If Probert had conspired with Brand, there had to be an explanation for it. From what Cribb had learnt so far of Brand’s modus operandi it was probably blackmail. And the chances were high that on the Friday evening when Brand had gone to Probert’s house to view the apparatus, he had announced his terms. Some dark secret was to be preserved provided Probert, like Miss Crush, co-operated in producing spiritualistic phenomena.
The bus slowed to pick up a passenger, the brake-shoes rasping against the iron tyres. It was a nurse, probably bound for Charing Cross Hospital. Before she approached the platform, Cribb unpeeled the largest chestnut in the bag and offered it to the small boy. Just as the little fist was about to claim it, his mother whisked the child protectively on to her lap, and a seat was provided for the nurse.
It was difficult to imagine the sort of indiscretion that could have made Dr Probert susceptible to blackmail. Unlike Miss Crush, his standing in society was not threatened if a youthful peccadillo came to light. Nor was his marriage. That first conversation with Mrs Probert, before Cribb met the doctor, had convinced him that she was indifferent to her husband’s extramarital distractions, whether they were naked goddesses or dancers from the music hall. No, it was some other thing with Dr Probert. Cribb had a shrewd idea that he would know what it was before the day was through.
For the rest of the journey he managed to retain his seat on the lower deck. From Turnham Green onwards his thoughts were on Mr Henry Strathmore, whom he had decided to interview next.
The London Directory gave the address of the Life After Death Society as Albemarle Street, as respectable a location as you could hope to find. The chambers were on the second floor, appropriately enough above the Veterans’ Club. Cribb’s knock was answered by a timid-looking young woman who explained that she was only the typewriter and Mr Strathmore was at lunch. She would be obliged if Cribb would come back at two o’clock. He consulted his watch. It was a quarter to two. He handed her his bowler and said he would wait.
‘The gentleman insisted on waiting,’ explained the typewriter apologetically when the door opened, exactly fifteen minutes later.
Strathmore jammed his monocle into place. ‘I remember you. The gentleman from Scotland-er-won’t you come into my office? Kindly step this way.’
His office would have been like any other but for the picture on the wall behind him. Instead of a portrait of the founder, it was a line-engraving of Daniel Home in horizontal levitation.
From the expression on his face Strathmore would dearly have liked to practise levitation himself at that moment, clean out of the window, down Albemarle Street and away along Piccadilly. ‘What contingency has brought you to this office, Sergeant?’ he asked.
‘Mr Brand’s death, sir,’ said Cribb, as encouragingly as he could. ‘Inspector Jowett has asked me to inquire into the circumstances.’
‘Jowett, yes,’ said Strathmore, as if something slightly offensive had been mentioned. ‘You know, it was quite a shock to learn that Jowett was a peeler. I thought he was a senior Civil Servant at the very least.’
‘I shouldn’t let it depress you, sir. Inspector Jowett isn’t one of your common peelers. He doesn’t walk the beat at nights. He’s got an office of his own and a house in South Norwood.’
‘Has he, my word? I could see there was something genuine about the fellow. Mind you, I don’t attach any importance to class, Sergeant. As a scientist, I cannot rule out the possibility that the spirits-if they exist at all-’ He held up a cautionary finger ‘-might choose to communicate with us through a medium from the labouring class.’ The finger altered in direction to point at the picture behind him. ‘Daniel Home’s father claimed to be the illegitimate son of the 10th Earl of Home, but the medium was raised in quite modest circumstances.’ He gave a thin smile, and added, ‘Perhaps “reared” would be a happier choice of word than “raised” in his particular case.’
‘For that matter, Mr Brand was only the son of a cabman,’ Cribb observed, to bring the conversation down to earth, ‘and he was getting invitations from some very well-connected people.’
‘Yes indeed! There will be a few red faces in Mayfair and Belgravia when his deceptions are generally known. He is an example, I am afraid, of the axiom that breeding will out. I must admit that I had high expectations of Brand myself.’
‘I remember, sir. You told me when I met you at Miss Crush’s house.’
‘Yes. Poor Miss Crush! She was completely taken in. As a scientist, of course, I took a more objective view of Brand. What a scoundrel he turned out to be! An impostor and an enemy of truth! The pity of it is that he enmeshed Professor Quayle in his infamous activities. I am quite sure that was the way of things, Sergeant. Quayle is at bottom a decent man, highly respected in spiritualistic circles. Brand corrupted him. He persuaded him to collaborate in his odious plot to rob the people whose houses he was visiting for seances. And now, you see, Quayle’s own reputation is in ruins. Nobody will believe that he was ever an authentic medium. This appalling affair has set back the cause of spiritualism by at least ten years!’
This interpretation of events was somewhat at variance with Cribb’s, but he had not interrupted because he saw no purpose at this stage in expounding theories of his own. Strathmore, for his part, had clearly needed to give vent to his feelings, and now looked ready to provide rational answers to questions.
‘Would you describe yourself as a spiritualist, sir?’
‘Good Lord, no! That would imply a commitment to the very things I am pledged to examine objectively. I am a scientist, no more and no less.’
‘With respect, sir, the name of your society seems to suggest that the members have made up their minds already.’
‘No more than the Ghost Club at Cambridge University, or the Society for Psychical Research. One has to provide some indication of what one proposes to investigate.’
‘I take your point, sir. And you’ve been a member for twelve years, if I remember right.’
‘Since 1873,’ Strathmore confirmed.
‘You must have investigated quite a little regiment of mediums in that time.’
‘I think I can fairly state that I played some part in most of the inquiries the Society has initiated,’ said Strathmore. ‘I dare say you have seen some marvellous sights, sir.’
‘Very few that I would dignify with that adjective, Sergeant. What might appear spectacular to the layman is of no interest to me if I can see that it is nothing more than a conjuring trick, as it usually is. If I have learned anything in these twelve years it is that the gullibility of the public is limitless.’
‘You’re still a sceptic yourself, are you, sir?’
‘I am, Sergeant, until science shows me otherwise.’
‘But you were prepared to take young Brand seriously?’
‘Yes, indeed. We take every claim seriously until we have had the opportunity of testing it.’
‘Did you know him personally, sir?’
‘Not at all. It is usually better if we do not. My first contact with the young man was the seance at Dr Probert’s on October 31st, the night that Professor Quayle took the opportunity of stealing Miss Crush’s vase. I was sufficiently impressed with that seance to decide to take a second look at Brand, and that in itself is unusual. The phenomena, you see, were not exceptional-we heard some rappings and a spirit voice, as I recall-but they were singularly difficult to account for, although you must allow that it was in no sense a scientific experiment. That came later.’
‘Was that your idea, or Dr Probert’s?’
Strathmore took out his monocle and started polishing the lens. ‘My recollection is that we were considering the possibility from the beginning, but we arranged for Brand to conduct the first seance in uncontrolled conditions to secure his co-operation. The Society has a clear policy over the matter of co-operation with mediums; we tell them exactly what the tests are to be. It really will not do to rip aside the curtains of cabinets or grab at the clothes of spirit form
s. Science is capable enough of detecting fraud without melodramatic interventions of that sort.’ He replaced the monocle firmly over his eye.
‘So you devised the test with the electrical circuit,’ said Cribb. ‘Was that an apparatus you had used before, sir?’
‘It was not. It was an invention of Probert’s, but it promised to serve a useful purpose, so I co-operated in its construction.’
‘You visited Dr Probert’s house to assemble the experiment on Wednesday of last week, I believe.’
‘I did, yes, but it seems an age ago now. I should like to emphasise that the apparatus was working perfectly at the end of Wednesday evening. We both took turns at sitting in the chair.’
‘Were arrangements made for Mr Brand to see it before Saturday?’
‘No, that was not necessary,’ said Strathmore. ‘He had agreed to put himself at the disposal of Science, so we showed it to him on Saturday at the commencement of the evening.’
‘Would it surprise you to learn that he visited Dr Probert on Friday evening and inspected the chair then?’
Strathmore’s monocle provided the answer to Cribb’s question by dropping from his eye and landing with an alarming clink on the surface of his desk. When Strathmore added, ‘Devious blighter!’ it was by no means clear whether he was referring to Brand or Probert.
‘I’d like to ask you about Saturday,’ Cribb mildly went on. ‘I’ve heard Inspector Jowett’s account, of course, but I’d like to hear yours, sir, just in case there’s something the inspector forgot. Have you by any chance prepared your report for the Society?’
‘There will be no report,’ said Strathmore firmly. ‘The Society does not exist to perpetuate the memory of charlatans like Brand. I shall give you what recollections I have, however. I take the view that we have a public duty to cooperate with the police, so you may take note of anything I say and put it in your pocket-book, Sergeant. As I recall it, the first part of the evening was devoted to a table-seance and I remember handing you a piece of paper showing the disposition of the sitters.’
‘I was grateful for that, sir.’
‘The first indication of anything unusual was Miss Crush’s observation that the temperature in the room appeared to have dropped, and that was followed by a sequence of raps on the table indicating apparently that a spirit by the name of Walter wished to get in touch. Soon after that a luminous and animated hand was observed, I believe by all present, to be present in the room, hovering above the table in front of the medium. I have no doubt that it was Brand’s right hand coated with some substance of a luminous property.’
‘You didn’t remark upon it at the time, did you?’
‘I recall that at the time I was not certain. It meant, you see, that the chain of hands was broken, and the person on his right, Miss Crush, was collaborating in a deception, which I was not prepared to accept. She is very well regarded among spiritualists. However, I have since reluctantly decided that my inference must have been correct, though I cannot imagine what caused her to betray the Movement in this way.’
‘What happened next, sir?’
‘Miss Crush claimed to have been touched by the hand. And so did Miss Probert. She said that it was tugging at her dress. That’s very odd, isn’t it? You see, she was sitting on the opposite side of the table from Brand, between her fiance and your inspector. Captain Nye objected strongly to what was going on and he was pelted with oranges for his trouble. I presume that Brand threw them. Shortly after that we put on the light.’
‘Did you immediately proceed to the experiment with the chair?’
‘I think we needed a few minutes to collect ourselves. I remember that I had to dissuade Probert from pouring Miss Crush a glass of gin. Nye, too, was still extremely exercised about what had happened. It was Brand who restored order eventually, by agreeing to let us sit for the second experiment in a subdued light. He was a very self-possessed young man, now that I think about him. He told Probert to show the apparatus to the rest of us. Of course, he had seen it for himself at the beginning of the evening, before everyone arrived.’
‘He’d also seen it the previous evening,’ Cribb reminded Strathmore.
‘So he had. Well, while the rest of us were looking at the chair, Brand busied himself, tidying up the oranges and flowers-a vase of chrysanthemums had been knocked over by an orange. We soon had the apparatus ready, and several of the party took turns to sit in the chair. At that stage it was working perfectly. Brand was searched and seated in the chair. We retired behind the curtain and the seance commenced. I was taking the galvanometer readings with Inspector Jowett. I remember that Miss Crush was the first to announce that she felt a supernatural presence in the room and shortly afterwards Miss Probert claimed that her hair was being stroked.’
‘You all remained seated, however?’ asked Cribb.
‘Every one of us. You may imagine the effect upon the company of what happened next. We all heard quite distinctly the sound of footsteps from behind the curtain while the galvanometer was steady at a reading of 188!’
‘What did you do, sir?’
‘First there were shouts from behind the curtain, punctuated, I may say, by some strong language which we doubted at first could have been spoken by Brand. Dr Probert asked me to look behind the curtain.’
‘And what did you see?’
‘Nothing. The study was in darkness, without even the light from the fire that we had next door. Brand asked me to fetch Probert, and, as the doctor went into the study, he kicked over the bowl of salt solution we had used to strengthen the contact with the medium’s hands. I went back to light a candle and we all went in to see what had happened. Captain Nye was sent downstairs to turn off the current.’
‘I believe that Mr Brand was in quite an agitated state.’
‘My word, yes. He was convinced that one of us had ventured behind the curtain, which would have been unforgivable. The Society does not conduct itself like that, as I told you. I think it was Miss Crush who finally regained Brand’s co-operation by persuading him that we may actually have had a spirit visitor with us. We later learned, of course, that it had been Professor Quayle stumbling by error into the wrong room.’
‘I think he was trying to evade me at the time, sir.’
Strathmore nodded. ‘I think each one of us must admit to a measure of blame for the things that happened that evening, Sergeant. Where was I? Ah yes, by the time Captain Nye came up from the cellar we were ready to resume the experiment, so the poor fellow was sent straight down again to switch the electricity on while we resumed our seats in the library.’
‘Do you happen to remember who was the last person to leave the study?’ asked Cribb,
‘It must have been Probert. I remember him drawing the curtain.’
‘And you returned to the galvanometer?’
‘I did. It was twenty minutes to eleven and we had a reading of 202. The next thing I recall is the door-handle turning and you arriving in the room. It gave us quite a shock, Sergeant, I can tell you.’
‘But not so big a shock as Mr Brand was getting, eh?’ said Cribb a little coarsely. ‘Well, sir, you’ve been very helpful. I think you’ve covered all the matters I was wanting to ask about.’
‘Possibly it helps that we are both investigators in our different ways, Sergeant,’ said Strathmore, standing up. ‘Without seeming to boast, I think I know what you peelers require from a witness. Might I inquire whether you have come to a conclusion yet about Brand’s death?’
‘I think I’m closer to it now than I was, sir. Have you formed any opinion about it yourself, by any chance?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Strathmore. ‘I am quite certain how it happened, but I should not wish to prejudice your investigation. When you have made up your mind, you must let me know, and I shall tell you whether we have both arrived at the same conclusion.’
CHAPTER 12
They’ve had their wish — called for the naked truth,
And in she tripped, sat
down and bade them stare;
They had to blush a little and forgive!
Pursuing Miss Probert had a beneficial effect on Thackeray. Trailing a suspect was a duty he had performed more times than he cared to remember, but suspects with trim figures and elegant deportment were rare. Trailing was not quite the word to describe his sprightly step along Hill Street. He moved like a man twenty years his junior.
The difficulty was in convincing himself that she was a suspect at all. A young woman who devoted so much of her time to distributing food to the impoverished was not his notion of a murderess, however incriminating Cribb might regard the presence of a brush and comb in her basket. A dagger or a tin of weed-killer Thackeray was ready to be impressed by, but a brush and comb? He grinned to himself as he threaded his way through the shoppers of Richmond.
By crossing the street he gave himself a longer view of the pavement Alice Probert travelled along. An additional advantage of this parallel route was that she was unlikely to suspect his presence. People always supposed that if anyone chose to follow them they would automatically use the same side of the street.
He spotted her at once, waiting to cross at the junction with Red Lion Street. A young constable on traffic duty waved two four-wheelers past before halting a cart to allow her to cross. She nodded her thanks and stepped forward. She would be easy to keep in sight, with that bar of white on the trimming of her hat. She was not paying the smallest attention to Thackeray’s side of the street, but he went through the motions of making sure there were other pedestrians between himself and his quarry and occasionally altering his stride to take advantage of the cover of a passing vehicle.
Across Red Lion Street she stopped to exchange words with an older woman in a grey coat who had obviously been shopping, for an elderly manservant weighed down with parcels had stopped at the same time and stood patiently some yards behind her. It occurred to Thackeray that Alice must be well known in Richmond, at least among the well-to-do. Whatever felonies she intended with her brush and comb she was going to find it difficult to avoid being recognised. He stopped beside a tobacconist’s and waited, like the man with the parcels, for the end of the conversation.
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