Mr Hope nodded sagely. ‘I approve the plan,’ he said. ‘When we next hold a séance we will therefore all be assured that any communication which is received through Mrs Honeyacre’s mediumship comes direct from the spirit of this unhappy individual and is not prompted by her prior knowledge of the discovery.’
‘That was not at all my meaning,’ Mr Honeyacre protested.
‘But it was mine,’ said Mr Hope. ‘You cannot prevent it now,’ he added with an intense stare. ‘You cannot and will not.’
‘This is a conversation for another time,’ said Mr Honeyacre, turning aside. Mr Hope’s expression suggested that the conversation would not be long delayed.
Mr Malling arrived with a vegetable box and took it up the stairs. When the explorers returned Mr Malling was leading, lighting the way down with the lantern, while Dr Hamid and Mr Beckler followed, carrying the box between them. Both those gentlemen looked uncomfortable to be thus employed, as if the box was too small to allow as much distance between them as they might have liked.
As the box reached the corridor, Mina stepped forward eagerly to examine it.
‘Miss Scarletti, perhaps you ought not to look,’ suggested Mr Honeyacre, gently. ‘A skeleton is a grisly thing. I would not want my dear Kitty to see one in this state.’
‘Oh, I have made a special study of skeletons,’ said Mina, who had read numerous medical texts on the subject of scoliosis. ‘Only from drawings, of course, but I have never seen the real thing. I have to confess I am all agog.’
Mr Honeyacre sighed and accepted the inevitable.
Mina peered into the box. There was a sickly stench, but she braved it. The bones, she noticed immediately, were clean of flesh, but darkened by a coating of dust and dirt and the only clothing that seemed to attach to them were some brown strips of what appeared to be rotted linen. She recognised a skull, a hip bone, long bones of all sizes, ribs and vertebrae.
‘It is complete?’ she asked.
‘I won’t know until I have laid it out,’ said Dr Hamid, ‘but I feel sure that some of the smaller bones will be missing. Some may have crumbled with age, others carried off by vermin.’ He turned to Mr Honeyacre. ‘I would like the bones to be taken to some suitable place, the stables perhaps, where I can work on them without troubling anyone else.’
‘That would be best,’ said Mr Honeyacre, nodding to Mr Malling. ‘There is an empty stall that would suit your purpose.’
‘I’ll fetch some trestles from the workshop,’ said Malling, ‘and then the doctor may work in comfort.’
‘And I would like to see the sweepings of fallen plaster,’ added Dr Hamid. ‘Some small bones may be amongst them, or even a clue as to whose skeleton this is.’
‘I’ll bring them to you,’ said Mrs Malling.
‘And we must make sure the corridor is safe,’ added Mr Honeyacre. ‘No one must go down there before we are sure that there will be no further fall from the ceiling.’
Once Mr Malling had ensured that Dr Hamid had everything he required he proceeded to make the corridor safe. It was a relief to discover that it was not necessary to shore up the ceiling, as most of the damage was attributable to Mr Hope’s foot and subsequent struggles. The larger fragments of plaster having been removed, a clean hole remained and dust sheets were laid out to catch any further powdering.
Following the landslip and the natural concerns about the safety of the terrace it was fortunate that the stable yard and stalls were still accessible by a staircase from the servants’ wing. Dr Hamid put on his warm coat, took a lantern and set to work.
Mina found Nellie in their shared room with Zillah for company, looking very annoyed and extremely bored.
‘I was quite prepared to feign a headache for a few hours but I feel that whole days of idleness are beyond me,’ she said. ‘Even the finding of an old bone in the attic is no consolation.’
‘It is more than that,’ said Mina. ‘We have a skeleton complete with skull.’
‘It would have to stand up and walk about to amuse me. Am I really doomed to remain here until the roads are mended?’
‘I did do my best,’ said Mina. ‘In fact, I had persuaded Richard to leave and take Mr Stevenson with him, but now the landslip means we must all stay. And there is another danger. Richard has warned me that Mr Hope has expressed vile intentions towards you and is to be avoided at all costs.’
‘What it is to be so desired,’ said Nellie drily. ‘Supposedly the wish of every woman, but it is a curse on those granted that wish. But now I really must emerge from my purdah. If you will be my ladies-in-waiting, shall we go and see Kitty?’
‘How awful this all is,’ said Kitty. She was sitting up in bed with a warm wrap about her shoulders. On her lap, Little Scrap, smelling of violets and with his hair knotted in a cascade of ribbons, was eating biscuits out of a silver dish. ‘My poor dear child has had such a horrid time, he was so very frightened without me.’
Miss Pet was in attendance and Zillah went to sit with her, the two young girls exchanging warm assurances that each was quite safe and well after the recent commotion.
‘I am so glad that your brother is here, Miss Scarletti,’ said Kitty. ‘He is very amusing to speak to and he should be able to divert us with his drawings, but I cannot abide Lord Hope or his friend and there is something about Mr Stevenson I do not trust. It is the way he looks about him all the time, as if he is finding fault with everything he sees.’
Mina and Nellie glanced at each other and nodded. ‘Mr Stevenson is not what he seems,’ said Nellie. ‘He is a detective — a spy sent by my jealous husband to watch me.’
Kitty gasped. ‘How cruel!’
‘He does not realise that I have seen through him. Do you recall when Mr Scarletti and I took coffee with Mr Honeyacre and yourself just before you were married? Mr Stevenson was seated at the next table but he paid more attention to our party than he did his coffee. I am sure I have seen him lurking about on other occasions, too. On the day we came here he passed by in the street when we left the church and he noticed me then. Of course, he was dressed differently, but that was not disguise enough. I have a good memory for faces and knew him at once.’
‘That is a nasty trade,’ said Kitty. ‘But now I see why he was looking about him so carefully when he arrived — it is in his nature to do so.’
‘Perhaps he was looking for cobwebs,’ said Mina. ‘Richard says he is deadly afraid of spiders.’
‘Then we should ask Mr Scarletti to make a big drawing of one and frighten him away,’ said Kitty. She sighed. ‘It is a pity we have none at this time of year.’
Since the day remained chill and the stable was unheated Mina ensured that Dr Hamid was brought a jug of hot cocoa to sustain him and gave in to her curiosity concerning the bones to pay him a visit, which involved negotiating the slippery cobbles of the stable yard with her tiny feet. Not for the first time she wondered if a stout staff would be a good thing to carry. She had resisted it so far, but knew that with advancing age that time would come. She had little doubt that, if she lived long enough, a Bath chair lay in her future.
Mina pushed open the stable door and found Dr Hamid in his greatcoat, engaged in laying out the bones on the wooden boards that had been so useful in the attic, which were supported at either end on trestles. The box of plaster sweepings was nearby and looked as though it had been thoroughly raked through.
‘Thank you for the cocoa,’ he said. ‘You know me too well. How is your brother? He came to me complaining of a toothache and I gave him something to rub on his gums.’
‘He is better now, but he has some serious concerns.’ Mina proceeded to describe the dangers to Nellie from the prying Mr Stevenson and the egregious Mr Hope.
Dr Hamid shook his head at the sinfulness of society. ‘I will do what I can to prevent distress to Mrs Jordan,’ he promised.
‘How is your work proceeding?’ asked Mina.
‘It won’t be completed tonight,’ he said, stretching his sho
ulders and rubbing his knuckles into his back, as he had been bent over the boards for some while. ‘You can see that I have found the larger bones and placed them in position, but the smaller ones will take longer. And the very small ones, as I feared, are missing.’
Mina examined the layout, which resembled so closely the drawings she had studied, only now made real. ‘An adult, certainly,’ she said. ‘Male or female?’
‘Female, without a doubt. The shape of the skull and the pelvis are unmistakable. It is hard to determine her age without further examination. But I would say that she was young rather than elderly and I believe she may have borne a child.’
‘The only woman associated with this house that we know has borne a child is Mrs Lassiter,’ said Mina.
‘We have no evidence that Mrs Lassiter is deceased,’ said Dr Hamid, cautiously.
‘And none that she is alive.’
‘That is true. No one has been able to say where the family now resides, but we may find it out in due course.’
‘Mr Hope has asked if we could all assemble in the drawing room to discuss what has taken place,’ said Mina. ‘Will you be able to attend? I rather think he expects it.’
‘Mr Hope’s discussions usually take the form of lectures,’ said Dr Hamid, ‘and his requests are expressed as commands.’
‘There will be refreshments.’
He smiled. ‘Then I will pause in my work for now and pursue it tomorrow in better light, and hopefully better weather.’
They returned indoors and on the way Dr Hamid kindly assisted Mina over the cobbles. She waited for him to suggest she ought to acquire a walking cane, but he did not.
The grouping in the drawing room consisted of Mr Honeyacre, Mr Hope, Richard, Mr Stevenson and Mr Beckler. Kitty had chosen to stay in her room to enjoy the company of her fragrantly contented puppy dog and Nellie had remained to sit with her.
‘Ah, Dr Hamid!’ exclaimed Mr Hope, jumping to his feet. ‘We have been awaiting your news! Can you tell us whose skeleton it is?’
‘I am afraid not, and may never be able to without further information,’ said Dr Hamid. ‘But this I can say — the deceased was an adult female, who had given birth.’
‘Then it must be Mrs Lassiter!’ said Mr Hope. ‘Murdered by her husband, no doubt. That would explain the restless complaining spirit that haunts this place.’
‘I have seen nothing so far to tell me the cause of death,’ said Dr Hamid. ‘There are no injuries to any of the bones I have examined. But I have not yet completed my work.’
‘Supposing she was strangled?’ asked Mr Beckler, flexing his long fingers. ‘That is a very common way for husbands to dispose of wives. Could you determine that?’
‘Not with the bones I have, no.’
‘Poisoning would leave no sign, I suppose,’ said Mina. ‘But that is the way wives like to murder their husbands.’
Mr Honeyacre made a sound like a whimper and pressed a handkerchief to his lips and Richard stifled a laugh.
If Mr Stevenson had any useful observations to make on the subject of spousal murder he chose to keep them to himself.
‘Nevertheless,’ Mr Hope went on, walking about the room, an action which always seemed to presage a long speech with which his listeners were expected to agree, ‘we cannot rule out murder, neither can we say positively that the skeleton is not that of Mrs Lassiter. After all, whose else could it be?’
Mina opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. She dared not name Abigail Falcon, the Lassiters’ missing nursemaid. To do so would reveal that she had information which was not in the possession of anyone else, the pamphlet written by Reverend Tolley which she had abstracted — she would not say purloined — from the parish chest after Nellie had feloniously picked the lock. It was not something of which she was exactly proud.
‘You were about to say something, Miss Scarletti?’ asked Mr Hope, his expression showing that he sensed her discomfort.
All eyes turned to Mina and she was obliged to speak, choosing her words carefully. ‘When Mrs Malling told me about the Lassiters she mentioned that they had employed a nursemaid to care for their child, who was ill in some way, and that both the child and the nursemaid had disappeared. She also told me that Mrs Lassiter was later found drowned in the brook, although she wasn’t buried here. There is a family vault elsewhere.’
Even as she spoke, Mina recalled that according to Reverend Tolley, who had actually known the Lassiters and must be considered the better source of information, the child had not been ill and had not disappeared and he believed that the family had simply vacated the house because it was haunted. ‘Of course,’ she added, ‘that was only a story. I am not sure where Mrs Malling heard it. Who knows how much of it is true? Perhaps none of it.’
‘Was the nursemaid ever found?’ asked Mr Honeyacre.
‘No,’ said Mina, recalling that, in both stories, Abigail Falcon’s fate remained unknown.
‘Do we know anything of her?’ demanded Mr Hope. ‘Her name? Her age? Was she a widow perhaps?’
‘Mrs Malling did not say,’ said Mina.
‘There must have been other maidservants here over the years,’ said Dr Hamid. ‘Are there none who are believed to have run away, or been dismissed, or simply left the village?’
There was a thoughtful pause as Mary Ann brought in a jug of cocoa and a plate of biscuits. ‘I have just recalled something,’ said Mina. ‘William Jesson, the boy who came up from the village to tell us about the road being under water — he said that his grandmother used to work here and it brought her trouble. He wouldn’t say what that trouble was.’
‘Then we must find her and interview her when the roads are clear,’ said Mr Honeyacre.
Mina saw Mary Ann hesitate. ‘Mary Ann, do you know William Jesson’s grandmother?’
‘No, Miss, I never knew her. I expect she is long passed. But Susan might know something. Susan and William are cousins. Not first cousins, further back than that. Susan did once tell me that her grandmother worked here when the other people were here, the ones before the Lassiters, but she was never happy. I don’t know any more than that.’
‘Were those other people the Wigmores?’ asked Mina.
‘I think so.’
‘Then Susan’s grandmother and William Jesson’s grandmother might be the same person,’ said Mina, who was wondering if she was also the maid referred to in Reverend Tolley’s pamphlet, the one who had been ill-treated by the manservant.
‘Ask Susan to come here,’ said Mr Hope. ‘She is not in any trouble and she may be able to help us.’
Mary Ann left and Mr Hope strode up and down again. ‘Without being able to interview the villagers we must make do with what we have,’ he said. ‘Susan may hold the key to the mystery. And if we should find, as I am sure we shall, that there is a troubled spirit here that needs solace in order to be allowed to ascend into the heavenly realm then we must not shirk our duty.’ He wheeled about and fixed his host with an intense stare. ‘Mr Honeyacre, I think that you will now agree with me — it was no chance that Mrs Honeyacre’s charming little dog found the bones. Animals, as I am sure you know, are extremely sensitive to spirits. Their senses are sharper, they see and hear and scent things that we do not. Little Scrap must have been led to the bones by a spirit. What a truly sagacious animal he is! If he could only speak I am sure he could tell us precisely where the most powerful psychic focus is in this house! He might even have conversed with the spirits and know all their secrets! You will now understand that we must hold another séance and that both Mrs Honeyacre and her delightful little dog must be present.’
‘I believe that we must place Mrs Honeyacre’s health above such considerations,’ said Dr Hamid.
‘But have you considered,’ said Mr Hope, ‘that it might be the psychic disturbances in this house that are weakening her? That these must be eliminated without further delay or her health may suffer more? Surely you must see that?’
Dr Hamid frow
ned. ‘I can see that she finds the incidents that have taken place here very upsetting.’
‘She was not so excitable when I first became acquainted with her,’ sighed Mr Honeyacre.
‘There you are!’ said Mr Hope triumphantly. ‘What do you say? Will we have our séance?’
‘I will speak to my wife in the morning and ask her opinion,’ said Mr Honeyacre. ‘Dr Hamid and I will consult further.’
Mr Hope looked as though he was about to make a very firm reply, but at that moment there was a knock at the door.
‘Enter,’ said Mr Honeyacre.
The door opened and Susan stood on the threshold. She looked terrified.
‘Ah, Susan my dear, come in, come in, please don’t be afraid,’ said Mr Hope, putting on his friendliest face.
Susan crept into the room and stood just inside the door, trembling and staring at the floor.
‘Please come forward, it would be so much better if you were comfortable.’ Mr Hope drew up a chair before the frightened girl. ‘Sit down, do.’ Susan complied as if she was afraid that the chair would suddenly rise up and eat her. ‘Would you care for a biscuit?’ Susan shook her head and abruptly burst into tears. ‘Perhaps later.’
‘Would it calm her if a lady was to speak to her?’ suggested Mr Honeyacre. ‘Susan, would you like Miss Scarletti to talk to you?’
Susan dabbed her eyes with her apron, sniffled loudly and nodded.
Mina went to sit by her. ‘We have talked before, haven’t we, Susan?’
‘Yes, Miss.’
‘I remember you told me all about seeing the white lady and how the rocking horse moved by itself. That must have been very frightening.’
‘It was, Miss.’
‘We are hoping to solve the mystery of why these things are happening in this house, so we can make them stop. The answer might lie in some of the history of Ditchling Hollow and this house. If there is anything you know that might help us we would be very grateful to hear it.’
‘I don’t know that I do know anything,’ said Susan.
The Ghost of Hollow House (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 4) Page 21