“Was that true?” Eliza asked.
He snorted. “A self-serving lie. Pentwater assumed my men and I had died. And he didn’t want to send search parties in case they discovered Mato Matlan themselves.”
Higgins snapped his fingers. “A couple of years ago I read about some Americans looking for a lost city in Brazil. Didn’t pay much attention to it. Thought it was one more futile search for El Dorado. But I wager Pentwater paid for that expedition, using the information you had given him.”
“He did. But they never found anything, thank God.”
Higgins doubted anyone would. Legendary lost cities usually remain no more than that.
He looked over at Brakefield. “It seems Monsieur Corbet is not the only guest who had motive and the opportunity to put an end to Dwight Pentwater.”
“That is a lie!” Sir Anthony shouted. “How dare you insult me in such a manner?”
Lady Annabel looked offended as well. “What a beastly thing to say, Henry. I thought you were a scholar and a gentleman.”
“A scholar, for certain. As for being a gentleman. . .” Eliza shrugged.
“My wife and I will not remain at Banfield Manor a moment longer.” Sir Anthony glared at Higgins. “You have impugned my reputation. And dared to call me a murderer!”
“I simply said you had a reason to wish Mr. Pentwater ill. As Philippe did. But that does not mean either of you killed him.” Higgins gave a rueful smile. “Indeed, I’m still not convinced the chap was murdered. It seems more likely that one of you is simply a terrible shot.”
“And I am not convinced that one of Lord Ashmore’s guests did not deliberately aim their gun at the American.” Brakefield regarded Philippe for a long moment. “An arrest at this time would be premature. The information about Sir Anthony has shed new light on the investigation, since both men had a reason to want Pentwater dead.” He put up his hand to prevent either one from protesting. “I came here today to interrogate each one of you privately. That seems more urgent than ever. Especially if I learn another of you also nursed vengeful feelings against the American.”
Philippe looked relieved. Sir Anthony did not.
Brakefield turned to his men. “Stevens, take Sir Anthony into the study. Detective Foster, put Corbet in the library. Remain with him until I am finished with Sir Anthony.”
The two detectives took Sir Anthony and Philippe away.
The chief constable now directed his attention to the rest of the house party. “Each of you will be questioned. Wait in the drawing room until I call for you.” Brakefield gave a brief nod to Richard, mindful that he was giving orders in another man’s house. No one spoke until he left.
The butler gestured for the two footmen to return below stairs, then asked Richard, “Can I do anything, my lord?”
“Tea in the gold drawing room, please,” he said. Baxter bowed.
“Scones and teacakes, too,” Clara added. “It’s almost time for elevenses.”
“Isn’t this a fine kettle of fish,” Eliza said. “I wonder who else might have wanted to put Mr. Pentwater in the ground.”
“It wasn’t my husband,” Lady Annabel said curtly. “Of that I am certain.”
“And I know Monsieur Corbet is innocent.” Madame Evangeline leaned against Mr. Batur for support.
“Madame Evangeline, why don’t you ask your spirits?” Freddy suggested.
“I believe she has told us quite enough.” Higgins laughed. “In fact, her latest revelation should keep the police occupied with Sir Anthony for hours.”
“That is not funny, Henry,” Lady Annabel chided him.
“It is not up to me, Mr. Eynsford Hill.” Madame Evangeline sounded exhausted. “The spirits choose the time and place to come through. As they did just now. Otherwise I must implore them to show themselves by holding a séance.”
“Let’s have a séance then,” Freddy said. “Sounds like a bit of fun.”
“What a ghoulish idea.” Lily shivered. “Who wants to talk to a bunch of ghosts?”
“Freddy’s right.” Eliza ignored her. “Who knows what else the spirits may say during an actual séance?” She looked over at Richard and Clara.
Like her brother, Clara appeared delighted by the idea. “What a splendid plan.”
Richard seemed less delighted, but nodded. “Madame Evangeline?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. I sense that my spirits will welcome the chance to speak again. We will have a séance tonight and let the dead join our company.”
Although Higgins didn’t put much faith in séances, he thought the “dead” might prove entertaining. Like a skilled magician, Madame Evangeline probably had more tricks up her sleeve. He also suspected she possessed a few secrets she had yet to reveal.
14
An anxious Eliza waited to see if Madame Evangeline approved of the room she and Clara had chosen for the séance. Banfield Manor’s tapestry room certainly seemed appropriate for communing with the Other Side. Rich tapestry hangings on the wall not only lent an intimate air, they muffled sounds from the other parts of the house. And the candlelight which played over the scrolled plaster ceiling made one think of an earlier century.
“This room will do very well.” Madame Evangeline nodded. “I hope you don’t mind that my assistant has turned off the electric lights. I prefer candlelight when I contact the spirit world.”
Higgins wore a cynical grin. “Should we expect the ghosts to blow them out at the proper time?”
Eliza kicked him in the shin. “Is there anything else you need, Madame?”
“No, Miss Doolittle. I only hope the policeman will not interrupt us.”
“He shouldn’t,” Richard said. “Constable Stevens is only staying the night at Banfield Manor to make sure no one attempts to leave again.” He avoided glancing at Philippe, whose face flushed red.
Now that Zoltan Batur had finished lighting the candles set into the hanging chandelier, he positioned himself beside the door. Garbed once again in black, he looked like a dark phantom. Eliza wondered if some of the ghosts were afraid of him. She also wondered if he’d reclaimed his knife from the police. A sulfuric scent from the matches he had used lingered in the room. Or maybe he was the source of the unsettling aroma.
The medium scanned the house guests who waited around the table. Like her assistant, Evangeline also wore black, but her lustrous moiré silk gown shimmered in the candlelight. And while her hair was swept back in her usual bun, tiny red satin roses were pinned along the crown of her head. A crimson cashmere shawl was draped over her shoulders as well.
Evangeline raised her hands. “Welcome, everyone. Please sit.” A huge round table sat in the room’s center with a dozen needlepoint-cushioned chairs. “Tonight, I shall attempt to cross the divide between the living and the dead with the help of the Cardinal, my spirit guide. Perhaps Richelieu himself may make an appearance.”
Her words puzzled Eliza, who didn’t understand why a bird would be a spirit guide. And who the devil was Richelieu?
Clara and Richard chose seats beside each other. Philippe Corbet claimed the chair beside Evangeline, while Freddy and Lily sat across from them.
“Are you sure about this?” the actress whispered.
“Relax, Lily,” he said. “I’ll protect you from any ghosts.”
Eliza hoped a ghost would appear and send Lily screaming like a banshee back to America. Lady Annabel took the chair next to Higgins. Because Sir Anthony and the von Weisingers were already seated, Higgins had no choice but to sit on the other side of Evangeline.
Eliza settled herself in the chair beside Richard. “What do we do now?”
“Prepare yourselves, take a deep breath, and be open to whatever comes tonight.” Evangeline’s always dramatic voice intensified. Higgins snorted, but the medium appeared untroubled by his reaction. “If we fail to ready our minds, we may cause anguish to those beyond, and much sorrow.”
“Utter nonsense—”
“Professor,” Eliza
interrupted, “behave yourself.”
“He will soon learn the power of spiritual realities, the unseen intermediate place between Heaven and Hell. Please, everyone must hold hands,” Evangeline said. “A firm grasp, Professor. But not too tight, Lady Ashmore.”
Clara relaxed her hold on Richard’s hand, although her blue eyes remained wide. Eliza wasn’t happy to have Sir Anthony on her right. And he seemed even less thrilled to be here.
“Before we begin, everyone should know that I do not believe a single thing that is about to take place.” Sir Anthony’s voice was filled with resentment. “However, given what happened this afternoon, I decided it was wise to be present. Especially if Madame Evangeline decides to drag me into the conversation again.”
Evangeline only gave him a serene smile.
“I am not a man who believe in ghosts either,” the count said. “But as the host, it is my duty to see things proceed without mishap.”
Eliza heard Richard mutter something under his breath, the last sound she heard until the medium’s strong and commanding voice suddenly rang out.
“Close your eyes,” Evangeline ordered. “Place your joined hands on the table. Do not break the circle.”
“Hold on tight.” Higgins chuckled. “The table may tip.”
Evangeline leaned forward so far that the flickering lights danced on her pale skin. “You must cooperate, Professor Higgins,” she said sternly. “I am unable to concentrate on reaching through the fissure to the departed if you or anyone else displays a negative attitude in our circle. The spirits are not to be trifled with. A restless ghost might become aware of someone who is vulnerable – or insulting – and latch onto them.”
Clara gasped. “Oh, no.”
Evangeline frowned at Higgins. “Contrary energy dampens the atmosphere. It is important to remain neutral. Or polite, at the very least.”
“I do apologize, madam,” Higgins said stiffly.
Eliza wanted to congratulate Evangeline for putting him in his place.
The countess cleared his throat. “I, too, am uneasy about participating. ‘Regard not them that have familiar spirits, neither seek out wizards, to be defiled by them.’ Leviticus, chapter nineteen.”
“Verse thirty-one.” Evangeline nodded. “I know that passage and I do recognize God’s authority over every living thing and of the dead. Do you not believe that the Almighty also has powers over the supernatural beings and commands them? That He did mighty works in the past, and is capable of doing so now?”
“That may be true, but—”
“I am a mere channel, countess. God uses me to assist those who seek solace and hope. For good and not evil. So I believe. As does my priest.”
“You are Catholic?” Philippe asked, sounding relieved.
“Oui.” She smiled at him and pressed his hand. Eliza heard Zoltan Batur mutter by the door. “Before we begin, we must decide on our purpose. What is it you seek?”
“You mean, like asking the spirits a question?” Clara asked. “Richard and I once used a Ouija board, with letters and numbers on it.”
“No, Lady Ashmore. I refrain from using the Ouija or its planchette,” Evangeline said. “It can be too easily manipulated. We have several skeptics already present. I do not wish to be accused of falseness or influencing the spirits in any way.”
“We wouldn’t want that to happen,” Lady Annabel said. Eliza couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic, despite the candles’ glow on her face “When does this game begin?”
“It is not a game,” Evangeline said sharply.
“I’ve no wish to offend,” she replied. “But I do view this as a parlor game.”
Eliza wanted to box the ears of some of the people at this table. She had witnessed one of the medium’s predictions come true, and respected Madame Evangeline’s talents. A séance was serious business, not a game. Eliza had no doubt this woman would succeed in contacting the beyond – and without using tricks or devices.
“Let us continue,” Evangeline closed her eyes. “Do not panic if anything untoward happens. Again, do not break the circle. That is vital. If the spirits wish to send a message, we must accept whatever method they will use to communicate.”
“Yes, please. Let’s all concentrate,” Clara said, wriggling in her chair. “Aren’t we here to contact Mr. Pentwater in the beyond?”
“Excuse me, but I must break the circle for a moment.” Richard let go of the hands of Clara and Eliza to reach inside his inner jacket pocket. He pulled out a red feather. “I’ve read that using a possession of the deceased may help form a connection.”
Eliza recognized the red feather Pentwater had worn in his hat the morning of the hunt.
“Thank you. Lord Ashmore.” Madame Evangeline took the red feather and placed it on the table’s center.
Everyone once again clasped hands.
Closing her eyes, she began, “We beseech the spirits and request protection for those in our circle here. I seek the Cardinal, my guide in the spiritual realm. We wait, patient but eager, until he signals his coming.”
She now swayed back and forth, each movement more pronounced. Eliza was fascinated. Would Pentwater speak to them soon? Evangeline’s head bobbed as well, accompanied by a low moaning. Since no one but Evangeline had her eyes closed, Eliza could see the expressions on everyone’s faces. Clara, Richard and Philippe looked concerned, Lily and the countess distinctly nervous. But the remaining people at the table seemed suspicious. Eliza hoped their suspicions didn’t ruin the séance.
Eliza heard a small movement somewhere in the darkened room and strained to see where Zoltan Batur stood. His bulky figure, a dark mass against the ivory paneled wood, shifted a little in the candlelight.
A breeze stirred the tapestry hangings. Evangeline stiffened. “Cardinal, is that you? Give us a sign if you are here.”
Eliza shivered when one flame of the candelabra sputtered and died. Blimey, how could only one candle have blown out? Zoltan wasn’t anywhere near the table either.
“I see. . . flames.” Evangeline’s gravelly tone sounded even odder than usual. “A blazing fire and pages burning within it. The manuscript is destroyed. A life’s work.”
At a sharp intake of breath, Eliza glanced over in time to see Lady Annabel’s stricken expression.
Evangeline moaned. “Such malice. wanton destruction. The man had no right to burn it. No right.” She gave a great shudder. “Wait. Another fire? Yes!”
Higgins glanced at Eliza and mouthed silently, “Our fire?”
“I see a broken teacup. Smoke, flames. People waking in the middle of the night to escape.” She cocked her head. “This, too, was malicious.”
Was the woman referring to the kitchen fire at Wimpole Street? Only there was nothing malicious about that fire. If Higgins had accidentally caused it, such behavior could be termed careless. But not malicious. Eliza shrugged. Maybe the spirits got details wrong now and then.
“A motorcar.” Evangeline’s already deep voice lowered even more. She scarcely sounded female. “A motorcar black as night. The driver watches and waits. The Cardinal tells me this car meant to harm someone.”
Eliza sat bolt upright. Was that the black motorcar she’d seen driving up and down Wimpole Street the week before they arrived at Banfield Manor? The car she’d been so worried about, the one that may have belonged to some criminal her cousin Jack may have crossed.
Evangeline spoke again, but in a flat tone, more feminine. “So many secrets.”
“What about the black motorcar?” Eliza asked.
“Forget that,” Freddy said. “What about Pentwater? Was he murdered?”
“Murdered,” the medium moaned. “Yes. The Cardinal believes it is so.”
“Look at the feather,” Clara said in a shocked voice.
Eliza watched as the red feather trembled on the table’s surface. It moved slightly from one side, then the other. The feather shook once more before it lay still again.
“Blimey, did you
see that?” Eliza asked. Everyone looked stunned.
“It must have been a breeze,” Higgins finally said.
Eliza shook her head. A breeze from where? The windows were all closed behind the heavy velvet draperies. She stared at the feather, wishing she could touch it. But she dare not break the circle of closed hands.
Without warning, Madame Evangeline cried out. Her hands, linked with Higgins and Philippe, jerked forward into the table’s center. Their joined hands quickly moved to the left, back to the center, down to a spot closer to Higgins, and then across the table three times.
Suddenly the table trembled, as the feather had. Eliza held her breath as her side of the table lifted off the floor. Not much. Maybe an inch, but she saw and felt it move. She didn’t know whether to be excited or frightened.
“Mon Dieu!” Philippe whispered.
“That was incredible!” Clara exclaimed. “It tipped!”
Richard and Freddy seemed delighted, but Lily pulled away from the table as much as she could without letting go of anyone’s hand.
“What trickery is this?” Sir Anthony hissed.
Evangeline slumped in her chair, as if resting, then the threesome’s linked hands moved across the table in the same order as before. To the left, then right, and straight across three times. She stopped and sat back. Everyone waited.
A throaty groan now arose. It hadn’t come from Evangeline, or anyone else at the table. Chills ran up Eliza’s spine.
“The Cardinal speaks of regret and sorrow.” She kept her eyes shut. “But it is too late to recover what was foolishly lost.”
“What was lost?” Lily asked Freddy in a low voice. “Honestly, this Cardinal needs to be more specific.”
“Don’t interrupt,” Eliza said.
Clara leaned forward. “Excuse me, Mr. Cardinal, I have no wish to offend. But can you tell us what was lost?”
“What is usually lost when one gambles,” Madame Evangeline said in a monotone. “Money. A great deal of money. I see the number thirty-five.”
“What? Thirty-five pounds?” Sir Anthony smirked. “Maybe he means thirty-five dollars or francs. The Cardinal’s a frugal fellow if he thinks those sums are a great deal of money.”
With a Little Bit of Blood Page 16