When I mentioned this to Mr Merridew, he at once appreciated my difficulty, and he was very sympathetic about it and apologised so very profusely that I was obliged to protest that I attached no blame to him as he was only engaged in his profession. He then kindly offered to conduct my boys and myself on a tour of the theatre to see what happened behind the scenery as it were. We went on the visit yesterday and it was quite remarkable. We met a number of the actors and the men who build and paint everything, and they were all so very friendly.
Matthew became extremely excited and alarmed me very much by picking up a sword and waving it about, and I had to beg him to put it down, but then I found out that it was only painted wood and was much relieved. He was also interested in all the machinery of the stage and was especially fascinated by the trapdoor which worked by some curious mechanical device that enabled the actor who was playing the ghost to appear and disappear as if by magic. Really if I had not brought him home, he would be riding up and down on it still.
Franklin is normally such a quiet reserved boy, but he was very taken by the costumes. It was quite wonderful to see him looking at the painted material of the ghost’s draperies and seeing for himself that it was all make-believe. What a strange profession the stage is! Franklin also gained great amusement from the court costumes, the gold trimmings and brocades and velvets, with their paste jewels. I think it was the bright colours that attracted him, and he spent more than an hour trying them on and walking about in them and putting paint on his face. Mr Merridew was patience personified.
The result has been that ever since we came home Franklin has been talking about the visit without stopping. He has started lurking in the shadows draped in a bedsheet or jumping out suddenly with flour on his face, and trying to frighten the servants, but I hope he will grow out of it. He is not yet entirely cured of his late disturbance and still has the occasional nightmare, but I do feel that he is making good progress. His sleeping is easier, and Jane has kindly begun to tutor him in reading and arithmetic with a little history and geography, so he will not fall behind in his studies, and I am hopeful that he will soon be recovered enough to return to school.
Little Maggie is coming along very well. In fact, despite her youth, she is the only maid who has not been startled by Franklin’s impersonation of a ghost as she says very robustly that there are no such things.
I know now that Emily Wandle called on you before she confessed all she knew to me, and I thank you for your guidance on that occasion which gave her the courage to enlighten me. I was of course dreadfully upset at what she had to say, and at first, I could hardly bear to speak to her, and had determined never to meet with her again. Since then I have given the matter considerable thought, and I think I can understand her reasons for the dissimulation. At least she did what she did for good reasons and not, as in the example of the reprehensible Mrs Barnham, for the love of lucre. I have therefore decided to forgive her, and we have met again with the intention of mending our friendship. It appears that Emily was convinced that I knew all along what Jasper’s plans were, and when she told me that he had left a message for me, I was quite mystified as I had seen no such message. I mentioned this to Gordon and he confessed to me that on going through Jasper’s papers, something I felt quite unable to do at first, he had seen a note that Jasper had left for me, but he judged from the wording that my poor husband was declaring his intention to make away with himself. He therefore destroyed it, as any suggestion of suicide would have invalidated the insurance, not to mention the distress it would have caused us all.
Gordon thought he could recall the words of the message which were ‘I am going to where the world ends. We will meet again.’ When Jasper and I were courting we liked to go on short trips along the coast in fine weather and look at the beaches and the little boats and quaint cottages. There was one place in Shoreham where we stopped and looked out across the sea, which seems to go on forever. I remember we said to each other that it was the place where the world came to an end. But what we meant was, it was the old world coming to an end, and we were looking at the future when we would be united, and it would be a new and better world. It was a private time between us, and I suppose I had not thought of it for a while. Poor Jasper, he was not talking of any heavenly region, but of course Gordon was not to know that.
Trusting that I find you in good health,
I am most gratefully yours,
Charlotte Holt
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
When Mr William Sutherland was in better health, he consented to tell his story to selected witnesses, one of whom was Dr Hamid, who apprised Mina of the details as accurately as he was able to.
I, William Sutherland, being in possession of my senses, and fully aware that I am the William Sutherland who was formerly a partner in Sutherland and Fenwick, stockbrokers of London, have been recently apprised of the fact that Mr Jasper Holt of Brighton, who was thought to have died on 18 July 1864, in fact survived his fall into the sea and did not pass away until 25 January 1872.
I now wish to make a full and truthful statement of the events that took place during the last occasion on which I sailed my yacht Ocean Breeze.
Prior to the voyage I had only a slight acquaintance with Mr Holt through the purchase of wines and spirits from his shop on St James’s Street, Brighton. On learning that I was a member of the Brighton Yacht Club and was in possession of a yacht he became very interested and asked if he could join me on a voyage. I agreed and told him that in view of my forthcoming marriage to Miss Ann Chantry I was considering selling the yacht. Mr Holt then said that he might be interested in purchasing it. He also said he had been advised by his doctor that sea voyaging was good for the health, and he had two sons who might enjoy sailing.
It was on that agreement that Mr Holt joined me on the yacht on 18 July 1864. I had no notion then of his true intentions and if I had I would have refused to sail with him.
Shortly after we left Brighton, Mr Holt asked to be taken to Shoreham. I thought at first that he just wished to make a short visit, but he then said that he wished to be put ashore there and told me that I must to return to Brighton without him. Not only that but he asked me not to reveal where he was. I thought this an extremely strange request and said I could not do this without being told of his reasons.
After a lot of hesitation Mr Holt confessed that if I did not help him then he would be a ruined man as his business was, through no fault of his own, failing, and he was deeply in debt. The shame of bankruptcy would be intolerable, and his family would be thrown out of their home and reliant on the charity of relatives.
I remonstrated with him. I said that running away would not cure the situation. He replied that it would if he was dead. I was appalled as I thought he intended to make away with himself, but he reassured me that that was not his intention as his insurance company would not pay out if he took his own life. I demanded to know what he meant to do, and he eventually revealed to me the planned fraud. He had recently taken out a substantial policy of insurance on his life on which he had paid the first instalment. His intention was to disappear without trace in circumstances where he would be assumed to have died. He expected me not only to assist him in this, but to tell people on my return to Brighton that he had perished in an accident. It was essential for his purpose that I should state, under oath if necessary, that I had seen him fall over the side with my own eyes, and sink below the waves, as that would be proof that he was deceased.
He planned to reappear after a sufficient interval of time, under another name, with changes to his appearance, and remarry his wife. A more desperate and foolhardy exploit I could not imagine.
I was deeply shocked by this story, not the least because he expected me to collude with him in a serious crime. I pointed out how much grief his wife and children would suffer when they thought he was dead, but he told me that he had left a note for his wife so she would know where he was and that he was safe. Once the accident was no long
er newsworthy, he would write to her more fully.
I was extremely annoyed at being placed in this position, and made it known to him that I could not under any circumstances be a party to a criminal deception. Holt then said that if I helped him, he would pay me a large sum out of the proceeds of the insurance. This I regarded as an insult. Naturally I refused, and said that I would return to Brighton forthwith, hoping that we would have some further conversation on the way, and that I could persuade him of the folly of his plan.
I began to turn the yacht around, but Holt suddenly became desperate, and tried to take over steering the yacht. The result was a violent struggle. I should say that I did not feel in imminent danger as his object was to wrest the steering from me and not subject me to any personal harm. However, I was angered by his actions, most especially by his easy assumption that I would be a party to his plans and pushed him away. He made a second attempt on the steering and this time, I am ashamed to say that I struck him. I fear that I did so a little too strongly. He staggered back and not being an experienced sailor, he lost his balance, and fell out of the yacht. I did what I could to save him but saw him sinking and assumed that my blow had rendered him unconscious and he had drowned.
I was now in a horrible position. I was potentially open to charges of manslaughter or even murder. My career could be ruined if I confessed. I did not want to say that Mr Holt had taken his own life, as that would be a terrible stain on his reputation which would be an unnecessary and lasting grief to his family. I therefore determined to report the death as an accident. I was aware of course that in a sense I was conniving with his intended fraud, but I believed that once the truth of his finances emerged, there would be sufficient doubts that his plan would never come to fruition, and so in fact it transpired.
I had not anticipated the suspicion that would attach to me, and the disastrous effect it would have on my business, especially following the dreadful Maritime Queen case, in which I did no more than offer the usual professional advice. My partnership with Mr Fenwick was dissolved, and Miss Chantry asked to be released from our engagement. It was not very many months later that Miss Chantry became Mrs Fenwick. I entered a kind of wilderness of the mind. I became a hermit who avoided all society. I had hoped that the Holt affair had been forgotten, but then it came back like a ghost to haunt and torment me.
I must offer my most sincere and frank apologies for all the distress and inconvenience I have caused others.
Signed: W. Sutherland
Witnessed: D Hamid, M D, R Phipps, solicitor, Captain H Bulstrode, (retired)
After Dr Hamid left, Mina was disturbed by a cacophony of noise. There was a percussion of boxes and baggage, and the thunder of running footsteps, with accompanying shouts and cries, and general sense of turmoil. An all-too brief interlude of peace was followed by a loud bumping sound and vociferous exclamations which suggested that a laden trunk was being taken downstairs. Minutes later she heard a carriage drawing up outside the house.
It was sufficiently alarming for her to ignore Dr Hamid’s instructions and leave her bed unassisted, a task to which she found to her delight that she was more than equal, but she had not yet reached the window when Rose came in, and firmly but quietly moved her to the chair and tucked some shawls about her shoulders.
‘Rose, what is happening?’ Mina demanded. ‘Is someone dead? Or is this to do with Richard? Or both? What has he done this time?’
‘No, Miss,’ said Rose, dryly. ‘You just rest there, there’s nothing that needs your attention, and Master Richard will be along soon.’
Mina was obliged to wait in a ferment of anticipation wondering what had led to the upset. It was only Rose’s easy demeanour that told her it was not a disaster. When Richard sauntered in with a smile, she at once insisted on knowing all the truth.
‘Oh, it’s nothing to be alarmed about, really,’ he said airily, throwing himself full length upon the bed. ‘Mother has had to run off to London to be with Enid and her first granddaughter.’
‘The child is born?’ Mina exclaimed.
‘Last night. Mother received the telegram this morning.’
‘But it was not expected for a month or two. Are they well?’
‘Oh yes, Enid for all her protestations, has Mother’s constitution. In full health she could fell an ox if she set her mind to it. She is doing well, and the child if a little undersized is also robust and likely to live.’
Mina could not repress a profound sigh of relief. ‘I hope,’ she said faintly, ‘that Enid did not take any dangerous measures to bring this about.’
‘None were required. It was only necessary for her to peruse a letter from Mr Inskip. Her husband wrote to advise her that he is now restored to what passes for good health in his case, and since the snow in the mountains has abated sufficiently for travel, he has set out for home. Given the date of the letter he is expected to darken his own doorstep in about a week. The news alone was sufficient to throw Enid into paroxysms and the child was born only hours later.’
‘I am concerned,’ said Mina, ‘that there will be a rift in the marriage when he returns. Will he not harbour suspicions?’
‘You can rely on Mother; she already has her plans laid. She was making them as Rose packed her trunk. You know how adept she is at plotting her way out of anything that doesn’t suit her. Remember, the twins were born a little early and they were not large although they have made up for it since, as they now both resemble boiled puddings and like to roll everywhere. It is therefore hoped that Mr Inskip will not find the size anything to complain of, especially if he is told that Enid was pining so much during his absence and fearing for his health that she was unable to swallow more than a spoonful of broth a day. That is to be the story and we must all adhere to it.’
‘Then Enid’s reputation and her marriage will be safe, and we must trust that she does not risk them again,’ said Mina, with an exhalation of relief. ‘Richard?’
‘Yes, my dear?’
‘No more talk of trying to marry me off. Not to anyone.’
EPILOGUE
Sunlight was spreading over the calm sea in a warm flush of gold, highlighting shallow wave tips. The cool spring had finally retreated, leaving behind it the promise of a warm summer, with the May sky as brilliant and clear as only Brighton could offer. In her first venture out of doors since her illness, accompanied by Dr Hamid, Mina Scarletti was where she most liked to be, on the promenade, smelling the salt scented air, and gazing into a distant blue.
‘I would like to take a walk,’ said Mina.
‘Are you sure?’ asked Dr Hamid.
‘Very sure. My lungs are clear, and I feel so much stronger. Miss Hamid has been so helpful with the exercises — who knows, if I am diligent, and I intend to be, I may become better than I was before I was ill.’
‘One step at a time,’ said Dr Hamid, warningly. He assisted her from the bath chair in which he had wheeled her down the incline towards the sea and helped her to stand. She leaned upon his proffered arm and they walked slowly along the promenade.
‘Did you see in this morning’s newspaper,’ said Mina, ‘Mr Hope has been forestalled. Dr Livingstone has been found alive by a Mr Stanley who no-one has ever heard of. It happened last year, but the news has only just arrived in England and been confirmed. So unless he can find another adventure to justify the expense of his journey he must come home again.’
‘We must trust that he stays away from Brighton,’ said Dr Hamid. ‘He has disgraced himself enough here.’
‘People have short memories, and his supporters of whom I know he has many will hear nothing against him, so he may yet appear. He also has his protégé to encourage, although I understand from Richard that Mr Beckler’s experiments to create a photograph of a ghost have not been successful, so if we are fortunate, Mr Hope may tire of him and turn to something else.’
Mina looked out to sea and reflected on the events of the months of March and April, and how so many of her conc
erns had been resolved, and the stories that had started up then come to a conclusion. Her petulant sister Enid was recovering well from the early delivery of a daughter, who had been christened Gwendoline. While the infant was considered somewhat undersized for a nine-month child, Enid’s husband, Mr Inskip who was finally home from his prolonged absence had been so charmed by this addition to the family, that he had accepted the manufactured explanation without question. His business abroad had been highly successful, and this must have effected a change in his mood since it was reported that he and Enid were on far better terms than previously and she had not complained of him once.
Mrs Barnham, exhausted by the indignity of her arrest, and denied the support both of Miss Stone and her rum punch, had quickly declined in health. Following a pathetic appearance before the Brighton magistrates, she had collapsed in her cell before she could be remanded to gaol, suffered a fit, and passed away shortly afterwards.
Miss Stone had fared rather better. When interviewed by the police she strongly denied any knowledge of wrongdoing, admitting only to her part in preparing the servant child for what she described as ‘a harmless masquerade designed to comfort a bereaved father’ and this, at the behest of her employer. No charges were made against her and she was released. Under Mrs Barnham’s will she inherited all her employer’s property including the spiritoscope, with which she continued the séances. These were advertised in the Brighton Gazette at 6d per person, and met with some moderate success, although she did not promise to produce bodily manifestations.
His Father's Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 5) Page 28