by Splendid You
Deep in concentration, for a moment it was as if Mrs. Pierce hadn’t heard. Then she raised her eyes from the page that absorbed her so and was instantly all smiles. “Why, I’m that glad to see you, miss!”
“I’m happy to see you again as well.”
Mrs. Pierce nodded her head in Simon’s direction, but spoke to Julia. “Maybe you can tell me, miss. What’s the proper pay for a ‘ousemaid these days?”
“A housemaid?”
“Yes, miss. One wot knows her work through and through. No slackin’, no flirtin’, a real ‘ard worker.”
“Oh, for such a one as that I’d pay as much as ten pounds a year, plus a clothing allowance.”
“Ah!” Mrs. Pierce wrote on her paper. “A Saturday ‘alf-day once a month?”
“At least. Are you thinking of entering into private service?”
Mrs. Pierce smiled happily. “Not me, miss. Let me cal-curlate ‘alf a mo ...”
Her daughter whispered to Simon, “See wot I mean? Barmy....”
“You mind your tongue, girl! Rollin’ in money we’ll be afore you know where you’re at!”
“Yes, Mum,” she said obediently. But she tapped her temple significantly.
Julia ignored them both. She walked over to the table where Mrs. Pierce worked and looked over the woman’s shoulder. “What are you doing? An employment bureau? What a coincidence! I need some staff myself. Just two girls to begin with, hardworking, clean, and regular churchgoers.”
“Yes, miss. And their duties?”
“I’m not quite certain. At present, I shall need strong girls to do the rough cleaning. The family town house has been shut up for nearly two years.”
“I know just where to put my ‘and on two such girls. They’ll suit you down to the ground, they will, or they’ll hear from their mum. Min! Find yer sister. This laidy’ll be wantin’ to ... to interview you.” She slewed round in her seat to fix her gaze on her daughter. “See,” she added triumphantly. “I told you I’d make a go of it!”
“Ah, Mum! That’s just luck, it is, these two walkin’ in orf the street!”
“I never been lucky afore,” Mrs. Pierce said. Then she lifted her chin high. “I got a feeling I’m goin’ ter be lucky from now on.”
Min sighed and raised her eyes toward the ceiling. “I’ll look fer Amabelle.” As an afterthought, she bobbed a curtsey in Julia’s direction.
Simon, now that these domestic details were settled, broke into Mrs. Pierce and Julia’s renewed conversation. “I understand you had another bit of luck last night, ma’am.”
“Eh?”
Julia said, “There was a man who came to see you. You talked for a while, then he gave you some money before he left.”
“That Min can’t keep her lips over a secret so much as a second. Don’t worry, though, miss. A nice laidy like you won’t have no secrets she can spread abaht. An’ she don’t never break nothin’—china nor glass. She knows better.”
“I’m sure I shall be pleased with them if they can clean as well as you do. She’s a handsome girl, too, and will look very fine in a cap.”
As with mothers the world over, Simon saw Mrs. Pierce simper when her child was praised. “There’s not a finer pair of girls in Lunnon than my two, though I says it as shouldn’t.”
“Now, about this gentleman ...”
“Oh, he weren’t no gentleman. Talked very fine and got up regardless, hut he weren’t no gentleman at all. ‘Ad too much of that there pomade on his ‘air, fer one thing. And perfume, which is one thing I can’t h’abide fer a man to wear. Beards and such, I don’t mind. A nice mustache or bit of a beard sets a feller off. But I draws the line at a man’s smelling like a lot o’ lemons nor flowers, neither.”
Simon asked, “This man had a mustache?”
“Yes, sir, ‘e did an’ all.”
“A beard, too?”
“Wouldn’t ‘ardly dignify it with the name o’ beard, sir! Just a little thing it was. hanging off the end of his chin.” She pressed her finger to the cleft in her own chin. “Just there. Looked h’ever so comical when he talked, wagging abaht. All I could do to keep from larfing in ‘is face!”
“What did he ask you about?”
“Oh, he said he had questions to ask me ‘bout things that ‘appened when I was young. He wanted to know if I’d ever seen anything h’uncanny. Ghosts an’ sperrits.”
“And had you?”
“Love you, no! I don’t believe it that sort o’ rot, beggin’ your pardon. Unchanciest thing I h’ever seen was me poor ol' uncle staggering home after hoisting a few down the pub.”
Simon paced, a few steps either way, while Julia listened to Mrs. Pierce’s plan for a grand new style of employment bureau. He’d never been so eager to discuss his discoveries with another person before, not even during his archaeological work.
He had to practice even more patience during the next delay, though he was sure Julia at least could hear his teeth grind. Then there was another delay while Julia interviewed the two girls for their positions. Though initially sulky, they each made a quick recovery and seemed eager to begin by the time Julia was ready to leave.
“I’m sorry we took so long,” she said prettily to the cab driver.
“Not to worry, miss,” he said, touching his hat.
She hardly waited for Simon to enter before saying, “Do you think Mrs. Pierce’s visitor was Dr. Mystery?”
“Why do you suspect him?”
“The same reason you do, I imagine. There are not so many men in London who are anything but clean-shaven. Sailors and such still wear beards, I believe, but they surely wouldn’t burden themselves with a cloak. Add together the mustache, his asking her about ghosts, and the fact that he saw her last night with me and could easily have found where she lived.” She paused for breath and then asked, “Does Dr. Mystery care for the opera at all?”
“How would I know something like that?”
“Perhaps it was the cloak that put it into my mind. There’s something so dramatic about one. Romantic, too.”
“And drama and romance combined is opera?”
She gave him her most impudent grin. “Do you think it was Dr. Mystery that came here last night?”
“I doubt it. What interest could he have in Mrs. Pierce?”
“Why don’t we go and ask him?”
* * * *
Julia was happy to find that Simon had all but abandoned his well-meaning attempts to keep her out of things. Though his mother and sisters had not given her the impression that they were inconsequential fools, she could understand how Simon might have made a wrong assessment of their characters. No doubt they did pander somewhat to the idea of male superiority that everyone in the Archer household seemed to take for granted. She was rather glad to know that she would never have the chance to meet the late Mr. Archer. Or at least, she hoped that opportunity was past.
They stood together on the wide step in front of Dr. Mystery’s door. A butler in a black waistcoat had gone to discover whether his master was “at home” or gone abroad on the town.
Looking up at the blank windows, Julia asked, “You’re quite sure Dr. Mystery cannot possibly communicate with deceased persons?”
“He’s a complete fraud, Julia. You have nothing whatever to be afraid of.”
“Afraid? Certainly not. I simply wish to be prepared for what might occur.”
“Nothing will happen. He only performs his tricks under circumstances that he can control completely. We shall not give him the opportunity to perform for us. No doubt his servant will simply tell us that we were not expected and therefore Dr. Mystery will be unable to see us. That is what I should do, if I were in his place.”
Julia said with confidence, “You could never be in his place. I know how abhorrent fakery is to you. I well remember your comments on the persons who fabricate fake antiquities.”
“They encourage the tomb robbers. When a villager sees what he can get for a fake, it spurs them on to find t
he real thing, which they can sell for a much greater price.”
“I know,” she said. “Thousands of pounds of valuable statuary go wandering away from their ancestral homes. I deplore the practice.”
The butler returned. “Dr. Mystery can spare you five minutes, sir.”
They were shown into a small, pleasant drawing room, decorated in light blue and cream, rather as though they were standing beneath a Wedgwood bowl turned upside down. Though the style hadn’t been fashionable for some thirty years, it breathed serenity and charm. The windows, framed in blue silk, looked out onto a tiny square of garden, dazzling in the sunshine. The contrast between this elegantly decorated salon and the shabby rooms of Mrs. Pierce, unusual only for their hard-won cleanliness, was all but dizzying in its completeness.
Julia said, “He must be a very extraordinary man, this Dr. Mystery.”
“Oh, but I am!”
Somehow, neither Julia nor Simon had been looking in quite the right direction when Dr. Mystery came into the room. He was just there, as though he had popped up out of a trapdoor. He nodded to the butler, who was behind him carrying a perfectly enormous tea tray.
“I do hope you’ll take some refreshment. Won’t you sit down?” His soft shoes were silent as he crossed the parquet floor and stepped onto the carpet.
“Nothing for me, thanks,” Simon said curtly. “What we’ve come for is—
“But surely your charming companion will take tea? Or is she also afraid of what might be in it?”
“No,” she said, despite Simon’s frown. “I should like a cup. I’m more than a little bit thirsty. Riding around London is hot work.”
“I also find London stifling in the summer.”
“Is that why you’re getting out?” Simon demanded rudely.
“Getting out?” Dr. Mystery’s face was a perfect blank. Nobody could have read his feelings regarding Simon’s rudeness. “But I am not leaving town. Merely postponing my work for some few days.”
Julia hadn’t known just what to expect. She knew Simon’s prejudice against this man and had been, all unconsciously, allowing his view to color her own. Now she studied him with unbiased curiosity.
Dr. Mystery was a smaller, slighter man than Simon, and Mrs. Pierce had been right when she called his mustache and small imperial “comical.” Furthermore, he wore a plum-colored suit, which even to Julia’s untutored eyes looked eccentric. A glittering ring flashed from his smallest finger while another gold ring constrained his tie. He seemed foppish and inconsequential.
Then Julia met his eyes over the cup of tea he handed her and, startled by what she saw, hurriedly revised all her views.
“Oh, yes,” he said, just as though he were reading her mind. “I am a true believer, Miss ... may I know your name’.’“
“Julia Hanson.”
“Julia Hanson.” Suddenly, he smiled with warm satisfaction. “It suits you.”
‘Thank you. Have you a Christian name?”
“Basil. Or Randall. Or Guillermo. Once I was Brain, which means ‘raven.’ I lived in a quiet village on the north coast of Ireland. The Vikings ended that incarnation. With violent suddenness. But I don’t like to remember that.”
Julia looked uncertainly toward Simon. But he, with a woof of disgust, had turned his back to look down into the garden. “Naturally not.”
“Life before our own time was so often nasty, brutish, and short. Believe me, I remember. Now, however, we can say we have reached the pinnacle of civilization.”
“I would agree with you,” Julia said, “were it not that every civilization says the same thing. Every government, every religion, every philosophy is certain of its own superiority.”
He smiled as though she were a backward pupil who finally lucked upon the right answer. “You are very clever. I should like to find out about your previous existences. Will you permit me to feel your head?”
Simon turned around at that. “Absolutely not!”
Dr. Mystery did not flick so much as a glance in Simon’s direction. Julia might have almost imagined that the spiritualist did not know the archaeologist was there for all the notice he took of him. “Does he speak for you?” Are you—perhaps—engaged to be married?”
She saw Simon’s back stiffen. “No to both questions, Dr. Mystery. Actually, no to all three. The bumps on my head shall have to wait until another time.”
“I would actually prefer to read your palm. Phrenology is such an inexact science, Miss Hanson.”
“Science? Bah!” Simon said explosively.
Once again, Dr. Mystery’s ability to ignore what he didn’t choose to notice was masterly. He lifted a plate. “Do you care for cake?”
Julia, who wasn’t hungry for the sticky confection, took it just to be polite. It seemed to be sponge cake cut in half. The two parts were put together again, oozing a brownish-pink custard. It did not look wholesome, but Dr. Mystery ate one with every appearance of enjoyment, even licking his longish fingers when he thought no one was looking.
“I am curious about one subject, Dr. Mystery.”
“It will be my pleasure to tell you whatever you want to know, Miss Hanson. Provided ... but it is unhandsome of me to make conditions. Ask your questions and then, if you are agreeable, you will answer mine?”
She didn’t answer that one. “Why did you go to see Mrs. Pierce today?”
“Mrs.... who?”
“The charwoman?”
“Ah, forgive me. I did not trouble to inquire her name.”
“Why did you go to see her?”
“You are tenacious. Miss Hanson. That is an excellent quality.”
Julia gave him one of her very brightest smiles. “Therefore, you might as well answer, for I’ll not grow tired of asking.”
“I thought you and your companion might be interested in why I have decided to suspend my poor attempts to help my clients.”
“That, too,” Julia said. “But, leaving that subject for the moment, why did you ... ?”
Dr. Mystery raised his hands in defeat. “Don’t you already know why? The reason for my seeking out Mrs. Pierce is the same as the reason I am setting aside my efforts. When I saw you last night with Mr. Archer, I felt compelled to learn all about you. You are my one interest now.”
Julia had not expected such an answer. She could only stare at the strange little man. Simon, however, did not seem stunned. He walked over and lifted Dr. Mystery straight out of his chair, holding him only by his lapels.
Dr. Mystery’s almost unearthly composure was disturbed at last. He clutched Simon’s wrists, his dark eyes wide with fear. “What... what... ?”
Julia yelped, “No! Please....”
Not listening, Simon shook Dr. Mystery vigorously, until the smaller man’s head hobbled like a toy’s. Then he dropped him back into his scat with a teeth-rattling jar. “That’s for impertinence,” he said levelly, tossing the hair out of his eyes.
Dr. Mystery’s face was as red as a Turkish carpet, clashing terribly with his plum-colored suit. He glanced at Julia, who’d watched the performance deeply chagrined. Though she had not liked the appraising look in his deep eyes when he’d said she was the reason for his talking to Mrs. Pierce, she had wanted to find out more. She feared now that the opportunity to question Dr. Mystery further was lost through Simon’s impetuosity.
“I’m terribly sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Dr. Mystery said, tugging his tie into place. “The man’s spirit is pure barbarian.”
“Don’t apologize to him!” Simon said. “That’s for him to do.”
Dr. Mystery pursed his small red lips. “I will gladly apologize to Miss Hanson, but not under duress. I’m sorry if your ‘friend’ put the wrong interpretation on my words. I meant them in no infamous sense. I merely wish to express my deep admiration for the young lady.”
“Admiration?” Julia asked.
He moved as though to take her hand. Julia, recalling with what relish he’d licked his ringers, evad
ed his touch by lifting her teacup. He settled for pressing his right hand to his heart. “Deepest and most profound admiration. If ever you need the particular kind of help I can offer, please call upon me. Day or night, at any hour, I stand ready to serve you.”
“Thank you, but I don’t...”
Simon came to stand by her chair. “Come along, Julia. We’re leaving. I’ve had quite enough of this.”
Though she’d never before seen Simon in such a temper, she could almost feel the angry heat he radiated. She should have allowed him to persuade her to stay behind while he interviewed Dr. Mystery. Then she could have come later, by herself. Now, she felt the only thing to do was to leave with him before he further alienated the spiritualist.
“Good day, Dr. Mystery,” she said pleasantly. “I don’t understand you. But it has been a... an experience to meet you.”
He rose when she did and bowed profoundly. “We will meet again, Miss Hanson. If not in this life ...”
Chapter Fourteen
On the street, Simon began to walk. He set a pace that Julia could only just match. Even then, she had to make the occasional skip to keep up. She was breathless by the time they reached the park, several blocks away, and it was only there that he spoke to her.
“That pip-squeak!”
He walked on. She could imagine him striding like this across the burning sands of Egypt, working out a problem in his mind. Fortunately she was fond of a walk herself. Many were the days she’d put an apple in the pocket of her favorite homely dress and gone for a long tramp over hill and dale. If it had not been for the fact that Yorkshire is hilly while London is flat, she doubted she could have kept up with Simon at all. But her legs were in excellent condition. It was her wind that worried her. He walked so very fast.
“Simon,” she panted. “If you would only listen!”
“I knew what he was like. I saw how he looked at those girls there last night. It isn’t only money he wants, oh, no. He wants to get people in his power. With women the best way to do that is...” He shrugged his broad shoulders as Julia hung on his words. “I should be thrashed for taking you within a hundred miles of ‘Dr. Mystery.’ “