautiously, nervously, unsure of how their meeting might progress. She turned her face away quickly. He conducted the little party through the door at the rear and into a small office. Chairs had been provided for the ladies while the gentlemen were obliged to stand. A large portfolio case rested on a desk. Mina stared at the plain black surface of the portfolio and she was suddenly visited with a grim apprehension of what it might contain. Mr Beckler took his place and rested his long fingers on the desktop.
Once they were all assembled, he opened the portfolio carefully, reverentially, as a man might who was revealing some great treasure to the nation, and lifted the card-mounted image that lay on top, tilting it upright for all to see. It was the picture of Edward and Miss Hooper. Everyone nodded and Mina’s mother said how very fine it was and how the flowers in the posy looked so fresh with a careful emphasis on the word ‘fresh’, and then she pressed a handkerchief to her eyes and reached out to Edward, who took her hand and patted her fingers.
The photograph was lifted out of the case and laid to one side. Each picture was interleaved with a layer of thin paper tissue to protect its glossy surface. One at a time, the photographer drew the tissue aside and revealed the next portrait. The picture of the Inskips was also admired, as were those of the affianced coup
le flanked by Mrs Scarletti and Mrs Gostelow and the entire betrothal party.
Mina, usually so secure in her own body with the size nature had made her was rarely aware of how small she was compared to others, and it was only in the group picture in which she appeared that she could see her frail lopsided form next to persons of the usual dimensions. Seeing herself through the eyes of others, she knew why she drew such looks of surprise and pity.
There was a short pause. One photograph remained. Mina peered into the portfolio but could not see the final image clearly through its translucent covering. ‘Before I show you this, I — er — I suggest you all prepare yourselves for what you will see in the last picture,’ said Mr Beckler. ‘It may come as something of a surprise.’
But Mina had already guessed what she was about to see. Through some craft, the nature of which she could not imagine, there would be a filmy shape, a cloudy indistinct presence on the image. Perhaps there might be more than just one, floating serenely in the air above the family group, without any great precision of feature, but only the mere suggestion of one male and one female. Mina’s mother would easily be able to delude herself into imagining that these were the spirits of her deceased loved ones, her husband Henry and her daughter Marianne, coming together to celebrate with them. Mina would have done anything to stop the viewing at that very moment, but she was powerless to do so.
Mr Beckler allowed the fine paper to drift away and raised the final portrait in the set. Everyone, including Mina, gasped. The Scarlettis stood in a row, Louisa Scarletti in the centre flanked by her four children, Edward and Richard on either side of their mother, then Enid and Mina at each end of the row. Beside Mina there stood another figure, that of her deceased father.
Mina was the first to move. She reached forward and took the picture. Mr Beckler made no attempt to dissuade her; in fact, it appeared from his expression that he had hoped for precisely this reaction.
This was no delusion, no filmy wisp of vapour, but a picture of great clarity. Much as Mina wished to deny it, and she tried very hard, there could be no doubt at all that she was gazing upon the image of her late father; not as he had been when they moved to Brighton, a semi-invalid, but in the full vigour and health of his forties. It was he without a doubt, the easy way he had of standing, one hand tucked into a pocket in an almost jaunty manner, suggesting that little spark of humour that was always ready to emerge from fatherly solemnity, the light of amusement in his eyes.
Mina dropped the picture back on the desk, biting the inside of her lips to try and stop herself from crying.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Edward. ‘What is this? How has this happened?’
‘Oh!’ gasped his mother, pulling her hand abruptly from Edward’s grasp and reaching out to touch the edge of the image with reverence.
Miss Hooper and Mrs Gostelow, neither of whom had met the late Henry Scarletti, glanced at each other and said nothing.
‘I do not recognise this gentleman,’ said Mr Beckler. ‘I have never met him, but I now gather that he is Mr Henry Scarletti?’
Louisa Scarletti gulped and nodded. Mina said nothing.
‘That is Father,’ said Enid. She pulled a sulky mouth. ‘Though I do not see why he comes to Edward’s betrothal and did not come to my wedding.’
‘He may well have done so,’ said Mr Beckler, ‘but you would not have been able to see him. It is the recent advances in the photographic art that have enabled this image to appear.’
Mrs Scarletti stared at the picture again, and indicated a faint pale thread hovering beside Enid. ‘Marianne,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Mr Beckler, I cannot thank you enough for what you have done! This picture brings such joy to my heart! How I ached to have all my dear ones around me on this day, and you have answered my prayers!’ She extended her hand towards the young photographer, a gesture of gratitude as if reaching to touch the figure of a saint, then withdrew with a nervous tremble.
Mina stared at the picture again. She felt sure that what her mother believed to be the spirit of Marianne was only light reflected from a fold in the curtain but decided to say nothing. If it added to her mother’s happiness, then nothing should be said. She glanced at Edward, who was staring at the picture with suspicion, but he also appeared to have decided not to comment, almost certainly for the same reason as Mina.
‘Frames,’ he said curtly. ‘Frames for all of them. Whatever Miss Hooper decides. We’ll take one of each. And an album.’ He handed his card to Mr Beckler. ‘Send them to this address with the invoice. Now I really must go.’
‘Yes,’ said Mina, glad at Edward’s breaking of the mood. ‘Frames and an album. Send them to me. I will settle the fee.’ She dropped her card on the desk and glanced at her mother, who was gazing speechlessly at the picture, her handkerchief clasped to her lips. ‘I must get Mother home at once.’
Edward nodded. ‘I will order a cab,’ he said and hurried from the office, the speed and determination of his stride marking his relief at leaving the premises.
‘I will see to your account,’ said Mr Beckler. He rose and returned to the shop. He was followed by Miss Hooper and her chaperone, saying that they intended to supervise the selection of frames.
Mina remained in the office with her mother. Enid, who despite reassurances had not got over her annoyance at being ignored by her father’s ghost, was being mollified by her husband. Richard, who must have been alerted by his employer to the results of the pictures, peered in. He stared at the image of his father in silent wonder before being hugged by his weeping mother.
Before long, Edward, Miss Hooper and Mrs Gostelow were on their way to the railway station, and the rest of the family went home. Mina’s only comfort in the horrible situation was that her mother had entirely forgotten to invite Mr Beckler to tea.
Mina found a letter awaiting her on her return home. Once her mother had been persuaded to take a nap assisted by a glass of warm milk with more than a touch of medicinal brandy, Mina opened her correspondence.
Phipps and Co
Solicitors
Middle Street
Brighton
Dear Miss Scarletti,
I do hope this finds you well. I hesitate to trouble you on a personal matter; however, there are areas of special study where you have demonstrated both expertise and sound common sense, and I would appreciate it if you permitted me to pay you a visit in order to seek your advice.
Sincerely,
R Phipps
Mina read this note with interest and not a little curiosity. She had often sought the professional advice of Mr Ronald Phipps, the youngest partner in the long-established firm, but for him to seek her advice was something of a novelty. She wondered what was troubling him and hoped that his recent betrothal to Miss Adeline Cherry was not the cause of any unhappiness. Miss Cherry had been a highly efficient day nurse in the Scarletti house during Mina’s illness, and when Mr Phipps had visited it was clear that he had been as much impressed by her professional skills as her attractive green eyes. He had engaged her as a nurse companion to his elderly aunt Mrs Phipps, a role in which she had quickly become essential to his family happiness. Their betrothal had been announced not long afterwards.
The last time Mina had seen Mr Phipps he had seemed very contented. She had been making the final arrangements for her will, in which she had left all her personal fortune, such as it was, to create a foundation for the care of people who, like herself, suffered from scoliosis. Dr Hamid, who was an expert on this condition, had agreed to make any arrangements, although he was taken aback by the prospect of dealing with her demise, since she was younger than he by some twenty years. He had agreed only on the condition that his eldest son, who was studying for a medical degree, might in the fullness of time be appointed to take over that duty as the event was, he hoped, not due to take place for very many years hence.
Mina was eager to take a closer look at the portrait of the late Aloysius Phipps that hung in the firm’s office, so when she re
plied to Mr Phipps to make an appointment she stated that since the house was busy with visitors, she would call and see him the following morning at his place of business. Given the events of the day, she dared not leave the house that afternoon in case she was urgently required by her mother.
Mrs Scarletti, having retired to her room, had failed to sleep, but lay on her bed, a turmoil of emotions, clutching in her hand the last portrait of Henry Scarletti, one taken long before his illness when they had celebrated their twentieth wedding anniversary. Mina’s presence might be demanded at any moment.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The following morning Mina was unsurprised to receive a letter from her older brother.
Scarletti Publishing
Regent Street
London
Dear Mina,
It was obvious to me as soon as I saw that outrageous picture that the photographer must be a great fraud. I don’t know if Mr Beckler is aware of this, but as a publisher I need to keep abreast of advances in photography and while I am no scientist, I know all too well the kinds of tricks that can be played on the unwary. However, I said nothing about it when we were in the shop, and I must implore you also to stay silent. It was obvious to us both that Mother was very pleased with the picture, and I would not wish to upset her or cause any disruption or quarrels, which I know it will do if either of us attempts to expose the scoundrel’s activities. I must also take into consideration that Richard is currently employed there. This may turn out to be a blessing or a curse, but either way it is sure to be of short duration.
I feel that we are of the same opinion on this matter; however, it would set my mind at rest if you would respond assuring me that you will take no action against Mr Beckler. I am sure I can rely on you to watch over Mother in case he makes any attempt to cheat her out of large sums of money. I would also ask you to try and ensure that Richard does not get into trouble, but I do not want to burden you with the impossible.
The Cyanide Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 6) Page 10