‘That is true,’ assented Mr Eve. ‘I have read widely upon the subject and I believe that the spirits must use a special form of electricity, one which we as mere mortal beings cannot understand.’
‘What does Mrs Barnham say?’ I asked.
Mrs Barnham gave a little smile. ‘Oh, I have been asked so many times to explain how the spirits communicate through me, but I am afraid I must disappoint you. That secret will only be apparent to me when I am a spirit myself. They have some means of taking possession of my brain and nerves, which deprives me of any control over my movements, and indeed once the séance is over my precise memory of the experience flies from me, so I could not describe to you how it feels to be so possessed, except that I am left with the impression that it is at once wearying and joyful.’
‘I disagree with Mr Eve, on the subject of electricity’ said Mr Cobbe. ‘Sparks cannot move a table. Neither can a bolt of lightning, although it might break it. It is the association of the spirits with the special aura of the medium which gives activity to an effluvium which causes the phenomena of movement.’
‘Ah, the gentlemen are all for explaining what is taking place without any thought as to the true value of what they receive,’ said Mrs Barnham. ‘You have witnessed proof that the mind never dies, that the spirit lives on, that there is no death. The man of science seeks fame and riches, but what is that brief pursuit of your earthly life in comparison to the ceaseless ages of your future existence with the angels?’
‘Science means nothing to me,’ said Mrs Vardy, harshly. ‘And I shall know happiness when I see my dear Jasper in heaven. All I ask is to be released from this misery of uncertainty and suspicion, of the whispers and the horrid insinuations, so that others will come to acknowledge the truth and allow me to live in peace until I ascend. Jasper assures me that he has passed, he has assured me of that for many years, but when I tell that to the doubters I am not believed, and there are those who deny the spirits altogether. They tell me that I am a fool and a dupe. They say that all my impressions are a hallucination, but they will not come and see and hear for themselves. Messages to believers are all very well, but we do not need convincing. Why cannot Jasper send his messages to the incredulous, to those who insult me with their wicked accusations?’
‘Alas,’ said Mrs Barnham, with a sorrowful shake of the head, ‘it is that very incredulity, the pernicious unshakeable bigotry that repels the spirits and in the presence of such persons they refuse to appear. Thus, it is only the true believers or those whose minds are open to receiving the truth who are granted messages of hope.’
‘It is thought by some,’ said Mr Cobbe, ‘that there exists in certain persons a state which is the inverse of the medium’s aura, one which neutralises it, and prevents it from activating the spirits.’
‘There are such persons,’ said Mrs Barnham, sadly, ‘and they will never be admitted here, nor will their names ever be spoken in this house.’
I waited for some glancing allusion to you, Miss Scarletti, but before anyone could respond, Miss Stone arrived with a tea tray and a plate of bread and butter.
Mrs Barnham remained behind the table and accepted only tea.
Once the refreshments were consumed, and in view of the quantities provided this did not take long, Miss Stone quickly removed the tray, then ensured that the fire was more closely guarded, and the lights turned down to plunge the room into near darkness. Mrs Barnham invited her visitors to close their eyes and led them to pray for the souls of the departed, after which a hymn was sung by all, Mr Cobbe’s voice sounding lustily above the others.
When they re-opened their eyes, a new figure stood in the room, facing the seated company. The height and form suggested a female child, and she was clad in long robes that shone like moonlight in the darkness. Her face was visible only through silvery veils, partly occluded by long strands of hair.
‘Do not approach or touch her unless she invites you to,’ warned Miss Stone.
I glanced at Mrs Barnham whose form was visible only in the spectral light. She was slumped forward, her head bent low. She appeared to be either asleep or in a trance.
‘The spirit is formed from ethereal matter which has been drawn from Mrs Barnham’s own body,’ Miss Stone continued. ‘Any undue interference would cause the material to rush back into the medium with such force that it might kill her.’
No-one moved. The child spectre paused and looking up and down the line slowly extended thin white arms towards Mr Cobbe.
‘It is my sweet angel, Caroline!’ he gasped. ‘I beg you, come to your father’s loving arms my dear child!’
She glided softly forward, making no sound on the carpeted floor. Trembling, he reached out for her, inviting her to him. Slowly, the spirit came nearer, and finally their hands touched. Mr Cobbe uttered a little moan, and gently drew her close until he was able to enclose her slight form in his arms and laid his head on her shoulder. He appeared to be weeping.
In the faint glow of spirit light I noticed the other sitters turning their faces away out of pity, or blotting their eyes with handkerchiefs, while Miss Stone looked only at her unconscious mistress. I alone gazed at the sight. I have met men like Mr Cobbe before, cruel men who hide their true selves under a mask of virtue, and I felt a great weight settle on my heart.
After a little while, Mrs Barnham began to groan and wail, and this seemed to be a signal for the ghost to depart. Reluctantly Mr Cobbe released the frail figure which backed away. Miss Stone rose to her feet, then Mr Cobbe rose awkwardly and abruptly left the room.
‘And now,’ said Miss Stone, ‘I beg you to pray for the health of Mrs Barnham, that she may be restored to her full form and energy! Close your eyes everyone and pray!’
The voices all joined in prayer and no voice was louder than that of Miss Stone. As the prayer ended I opened my eyes, and the ghost had vanished. Miss Stone was giving Mrs Barnham a drink from her teacup which I felt sure was not tea.
‘You deduced that the spirit of the child was none other than the little maidservant?’ asked Mina, as Mr Merridew ended his tale.
‘I am sure of it. There was every opportunity for her to be made ready by Miss Stone when she went to make the tea, and she was both brought in and removed while our eyes were shut. Our voices hid any noise of her coming and going.’
‘And Mr Cobbe?’
‘I think he is not what he seems. I mean to watch him.’
CHAPTER NINE
Mina’s subterfuge to procure a private interview with Mrs Vardy was successful. There was a prompt reply to her letter agreeing to a call at the date and time proposed, and under the suggested conditions. When the time for their appointment came, therefore, Miss Cherry was absent on her visit to Mrs Phipps. Rose made Mina comfortable and showed the visitor into the room announcing her as Miss Saltmire.
The lady was, as Mr Merridew had described her, tall, with a good figure and handsome rather than beautiful, with a strong angular face, and expressive eyes. Although oppressed by many cares she nevertheless carried herself with strength and confidence. She had brought with her a little leather case of samples and a catalogue.
Mrs Vardy made the usual polite enquiries after Mina’s health, tinged with a note of caution in case the visit itself should over tax the strength of the frail-looking lady sitting propped up in bed well wrapped in blankets.
‘I am very much better, thank you,’ said Mina. Her visitor’s expression suggested that she hardly liked to imagine how Mina had appeared previously. ‘I hope you don’t mind the dissimulation concerning your name.’
‘No, not at all, I quite understand; it was a wise precaution,’ said Mrs Vardy with a wistful smile. ‘There are times when I hardly like to own to it myself.’ She sat down and held the sample case on her lap, clutching at it as if it was a support or a talisman. She made no effort to open it. ‘The name Vardy has become notorious of late. I am being discussed all over town like a common criminal. I know it is just the fashion of the
moment and I believe it will fade with time as these things do. I can bear it, but my poor boys should not have to endure this. There had been talk of them taking their stepfather’s name, but it would be most unwise to do so at present. I do not —’ she broke off for a moment in a burst of emotion. ‘I do not want this suspicion to cling to my sons for the rest of their lives!’
‘I am not sure I know precisely why you have chosen to consult me,’ Mina began, ‘but I promise I will do all in my power to advise and assist you.’
Mrs Vardy took a deep breath, but it seemed to hold itself in her throat and she was dangerously close to choking. There was a carafe of water and glasses by the bedside and Mina reached for them. ‘Would you care for a glass of water? Or I can ring for refreshments to be brought.’
Mrs Vardy composed herself with an effort and shook her head. ‘I will just take the water, thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Please don’t trouble yourself, I will pour it.’
Mrs Vardy helped herself to the water and after slowly sipping it she appeared calmer. ‘Forgive me, when I think of all that has transpired, it can overcome me. I have been through terrible times, and now, just when I had started to imagine that all could be settled in peace and comfort, and I might have some measure of happiness, it has begun again.’ She put the glass down. Mina decided to wait and listen.
‘My first husband Jasper Holt perished in an accident at sea almost eight years ago. There were aspects of the tragedy which led to suspicions such that it has not until recently been possible for the coroner to grant a death certificate. It was believed that Jasper had attempted to defraud an insurance company after taking out a large policy on his life, in order to pay off his business debts. Nothing has been heard from him since the last day he left our house, no note, no sighting. I admit that at first, I did entertain some hope that he was still alive, that he might write to me, or at least attempt to see his sons of whom he was very proud. But there has been nothing. Nothing at all. You must believe me, because I am sorry to say that there are many who do not.’
‘I do,’ said Mina, and Mrs Vardy with this assurance, continued.
‘My brother Gordon actually employed a detective, a Mr Handley, to discover any news of Jasper’s whereabouts but without success. I had previously been attending the readings of a very highly renowned medium, Mrs Barnham, regarding some messages I hoped to receive from my late parents, and when I consulted her about Jasper, his spirit revealed to me that he had indeed passed over. I begged him to tell me where his body could be found, but he could say no more than that the sea covered him. I doubt that any human agency could find him now, and I have given up all hope of granting him a Christian burial. We have said prayers for his soul by the seashore; that was all we could do. Of course, my boys, Franklin and Matthew, miss him terribly, but as time passed, we learned to be content in the family circle.’
She took up the glass and sipped more water. ‘About three years ago, Gordon admitted Mr Silas Vardy to the company, and so valuable were his services that he was taken into partnership. I wish you to understand, Miss Scarletti, that there was at first nothing more than an acquaintance between myself and Mr Vardy, but that blossomed in time into a strong mutual regard. Mr Vardy eventually revealed that were it possible to do so, he would like to make me his wife.’ She sighed. ‘Did I do the right thing, I wonder? I could have refused him, saying that I could not in all conscience regard myself as a widow until the fact of Jasper’s death was proven beyond all doubt, not only in the legal sense, that is. Courts can still be mistaken. But happiness in this world is such a fleeting thing, and one must grasp it when it is offered or risk losing it forever. Seven years had gone by since Jasper was last seen by anyone alive, and I therefore applied for a death certificate, which was granted. I was free to remarry.’ She shook her head. ‘There are days on which I wish I had not been so selfish.’
‘Permit me to ask,’ said Mina, ‘how do your sons regard Mr Vardy?’
‘They first encountered him when he was invited to family gatherings by my brother, and I believe they liked him very well. He has nephews and is therefore familiar with the company of children. When I saw him playing cricket with them at the company picnic, I suppose that was what decided me. I thought that he could be a second father to them. Matthew, who has little memory of his father, and is a robust child, was not affected, but for Franklin, when I told him, everything changed. It was as if the very act of finally and officially declaring Jasper deceased was tantamount to my destroying him, taking away any lingering hope that he was still alive. Worse still, I had ended the life of his father in order to replace him with another. I have been told since that boys of that age can be very sensitive.’
‘How did his distress show itself?’
‘At first it was long moping silences. He seemed to withdraw into his own thoughts and could hardly bring himself to talk to me or to Silas. I hoped that time would cure him, the maturity he would gain with the years, the better acquaintance with his stepfather which would earn respect at the very least, but it was not to be. Just as his temper began to improve, there was the incident of the watch.’ Mrs Vardy unlatched the sample case and withdrew a gentleman’s silver hunter-case watch and chain. She cradled it in her hands for a moment then held it out to Mina. ‘You can see the engraving on the reverse. F J Holt. It was a gift to Jasper’s father from his associates when he retired from the wine trade. It is not of any great monetary value, but it had a sentimental attachment. Jasper was wearing this watch on the day he disappeared.’
‘I see,’ said Mina, ‘May I examine it?’
‘Oh, please do!’ said Mrs Vardy, very eagerly, giving her the watch.
Mina read the inscription which was an appreciation from the Brighton Wine Sellers Association. ‘May I open it?’
‘Yes, of course.’
Mina’s father had owned something similar, and she knew how to press the crown to open the case. The watch had been well cared for, recently wound and showing the right time.
‘And you are in no doubt at all that he was wearing it that day?’
‘None whatsoever. I remember he commented on the time he was due to meet Mr Sutherland and I saw him consult it when he was leaving.’ Mrs Vardy gazed at Mina hopefully. ‘Do you sense anything? Has it any meaning for you?’
Mina suddenly realised that Mrs Vardy thought she might be able to locate the owner of the watch simply by holding it. ‘I am so very sorry, but no. I clearly have no abilities of that kind.’
Mina carefully closed the watch and handed it back to Mrs Vardy who did nothing to conceal her disappointment.
‘But — forgive me — if your husband had indeed fallen into the sea and drowned as is supposed, how did you come by this?’
‘It was delivered to Franklin’s school, in a package with his name on it. It was not through the usual postal service but handed to the porter by a messenger boy. The boy has never been traced. The headmaster very sensibly called Franklin into his study and opened it for him in case there might be anything untoward inside. But Franklin recognised it at once, even after so many years. He was very fond of it, and Jasper often told him that when he was a man it would be his. He looks after it, now, keeps it polished and properly wound. It was quite hard for me to persuade him to allow me to borrow it for an afternoon.’
‘Do you think your husband might perhaps have placed it somewhere for safekeeping before he stepped onto the yacht? And then someone found and recognised it and sent it to your son?’ Mina ventured.
‘That is possible, yes. But why the secrecy? How did the finder know that F J Holt was Jasper’s father? How did he know where to send it? Franklin saw it as a sign. A sign that his father was if not exactly alive, but in some way communicating with him. The watch was trying to tell him something, but he didn’t know what. He brooded on it for days afterwards. And then, quite suddenly, he developed the most alarming new symptoms. On waking up in the morning he found himself unable to move his limbs and he c
laimed that while in that state he could see the ghost of his father. He was afraid to fall asleep, and his appetite was severely impaired. He could no longer concentrate on his studies, and I was obliged to remove him from the school and keep him at home. The worst of it was that he became obsessed with the idea that either I or Mr Vardy or even both of us together were in some way to blame for his father’s death.’
‘Was Mr Vardy acquainted with Mr Holt?’
‘No, they never met. I didn’t meet Silas until three years ago. I tried to explain to Franklin how impossible his ideas were, but he will believe nothing I say.’
‘I assume your son was seen by the family doctor.’
‘Oh yes, Dr McClelland has been very good, but there is only so much he can do in cases like this.’
Mina recalled to mind the name of the doctor who Mr Phipps had told her had examined Mr Holt for the insurance company. ‘I believe I may know Dr McClelland. Is he the man who is in partnership with a Dr Crosier?’
Mrs Vardy looked puzzled. ‘No, I am not acquainted with a Dr Crosier. And Dr McClelland is not in a partnership.’
‘Oh, then I must be mistaken. What treatment did he prescribe?’
‘A light, nourishing diet, tonic mixtures and chloral to help him sleep. Franklin did not like the chloral, he fought against it and we had to give up on it. When there was no improvement Dr McClelland advised calling in a London man, a Dr Fielding who he said is a great authority in cases of this nature. He came and examined Franklin and asked him a great many questions, some of which I thought extremely indelicate. Eventually he said it was a case of mental shock, made worse by a generally sensitive disposition and my son’s age. There is no cure, but there is the hope that with good care, he will mend with time. He requires nourishing food, fresh air, light exercise and pleasant companionship. There are some days when Franklin appears to be almost well again, but then he will relapse. He has to be watched constantly as there are fears he might injure himself. The worst of it is, he no longer trusts me to take care of him. His own mother!’
His Father's Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 5) Page 10