Eliza lifted her head with an effort, and for several moments a searching gaze took in the person before her. ‘Please do come in,’ she said. ‘Anna, please ask Mary to send up some refreshments. I do so hope there are almond biscuits.’
‘Of course,’ said Anna.
Mina followed Eliza into a sitting room, where a small couch, heaped with quilts and pillows, was undoubtedly the only location where the occupant could sleep in comfort. There was a low easy chair, which was provided with a special cushion, angled so that when Eliza was seated her body tilted back and she could see the person who was with her without having to strain her neck. Even so, Mina could see that it would be hard for Eliza to maintain her position without assistance, since her head was of normal size, and the neck not strong enough to support it for long. As she wondered at this, Eliza indicated where she should sit, and prodding the tip of her stick into a groove on the side of the chair, and placing one foot on a low stool, stepped neatly, almost nimbly, into position. When she was comfortably settled she placed a padded collar around her neck, and rested her chin on it. Mina could only admire her hostess’s independence, the confidence with which she inhabited her confined yet comfortable world.
From the portraits in the parlour below Mina could see that Anna most closely resembled her father, whereas Dr Hamid and Eliza both had the oval face and sculpted cheekbones of their mother. Mina had been told that Eliza was fifty, twice her own age, but pain and the constant fight to draw breath had drawn savage lines in her otherwise youthful skin.
‘And now,’ said Eliza, ‘let us talk, and I hope there will be no mention of joints or spines or bones, or any discomfort at all.’
‘I agree,’ said Mina. ‘That can be so tedious.’ She looked about her. The room was well supplied with books, and there was a table at Eliza’s elbow with an open volume, a pile of newspapers, and a pair of spectacles. ‘But I can see that you are a great reader, and we will not want for interesting subjects for our conversation.’
Eliza, it transpired, was an avid devourer of novels, histories and memoirs, and although she rarely stirred from her room, took a keen interest in the world and all its doings. By the time the maid arrived with the almond biscuits there was the unaccustomed sound of laughter in the room. Mina even revealed that she wrote stories of mystery and adventure, which excited Eliza to great admiration.
Eliza tired quickly. Talking and laughing were nourishment to her mind but a strain on her body. Mina had just begun to wonder how she might retire gracefully and leave Eliza to rest, when Anna arrived, announcing that it was time for her sister’s massage.
‘Please do come again,’ said Eliza, eagerly. ‘And you must entertain me with your stories, you really must!’
Mina promised that she would, wondering what she might have written that would be suitable. ‘If Dr Hamid is not too busy, I would very much like to speak with him before I go,’ she asked.
‘But of course,’ said Anna. ‘He is still in the parlour, and you may even find there is a sandwich left, although I very much doubt it.’
There were no sandwiches left, but Mina did not mind that. She found Dr Hamid draining the last of the tea, and looking quietly thoughtful. His was a gentle melancholy, with no room for self-pity, only a contemplation of loss and its meaning.
He looked up as she entered, and rose to his feet until she was seated. ‘I am grateful for your visit,’ he said. ‘I know that Eliza will benefit from your company.’
‘It has been my privilege,’ said Mina. ‘We had so many things to talk about, and I would very much like to call on her again. But if I may there is a subject that concerns us both which I would like to discuss with you.’
‘Please do,’ he said, surprised. He offered to ring for more refreshments, but Mina said that was not necessary.
‘The subject is Miss Eustace,’ she said.
‘Ah,’ said Dr Hamid. He picked up his empty teacup, contemplated its interior and put it down again.
‘You know my opinion of these manifestations,’ said Mina. ‘I believe them to be nothing more than conjuring, and if that was my only concern I would not be so troubled. If the lady can provide a diversion for idle minds or comfort for the bereaved, then I cannot blame her any more than if she was a fortune teller or played the piano. But what if the lady is a dangerous and calculating criminal? Some of those who profess to be mediums are really thieves. They ask for large sums of money in return for supposedly bringing messages from deceased loved ones and their poor dupes are so deep in their power that they give them all that they own. Those who go to séances simply to be entertained will not be vulnerable; no, it is the lonely and unhappy and recently bereaved who will fall victim. Is that not cruel and evil?’
‘Of course,’ he agreed readily, ‘and I believe that Miss Eustace does receive payment in the form of gifts, but these are small and voluntarily given. Do you have any evidence that she is demanding large sums of money?’
‘No,’ Mina admitted. ‘But then if someone is being gulled out of their fortune they are not going to discuss it in company. It might happen secretly and not be discovered until it is too late. And small gifts may over time become large demands.’
He looked unconvinced. ‘I cannot imagine that you would ever be gulled. Are you perhaps concerned for your mother?’
Mina paused. ‘I confess that that was my first thought, and I am sure that she does make payments to Miss Eustace, although she will not admit it to me. But outrageous villains such as Mr Home, the medium who defrauded an elderly widow of thirty thousand pounds, do not prey on ladies who have families to watch over their concerns. My mother may hand over her few guineas but she will not be asked for all her fortune. And if she should suddenly decide to transfer her funds outside the family, our solicitor or our bank will let me know, since I have dealt with the family finances since my father died. There are other ladies, however, who attend Miss Eustace’s séances, who have no relatives and manage their own affairs. I am thinking of Miss Whinstone, for example, who was in a highly nervous state even before she had heard of Miss Eustace. Her brother was all her family and he died two years ago leaving her very comfortably provided for. She undoubtedly believes that she has seen his ghost, and who knows what that might lead to.’
Mina could see that Dr Hamid, while not sharing her anxieties, clearly recognised that she was in great earnest and was giving her words serious consideration. ‘You are presumably asking for my advice?’
‘I ask for advice, or observations or any comment that might assist me,’ said Mina, with some energy. ‘I wish I did not have to trouble you with this but my brothers are rarely here for me to consult and of course they have not seen Miss Eustace for themselves or formed an opinion of her.’
‘I will endeavour to be worthy of your trust,’ said Dr Hamid, very solemnly, ‘but I find it difficult to imagine what you might do without clear evidence of wrongdoing. You cannot accuse someone of a crime, either to their face or to another person, or, more difficult still, of the intention to commit a crime, without proof. An accusation without foundation is in itself a crime.’
‘Yes,’ Mina agreed, ‘and I am not in a position to acquire evidence, especially without knowing the intended victim.’
‘Even supposing there to be one,’ said Dr Hamid. ‘You must consider the possibility that your fears are unfounded.’
In the face of such undeniable good sense, Mina did consider. ‘You are right, of course,’ she said at last, in a calmer frame of mind. ‘I have been too alarmed by reading about undoubted frauds and have concluded that Miss Eustace is of their number. But as you rightly say, I have no evidence. She may be no more than a sixpenny sideshow after all, and harmless enough. From what I have read it is private séances with a single client where mediums bent on extortion may practise their designs on an unprotected individual, and Miss Eustace does not conduct those.’ There was a long thoughtful pause. Dr Hamid looked worried, and Mina, seeing his expression, understood
. ‘Or does she? If she does, you must tell me.’
‘I think,’ he said, hesitantly, ‘I think it is possible that she may, or at least might do so if asked. There was some talk following an earlier séance; Mrs Gaskin said that Miss Eustace could do a great deal more than produce rappings and lights; she could bring personal messages from loved ones who have passed, but it was harder to do so where a crowd was gathered together, because the energy of many in once place was confusing to the spirits.’
‘Did she say that Miss Eustace was willing to conduct private consultations?’
‘She did not suggest it herself, but one of the ladies asked if such a thing was possible, and she said it might be.’
‘They are subtler than I thought,’ said Mina, ‘letting the dupes carve their own path. Did anyone actually ask her to arrange such a consultation?’
Dr Hamid looked uncomfortable. ‘No, it was just a general conversation, but the information did arouse considerable interest. It did cross my mind that …’ He shook his head. ‘No matter.’
Mina could only pity the unhappy man before her. ‘I don’t suppose there was any mention of payment?’ she said gently. ‘There so rarely is.’
‘Not in so many words.’ Dr Hamid peered into the empty teapot, and gazed thoughtfully at the crumbs on the sandwich plate, as though considering whether or not to ring for more after all.
‘You must tell me everything you can remember,’ Mina demanded. ‘A hint, a glance, an allegorical tale, there must have been some communication.’
He was surprised, but did his best. ‘There was a suggestion that only serious enquirers would benefit.’
‘By serious I suppose they mean those able to pay more than a guinea, perhaps much more,’ said Mina. ‘Of course, the Gaskins may be as much dupes as anyone else, lured by the promise of celebrity. At present, Miss Eustace feeds off them, but the professor hopes one day to publish his book, and give lectures, or even found a chair at a university.’
‘Professor and Mrs Gaskin will not be amenable to any suggestion that Miss Eustace is a trickster,’ said Dr Hamid, ‘and those of her devotees who choose to pay large sums for consultations may pronounce themselves satisfied with what they receive.’
‘Until they find their bank accounts empty and see what fools they have been,’ said Mina, ‘and then of course it will be too late, and I for one will regret having stood by and allowed it.’ She opened her reticule and drew out the booklet about Mr Home, and the pages of the Dialectical Society report which included Dr Edmunds’s statement. ‘Please borrow these and read them,’ she said. ‘It will show you that the dangers are very real, and also how a clever man, a medical man, was not deceived by performances which fooled others. In the case of Mr Home, the law did take his victim’s part, but it was only after she herself accused him, and she was fortunate in that she acted quickly and was able to recover her funds. Others might not be so prompt, and what consolation would it be to them if they saw the criminals put in prison but were themselves left destitute? Once you have read this, we will speak again and decide what to do.’
He raised his eyebrows, possibly at the word ‘we’, but took the pages from her. ‘I am really not sure what can be done,’ he said. ‘You cannot force a victim of a crime to take action if they do not believe there has been a crime. They would undoubtedly defend Miss Eustace against any allegations, and the only person to suffer would be you.’
‘You are right, of course,’ said Mina, ‘and I do appreciate that to accuse someone of a felony without evidence is a serious matter. But what I might perhaps be able to do is demonstrate that Miss Eustace is a false medium. If I succeeded then her dupes would abandon her and she would not be able to part innocent victims from their money.’
‘And if her powers prove to be genuine?’ Dr Hamid pointed out. ‘We must not have closed minds.’
‘If she is genuine,’ said Mina, ‘then she should delight in having her powers put to the test. She should welcome all and every test that there is; she should ask to be tested, demand it. If she is proven to be true it can only add to her fame, and increase the numbers of her devotees. I would follow her myself.’
‘But Professor Gaskin has already been testing her powers and is satisfied that they are genuine,’ Dr Hamid objected, ‘and he has a world of experience and special apparatus. Could you carry out a test that would be any better than he could perform?’
‘Yes, I could,’ said Mina, ‘because he seeks to measure the phenomena and not to question them. I suppose I could ask if I might move about the room during the proceedings but I feel quite certain that that would never be allowed. In fact the arrangement of the room and the conduct of the séance, the holding of hands, the positioning of Professor and Mrs Gaskin – all these things are designed to ensure that no one can rise from their seat, or even turn and look about them without anyone else knowing about it.’
‘Miss Eustace would no doubt protest that such movement would disturb her energy,’ said Dr Hamid.
‘No doubt,’ said Mina, dryly. ‘But can you not see that we are tied to our seats as much as she? The conditions she demands are supposedly to ensure that she is best able to produce phenomena, but do they not also aid deception and prevent us from applying unwanted tests?’
He looked down at the papers in his hands.
‘The full document is some four hundred pages,’ said Mina.
‘Which I am sure you have read in its entirety,’ he said. ‘This will suffice me for the present. Was there anything in the report to suggest how you might proceed?’
‘No, only because the authors were too trusting or lacked boldness. I only know that we must expose the fraud in a manner that cannot be denied; act quickly and decisively; give her no warning of what we mean to do.’ Mina gave the matter some thought while Dr Hamid looked on silently, his expression suggesting mounting disquiet, if not for the fate of the widows of Brighton then for Mina.
‘I think,’ she said at last, ‘that if there is another apparition we must find some means of seizing it before it disappears. If it is truly the ghost of Archibald Whinstone then it will melt into mist. If it is a mop with a false beard then we will show it to the company for what it is, and Miss Eustace will be quite exploded.’
‘But if it was a mop with a false beard, which it may have been, it was wielded by no hand that we could see, appeared from nowhere and then vanished again,’ Dr Hamid reminded her. ‘Can you explain that?’
‘I can explain nothing as yet,’ said Mina. ‘There are too many things that we are not allowed to see or touch. If we were to take matters into our own hands, however, the explanation may become apparent.’
‘I think we ought to proceed very carefully,’ said Dr Hamid, cautiously. ‘I do not wish to insult a lady. Perhaps we might ask her – in the interests of science – if she would submit to a test.’
‘Which she would either refuse, or else, since she has warning of our intentions, arrange matters to her own liking,’ said Mina, frustrated that he did not share the urgency of her concern. ‘We must surprise her.’
He shook his head. ‘Even if I was willing to consent to such a thing, which, I must make it clear, I am not, since from what you say it seems to involve committing an assault, I think it is impossible to make a plan as we have no means of knowing what we might be presented with. So far each of Miss Eustace’s demonstrations has differed from the others. The phenomena we saw on the last occasion were unlike anything I have seen before.’
Mina realised that, while interested in the issue as an intellectual question, he was not as determinedly sceptical as she and quite unwilling to take the bull by the horns. He of course, as a professional man, had far more to lose by making a public demonstration. ‘Do you agree,’ she said, ‘that the matter is of some importance, and that at the very least we should continue to attend Miss Eustace’s séances and keep our eyes and ears open and see what more we can learn?’
To that he was more than happy to agree.
Mina realised that she had quite a task in hand if she was to bring Dr Hamid unreservedly on to her side. To expose trickery might need a capability for rapid action, and a measure of size and strength, all of which were beyond her. Dr Hamid had these attributes but he lacked her conviction and recklessness.
It was with this in mind that the very next day Mina went to see Anna Hamid at the baths and asked if she might be shown how to do the strengthening exercises. Anna, detecting a fresh and possibly dangerous determination in her visitor, was careful to warn Mina not to try to do too much at once. She demonstrated some simple movements that required no apparatus, the raising and lowering of the arms, or extending and holding them out to the sides. Some further exercises could be carried out while holding a light staff, such as a broom handle. She told Mina that she must not on any account twist her body or make jumps, and if any exercise caused her a moment’s discomfort she should stop at once. Only when Mina had mastered these simple callisthenics and could perform them properly and without pain should she take the next step. Mina asked what the next step might be and Anna declined to reveal this in case Mina decided to press ahead with it before she was ready. It was, of course, exactly what Mina had in mind, but she was obliged to accept the inevitable and do as Anna directed her. One day, she promised herself, she would be strong.
Eight
Mina returned home to find her mother with a sour and angry expression, drinking hot tea and stabbing at a currant cake as if it had mortally offended her. Louisa’s ruse to excite the cream of Brighton society with the accomplishments of Mr Bradley had worked rather too well. The clamour for his healing circle had become so great that he had been obliged to inform her that the Scarletti parlour was now quite inadequate to accommodate all the attendees and he had instead hired a nearby meeting room for his next gathering. Louisa, who had hoped that Mr Bradley’s popularity would result in further fashionable salons chez Scarletti, was understandably annoyed. Mina tried to soothe her mother by suggesting that she could still hold elegant social events at home, a literary or musical circle perhaps. She was a little mollified and Mina, to her immense relief, soon saw her engaged with new plans that did not involve Mr Bradley.
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