The Anatomy of Ghosts

by Andrew Taylor

  ‘It is quite all right, Mr Cross,’ Lady Anne said graciously. ‘How did the man seem to you?’

  ‘He is in much-reduced circumstances, I fear, and his misfortunes have weighed heavily on him. But there is no doubt that he has the ability to deal with the library – as you instructed, I made extensive inquiries on that point before approaching him. As to the man himself, he is younger than I expected. He has a fine person – vigorous, and well set up.’

  ‘A point in his favour,’ Lady Anne said. ‘You may continue.’

  ‘He said little, but what he did say was very much to the point, madam. I would say he has a prudent nature and is a man of some determination. All in all, my first impression was favourable.’

  Lady Anne thanked him and the steward withdrew. When they were alone again, she turned to Elinor.

  ‘You see, my dear. I have taken your hint.’

  ‘Dear madam, I pray the plan will not go amiss. I would not for the world –’

  ‘Then let us hope it does not go amiss,’ Lady Anne interrupted, her voice suddenly sharp. ‘Tomorrow we shall discover whether the author of The Anatomy of Ghosts believes he can practise what he preaches.’

  4

  There was money here but not extravagance. A tradesman grows acute in judging such matters. The house in Golden Square had been new and fashionable at the turn of the century but it was neither of those things now. But it had an air of sober comfort, Holdsworth thought, rarely found in the houses of those who are newly rich or who live high on long credit.

  The footman conducted Holdsworth across the hall, through an anteroom and into a long and shabby apartment at the back of the house. The books were everywhere – in cases ranged along the walls, stacked on tables and the floor, overflowing from the doorway of a closet at the end of the room.

  ‘Mr Holdsworth, my lady,’ announced the footman.

  Lady Anne Oldershaw was sitting by the nearer of the two windows with a volume open on the table beside her. She signalled Holdsworth to approach. She was small and thin, with features so sharp and delicate they might have been cut in wax by a razor. She could have been almost any age between forty and seventy. Her face was coated very thickly with ceruse, so perhaps the skin beneath had been scarred by the smallpox; for that was an evil that neither wealth nor breeding could guard against.

  ‘Mr Holdsworth,’ she said in a dry, remote voice. ‘Good morning to you.’

  ‘Madam.’ He bowed low. ‘I am honoured to be of service to your ladyship.’

  ‘You have not been of service yet. It remains to be seen whether you will be.’

  ‘Yes, my lady.’

  He waited for her to say what she wanted. She remained silent, studying him with a complete lack of self-consciousness. After a moment he looked away from her white face. Despite the room’s contents, he thought, it was clearly only a makeshift library. The books had been arranged by someone who neither knew nor cared that they were undoubtedly valuable. His eyes fixed on a precarious pile standing on an open escritoire between the windows; they should not have been left like that. There was a similar pile on the table beyond it beside an armchair –

  There was another person in the room. The armchair placed before the second window had its back to the room. Holdsworth saw a woman’s cap over the top of the chair and, on one of the arms, an open book with a long hand resting motionless on the page.

  Lady Anne clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. She looked past Holdsworth at the footman. ‘I shall ring if I need you, James.’

  The footman bowed and silently withdrew.

  ‘Mr Cross has told you that I wish to discuss the disposal of my late husband’s library,’ Lady Anne said. ‘You see some of it in this room. There are more books, but they are still in the country. You are familiar with the collection, I apprehend?’

  ‘Only by reputation, madam.’

  ‘I have decided to dispose of the bulk of the library. But first I wish to know what it contains, and indeed what value it has.’

  ‘Would you wish to sell what you dispose of as a single lot, or in –?’

  ‘I do not intend to sell any of it. In any case I do not wish to consult you solely or even chiefly about the books.’

  ‘I’m afraid I do not catch your meaning, madam.’

  ‘That is because I have not expressed it to you yet.’ She waited while half a minute crawled by, emphasizing her power to control the pace and direction of the interview. ‘I wish to consult you about ghosts.’

  ‘I beg your pardon, my lady. I did not quite catch what you said.’

  ‘I think you heard me perfectly well. I wish to consult you about ghosts. About a particular ghost.’

  After that, silence fell on the room. It was broken only by a rustle as the woman in the armchair turned over a page of her book. Lady Anne sucked in her cheeks, and for a moment he had a fancy that instead of flesh and blood there was nothing but a skull in a lace cap looking up at him.

  ‘I am a bookseller by trade, ma’am. I am not a ghost hunter or anything of that nature. Your ladyship must look elsewhere.’

  ‘I do not agree. I have read your – your squib. You seem eminently qualified to advise upon the subject.’

  Holdsworth spread his hands wide. ‘I wrote in anger. As a way of assuaging grief.’

  ‘I do not doubt it, sir. But that is not to the point. I understand that your late wife was preyed upon by one who claimed falsely to be in communication with the world of ghosts. You set out to expose the cheat, but you did more than that. You revealed that the claims of those who believe in ghosts are baseless. With the possible exception of direct divine intervention, such stories may all be reduced to instances of popular superstition in the minds of the uneducated, or to tricks and pranks played upon the credulous, often in the hope of material advantage. That was your argument, which you pursued with great force.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I cannot put myself up as an authority.’

  ‘You do not need to do so.’ She sounded bored now. ‘I wish to put a proposition to you.’

  ‘About his lordship’s library?’

  ‘I told you: I wish to consult you about an apparition. An alleged apparition. But as it happens the matter is inextricably entangled with his lordship’s books and what becomes of them. So I offer you two commissions: and if you accept the one, you must accept the other.’

  ‘Madam, I do not understand what you wish me to do.’

  ‘There is no mystery about it. You have shown that those who prey on the credulous with their tales of ghosts are frauds. You began with a particular case, it is true, but you argued from that to the general. The tools that such people use for their foul trade are spirits, apparitions, hauntings and superstitions; but they trade in dreams, Mr Holdsworth, they trade in other people’s dreams. You have brought the resources of reason to bear upon their evil practices and you have shown them for what they are: traps to gull fools, snares to entangle the fearful. They are nothing but leeches, and they prey upon the sorrows of the innocent. You made all that as clear as day.’

  ‘Much good it did me. Or anyone else.’

  He caught a movement at the edge of his range of vision. The woman by the other window had craned her head round to the back of her chair and was looking at him. He had a brief impression of a long face with heavy, dark brows above the eyes and a fringe of hair below the cap.

  ‘You have done it once,’ Lady Anne said. ‘You will do it again. You will not find me ungenerous, for I have a particular reason for desiring you to do this. And there is also considerable work to be done with the bishop’s library. I offer you the chance to better yourself while doing me a very material service. Moreover, in doing so, you may be able to help save a soul from despair, if not from perdition. Surely both self-interest and your duty as a Christian must point in the same direction?’

  He said nothing. The ceruse gave her face the chalky whiteness that counterfeited death. Maria had been just such a colour at the end,
though without the benefit of white lead. He wondered how Lady Anne knew so much about his case. He wondered even more what on earth she really wanted him to do.

  She tapped her fingers on the surface of the table. ‘Well, sir?’

  ‘Madam, I – I am undecided.’

  ‘It is a simple enough decision, Mr Holdsworth.’

  ‘But there is much I do not understand.’

  ‘Then I shall try to enlighten you.’ Lady Anne fell silent. She turned her head and stared out of the window, which gave on to a narrow yard bounded by high brick walls. Soot-spotted shrubs lined a gravel path that bisected the area. ‘Let us discuss the matter of the library first. Are you familiar with Jerusalem College?’

  ‘Jerusalem?’ For a moment he thought he must have misheard. ‘Ah – perhaps you refer to the college in Cambridge, madam?’

  ‘Exactly so.’ She looked at him again. ‘My family has a connection with it. Indeed, one of my forebears was its Founder and the bishop was once a fellow there. So I have been turning over in my mind whether I might donate his books to the college. But before I decide, I wish to inquire into the present state of the college’s library. I do not choose that my husband’s collection should go to an unworthy recipient.’

  ‘Would your ladyship wish me to go to Cambridge on your behalf?’

  She ignored the question. ‘And then there is the matter of the collection here, which needs to be catalogued and valued before I make my decision. I may decide to hold back some of the books. Indeed, some of the collection may not be appropriate for a college library.’

  Holdsworth thought it very likely. He had seen the libraries of too many men, both living and dead, to be surprised by what they contained. A man’s library was like his mind: some of its contents might not be suitable for young gentlemen at the University, or indeed for his grieving widow or his fatherless children.

  ‘And there is another reason,’ Lady Anne went on, ‘why I wish you to go to Cambridge. It has to do with my son, Frank. He was admitted a fellow-commoner at Jerusalem last year. He has not been well. I wish you to investigate the circumstances that have led to his ill health and to bring him home.’

  ‘Madam, I am neither a physician nor a nursemaid.’ He wondered when they would come to the ghost. ‘I am afraid I must decline at least that part of the commission, because I can be of no earthly use to your son.’

  ‘Earthly use?’ she repeated, and she pulled back her lips revealing beneath the whiteness of her face three yellowing teeth set in glossy pink gums. ‘Earthly use?’ she said once more. ‘Some would say that is not what is needed. Mr Holdsworth, my son is not strong. His body is indeed robust, but his mind – that is where his infirmity lies. He is now in the care of a physician in Barnwell, a village near Cambridge. I must be plain with you but first I must require you to treat what I have to say as a confidence that must not be repeated to anyone outside the walls of this room.’

  Holdsworth’s eyes strayed involuntarily towards the younger lady by the other window. ‘If you choose to honour me with a confidence, you may depend upon its remaining safe with me.’

  Lady Anne was silent. Holdsworth listened to the sound of his own breathing, suddenly unnaturally loud. There was a creak from the younger lady’s chair.

  ‘The long and short of it is that my son believes he has seen a ghost,’ Lady Anne said abruptly. She glared at him, as though expecting him to challenge this statement. ‘He is an impressionable young man, and this wild misapprehension, which was almost certainly exacerbated by youthful high spirits and the taking of too much wine, is the immediate cause of his state of health. You will apprehend now why your qualifications are of particular interest to me. I believe my son is not beyond reach of reason. You will look into his alleged sighting of this apparition on my behalf. You will demonstrate to him that it was a delusion. I believe it may be the first stage towards his cure. Indeed, it may be all he requires.’

  Lady Anne stopped speaking and looked straight ahead. It was an unnerving experience, as if she had suddenly turned herself into a statue.

  ‘A delusion, madam? Was it caused by a mere accidental combination of circumstances? Or was there’ – and here he hesitated, remembering poor Maria’s case – ‘was there another party involved, and therefore something deliberate or contrived about it?’

  ‘That I cannot tell. There is much that is obscure. So long as you find out the truth of the matter and can prove it to the world, it don’t much signify.’

  ‘Young men at the University have been known to play waggish pranks upon one another.’

  ‘An action with such evil consequences could not be classified as a mere prank. If this happened by design, I am persuaded that there is malevolence behind it.’

  ‘Had the ghost a name, my lady?’ Holdsworth asked.

  ‘My son is convinced that he encountered the deceased wife of an acquaintance, a Mrs Whichcote. The circumstances of her death may perhaps be germane to the matter. If necessary, you will inquire into them.’

  ‘There can be no guarantee of success. Not with a commission of this nature.’

  ‘But you will be successful. And when you are, I will lend you the money you require to discharge any debts you have, and on terms you will not find ungenerous. Moreover I shall instruct Mr Cross to pay you an honorarium for the business you transact on my behalf, and the expenses you incur in doing so, whether the business has to do with my son or with the cataloguing and disposal of my late husband’s library.’

  ‘I am overwhelmed by your ladyship’s kindness,’ Holdsworth said. ‘But I have not yet decided whether –’

  She held up a small hand. ‘Stay a minute, sir. I do not wish you to decide before you know the full circumstances, before you know exactly what you may meet with in Cambridge. I could not allow that to lie on my conscience. Be so good as to ring the bell.’

  He did as she asked. A moment later the footman entered the room.

  ‘Ask Mr Cross to step in here.’

  The servant withdrew as silently as he had come. Holdsworth heard movement at the other end of the room. The lady by the window had at last left her chair, and was advancing towards him. She was almost as tall as he was. She was plainly dressed and appeared perfectly self-possessed. Her thin face and heavy features would have prevented her from being considered beautiful. But she was undeniably striking.

  Lady Anne smiled at her. ‘Well, Elinor?’

  ‘I should like to see how Mr Cross does for myself. And besides, perhaps I should make myself known to Mr Holdsworth. After all, it is possible that we may meet again.’

  Lady Anne nodded. ‘Elinor, may I present Mr Holdsworth? And Mr Holdsworth, this is Mrs Carbury, my goddaughter.’

  He bowed low. She gave an almost imperceptible curtsy in return, examining him as though appraising his value in pounds, shillings and pence. Her eyes were blue, with the whites very bright and pure, and fringed with long dark lashes. Holdsworth thought that her eyes and her skin, which was unblemished, would probably be accounted her best features. Something about her struck him as familiar. But he could not have met her before.

  ‘If you go to Cambridge,’ Lady Anne said to him, ‘you will see something of Mrs Carbury. Her husband is the Master of Jerusalem.’

  There was a tap on the door, and Mr Cross entered the room. He wore the same brown coat and scarf as before, and his right hand was stained with ink as if he had been engaged in writing when Lady Anne’s summons had come to him.

  ‘I have unfolded my proposition to Mr Holdsworth,’ Lady Anne told him. ‘At least in outline. However, I cannot in all conscience allow him to move any further in this matter without showing him why he would be advised to go cautiously if he wishes to avoid any – any discomfort.’

  Mr Cross glanced at Holdsworth and then back to her. ‘As I said, Mr Holdsworth is strong,’ he observed in a whisper. ‘He has that on his side.’

  ‘Indeed. Pray remove your scarf.’

  Mrs Carbury came a step
closer.

  Mr Cross undid the loose knot that held the scarf, let the ends fall away, and freed his neck from its folds.

  Holdsworth stared fixedly at what was revealed. Mrs Carbury sighed.

  ‘Mr Cross will not object if you inspect more closely,’ Lady Anne said to him. ‘Of course these things look worse as they begin to heal.’

  Holdsworth came closer to the little man and looked down at his neck. Mr Cross obligingly tilted his head this way and that. The skin above the Adam’s apple was marked with a smudged and swollen circlet of purple and blue. He swallowed, and a grimace passed across his face as though even that movement caused him discomfort.

  ‘You must be on your guard if you see my son, sir,’ Lady Anne said. ‘He tried to strangle Mr Cross.’

  5

  When Holdsworth left Golden Square that morning, he did not know whether he would accept Lady Anne’s commission. He could not rid himself of the memory of Elinor Carbury’s face. He walked slowly down towards the river. It was only when he reached the Strand that he realized Mrs Carbury reminded him in some way that he did not entirely understand of Maria. Maria had been fair-complexioned and small of stature, whereas Mrs Carbury was dark and tall. But the two women had a similar build, and a similar habit of looking very directly at one.

  The Strand was full of shoppers and noise. He walked slowly towards the City. After all that had happened, he was very tired. He was foced to stop on Ludgate Hill, where three sedan chairs and their bearers had entangled themselves; the chairs were swaying dangerously and the bearers were swearing, and the chairs’ occupants were rapping on the glass and, in one case, screaming. Through the racket, Holdsworth heard somebody behind him say his name. When he turned he found Mrs Farmer was at his shoulder with a basket on either arm. Her face was pink, the skin damp with the heat.

  ‘Madam – good day to you.’ Holdsworth tried to bow but the crowd made that difficult.