She laughed softly. “Evil. You think evil is so clearly defined? That one can always and absolutely tell the difference between right and wrong, good and evil?”
Holmes opened his mouth, clearly intending to say yes, then seemed to falter. His eyes shifted to mine. I knew he was thinking of Violet Wheelwright. “Not always,” he said.
“Not even Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective extraordinaire?”
He shook his head. “Not even he—not always. But often it is very clear.”
She laughed. “Remind me not to make an enemy of you, Mr. Holmes. Still, I think you are both being hard on women. My sex certainly does not have a monopoly on stupidity. If you had traveled in my circles in Europe and attended as many dinner parties as I have… Sometimes I would look around the room and wonder if there was a single man who had more than an ounce of brains—besides Cyril, that is. That is why I so enjoy your company, Mr. Holmes. And yours, too, Dr. Vernier. You both actually know something about biology and science. An intelligent conversation is possible—and it is a delight.”
Holmes nodded. “It is indeed. And certainly we can agree with your last observation—stupidity is also widespread among men.”
“Especially when it comes to women,” I murmured spontaneously.
Arabella laughed. “You are wicked, Dr. Vernier!”
* * *
Holmes left shortly after breakfast, and oddly enough, Arabella came down at ten. I could not understand this until Mrs. Troughton announced that Edgar Caswall was at the door. We were all in the library. Arabella rose. “Diana, dear,” she said. “You must come down. I am certain he will want to see you, too.”
“In a moment,” Diana said.
“Well, don’t be too long.”
As soon as Arabella was gone, Diana stood up and set her white hands on the dark wood of the table. “Oh, Dr. Vernier—will you please come down with me?”
“I can’t say I am very eager to see Edgar Caswall either.” However, one look at her face had showed me this was more than annoyance. Her face was very pale, her green eyes fearful. “But I shall come.”
“Oh good. I don’t like him—and he can be so strange.”
“He is rather mad, I’m afraid.”
Diana shook her head. “Aunt Arabella says he is only half mad, and that all the interesting people are half mad.”
“More than half by far, in his case.”
“He looks at me so strangely. I don’t like it. I will feel better if you are nearby. Only Aunt Arabella says we must humor him.”
I shrugged. “Very well.” It had also occurred to me that it was probably not a coincidence this visit was happening while Holmes was away.
Miss Marsh and I slowly went down the broad stairway that led to the great hall. Caswall had just come striding into the hall. He again wore a black velvet cloak, glistening with moisture from being out of doors, and the hood was thrown back to reveal his dramatic features, the black curly hair, the black mono-eyebrow, the aquiline nose and those mad black eyes. They caught fire at the sight of Diana, taking in her face and shape in a frankly lewd way. He and Arabella were both inches shorter than Diana, who was tall, five foot eight or more.
“Edgar, I think you have met—” Arabella began.
“Watson and I know each other, don’t we, John?” Caswall said.
“Oh yes.”
“He will be joining me soon to work on my biography.”
Arabella’s brow furrowed above the green octagonal lenses. “I see.”
Caswall’s hands rose to unfasten the cords of his cloak—he had thick black hair below the knuckles—then he removed it with a flourish, whirling it about slightly. He wore a black velvet frock coat of a style I had not seen before, black trousers and long black cavalry-style boots. He threw the cloak at a nearby chair, then turned and walked resolutely toward the distant fireplace. Mrs. Troughton’s mouth was straight and fixed, her face rigidly expressionless. She took the cloak and walked away. The two women and I walked toward the fireplace, Diana lingering behind me.
The tall bank of windows along the outer wall let in the gray light, which illuminated the limestone slabs of the floor and the faded carpet. The stone casements were arched on top, each window made up of many panes of blurry, ancient glass. The rain had ended during the night, replaced by white mists. I was already tired of the cold fog and wanted the sunshine to return. Caswall reached the fireplace, turned and folded his arms dramatically, then stared at Diana.
“How are you, Edgar?” Arabella asked.
He did not even seem to hear her. Diana turned toward me, seeking reassurance. “How is your kite, Mr. Caswall?” I asked.
“The rains were so bad yesterday we had to haul it down. I am hopeful that it will fly again this afternoon when I return.” He had not taken his eyes off Diana. A furrow had appeared above his nose on either side.
“And so you think the sun will return?”
“I do.” His gaze was fixed on Diana in a most inappropriate way.
I tried to stand in front of her, but he moved forward at this, which caused her to walk around me and come nearer. She was obviously trying to hide behind me, and he was determined not to allow this.
“Mr. Caswall, what are you doing?” I asked.
“It needn’t concern you.”
“But if I am to be your biographer…”
His eyes shifted briefly to mine. “Are you familiar with Mesmer and mesmerism, John?”
“Only vaguely.”
“Mesmer was the genius who discovered animal magnetism. Some men—an elect few—possess powers of mind and will which allow them to control others at a distance. This is a rare and terrible gift.”
I nodded. More insanity. “And you think you possess such powers?”
“I know I do. My will is very strong. It cannot be resisted.” His eyes were fixed on Diana again. His face was slightly flushed, his thick upper lip curving in something between a sneer and a smile. “Especially by the weaker sex.”
Arabella had a fixed smile on her lips, and she stood behind him just to his side. “Perhaps we might go to the sitting room, Edgar. It is much more comfortable there.”
“No.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Diana said.
This made Caswall’s face strain even more, and his right hand with fingers open made an arc through the air. “Mesmer had to lay his hands upon people, and he often used actual magnets. His disciple Lombarghi dispensed with these techniques. They are superfluous for the superior mind. My grandfather studied with Lombarghi in Paris in the 1820s. He left a trunk filled with his journals and certain instruments of power. I recently discovered this trunk and have been poring over its contents. I am very near complete mastery of Mesmer’s secrets.”
I nodded. I didn’t know whether it was better to try to keep him talking or not. “And I suppose this power gives you complete control over another?”
“It does. When applied with maximum force it is irresistible, especially for the female sex.”
“So the goal is submission?”
“Exactly, John.” Through what seemed to be a herculean effort, he raised one eyebrow.
I heard a hiss of breath behind me. I turned. Diana had clapped her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were rather wild, then she made an odd coughing sound which was clearly a suppressed laugh.
Caswall made another swipe at the air with his right hand. This caused a flutter of nervous laughter from Diana. “Oh, don’t!”
Caswall motioned behind himself with his left hand, waving it at Lady Verr. “Assist me, Arabella—join me.”
“Edgar…” She stepped closer to him.
Diana put both her hands over her mouth. “Oh, stop it—just stop it.” She laughed in earnest, but with a hysterical edge.
“That’s quite enough, Mr. Caswall,” I said, “quite enough!”
Caswall contorted his face in a manner which made even me want to laugh, and it produced a shriek of laughter from Diana.
“You cannot resist me—you cannot!”
Diana laughed in earnest. “Oh—that face.”
“Obey—obey!” Caswall shouted, which brought on another paroxysm of laughter.
I took Diana by the arm. “I think you need a brandy.”
She looked at me. “Do you?” This seemed to trigger another laughing fit.
“Come on.” I led her toward the sideboard.
Caswall realized he had failed. He whirled and raised his arm with outstretched fingers toward Arabella. “You—you have betrayed me!”
Arabella folded her arms and shook her head wearily. “Don’t be ridiculous, Edgar.”
“Ridiculous? I? I cannot be ridiculous. You promised me you would help. I am the lord of the sky, you the goddess of the earth and fecundity. You claimed your powers were as great as mine, and so they must be! How else could I have failed? You have turned against me! You made her laugh at me!”
“I did not!”
“You did!”
“Edgar, you are behaving stupidly.”
“Foul harlot!” He burst into a string of obscenities and expressions directed at Lady Verr, which, luckily, I was sure Diana would not fully understand.
Arabella, however, clearly did. “Edgar, I think perhaps you should leave.”
“So I shall, treacherous traitor! You have betrayed me, and you shall pay the price. A Caswall never forgets. You—you foul worm! I will destroy you, filthy slut, even as your ancestor destroyed the White Worm, only this time your lair itself shall be no more!”
“Oh Lord, Edgar—be reasonable for once. Just stop this nonsense. You know that I care for you, dearest.”
This brought on a renewed stream of obscenities. Arabella shook her head. “I shall get your cloak. We shall talk again when you have come to your senses.” She started for the door, and Caswall followed her still screaming curses and threats.
Diana stopped laughing, moaned, then gasped and started over again. I poured a brandy from the decanter on the sideboard. “Drink this all at once.” She did so, and it made her gasp. “Turn sideways.” She did, and I slapped her hard on the back, between the shoulder blades. “It will be all right now. He’s gone, I think.” She swallowed once, then took a long, deep breath. I poured more brandy. “Now sip it very slowly. It’s all right to laugh if you want.” She moaned, then giggled.
I poured myself a brandy and tossed it down. “Lord, he is totally batty.”
Diana sipped the brandy and gradually calmed down, although an occasional snicker slipped out.
Soon Arabella came striding across the hall. Her tight white dress showed off her spectacular emerald necklace and her sinuously shapely figure. The green spectacles hid her eyes, but her mouth and jaw were tense. I poured another brandy and handed it to her. She downed it in a great gulp, then slammed the glass onto the sideboard. She glared at Diana. “You might have humored him!”
This made her niece laugh once, then moan.
“Don’t laugh—” Lady Verr began.
“Humor him?” I exclaimed. “He is completely mad! What was she supposed to do? Faint? Tear off her dress? Go bug-eyed? What?”
“You needn’t take that tone of voice, Dr. Vernier.”
“Forgive me, but raving lunatics tend to unsettle me.”
She drew in her breath, then eased it out slowly. “They tend to unsettle us all.”
“Would you really consider marrying him?”
Now she turned her glare on me. “Don’t you dare judge me, Dr. Vernier.” She walked away toward the fire.
I glanced at Diana. “Do you feel better?”
“Yes. Thank God you are here.”
“Miss Marsh…?” I realized her aunt would hear my question. I shook my head. “Later.” I started slowly toward Arabella.
“Perhaps… perhaps if I give him a few days,” she said. “All may not be lost. One must hope…” Another weary sigh, then she turned. “Forgive me, Dr. Vernier. I was also upset.”
“With good reason.”
“We shall not speak of this further.” Her voice had an imperious tone. “He did behave badly. I am going to feed the reptiles.” She bowed slightly and then started across the hall toward the stairs.
The light coming through the windows had brightened and changed color; the mists were clearing. I turned to Diana. “Let’s go for a walk.”
She nodded fiercely. “Yes. Let’s.”
“I’ll meet you at the front door in five minutes.”
Blue sky showed overhead now, and the cool air had a fresh, clean smell impossible in London. We went down the steps and walked onto the path. A big rock stood in sunshine, and as I half expected, an adder lay beside it, sunning itself, its zigzag-patterned scales glistening. It seemed at one with the setting, a part of nature, and since I had expected its presence, I did not feel the sudden panicky stab of surprise. Certainly the snake was far less disturbing than Edgar Caswall.
We walked at a brisk clip down the road for a long while, and neither of us said a word. At last we paused to catch our breath. “Feel better?” I asked.
She nodded. She stared at me, and in the swath of sunlight I saw her pupils had shrunk, showing flecked green irises. She had on a blue wool hat with a big floppy brim to protect her from the sun. Her lips pulled into a smile, the dimple appearing on one side briefly, but her expression was pained. “I still don’t know whether I want to laugh or cry.”
“Neither—he’s not worth it.”
We began to walk more slowly. I heard a chattering noise and saw one of the red squirrels with the tufted ears in a tree. “Diana, I shall be frank with you. Have you ever thought of asking your aunt to simply pack up and leave?”
Her shoulders rose briefly. “I have thought of it. But I could not do it.”
“Why not?”
“Where would she go? She has no money, nothing. She is my aunt, after all, my only living relative. I cannot turn her away.”
I said nothing for a while. “Did she ever actually ask you if she could move into your home?”
Diana was quiet for a few seconds. “I don’t exactly remember.”
“I think that means no.”
“I suspect you are right. She talked about all the advantages for us both, how ideal it would be.”
“And has it worked out as you hoped?”
She didn’t answer for a long time. “No,” she said. I turned to look at her. Tears were running down her cheeks.
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It is—it is so awful. My mother should be here—and my father—not her—not her.”
“Don’t cry—I’m sorry. Do you have a handkerchief?”
She nodded, then pulled it out of her pocket. “I want—I want Adam—I want him—I want him so badly. Is that wrong?”
“No, of course it isn’t.” I set my hand on her shoulder, and she turned and almost crashed into me. If I were a smaller man she would have knocked me over. She hid her face in my shoulder, sobbing. She was almost Michelle’s height, but while Michelle was muscular and sturdy, she was slender and bony. I patted her back awkwardly. “You mustn’t give up. I know it is hard. I have to go to Micklethorpe, but you can see Adam. He’ll be at Lesser Hill.”
“But his father hates me!”
“His parents left yesterday. He will be alone. You can talk to him, perhaps stay while I go on to Micklethorpe. It’s going to be a beautiful day. You can walk down to the beach together.”
She nodded without speaking, then slowly drew back and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. She drew in a breath, then eased it out slowly as she squared her shoulders. “Another ‘thank you’ hardly seems enough after all you have done for me in the last few days.”
“I am only glad I was here to help.”
“So am I.” A faint involuntary shudder made her clench her teeth for an instant. “So am I.”
Eight
Adam Selton was at Lesser Hill, and he was as glad to see Diana as she was to see him. I ma
naged to get a moment alone with him and told him briefly what had happened with Caswall. His face darkened, and he said a single vulgar word. “Be kind to her,” I whispered. Soon I set out for Micklethorpe.
I went directly to the telegraph window and composed a short note begging Michelle to come as soon as possible. This is a dark business, I wrote, and explained how Diana needed a woman’s help. I also mentioned that no bodies had yet appeared, but hinted that could change, as a man had gone missing.
Afterwards, I went to the White Swan for a late lunch. The ruddy stout publican seemed to remember me from our last visit when Holmes had asked so many questions. He held the stem of his clay pipe between his teeth, his eyes wary. He filled a glass with beer, and a few minutes later a plate was set on the table before me: a slice of ham, two large wedges of different cheese, and some rustic bread.
I sipped the beer, then put the ham on the bread and had a bite. Certainly Michelle would heed my appeal. It was Monday afternoon. She could be here tomorrow. The last week without her had dragged along, and now things seemed to be spiraling downward. Holmes had been exuberant when he had come out of the pit yesterday. He must have some suspicions about what was going on, but as usual, it all seemed a hopeless muddle to me.
“Mind if I join yuh, squire?” said some gruff voice.
I looked up and saw Holmes’s thin face with the hawk nose and piercing eyes. I gave a soft laugh. “I certainly didn’t recognize your voice.”
“That was my intention.”
“Where is Hamswell?”
“On his way back to Diana’s Grove. The weather had turned so pleasant I thought I would stop here for lunch, then walk back on my own. I had hoped to develop some friendly rapport with Mr. Hamswell during our journey, but he did his utmost to reveal as little as possible about himself, Lady Verr or his former master. Oh, he did answer a few direct questions, but I learned nothing new. He had his guard up the entire time. He has been with Lady Verr a dozen years, about the same length of time as her maid Angela.”
“We had a bizarre morning.”
“Indeed?”
A barmaid brought Holmes a plate of food and a glass of beer, and I told him all about Caswall’s disastrous visit and Diana’s reaction. Afterwards, he was silent for a few seconds, then took a drink and set his glass on the table. “It is a very good thing you remained behind, Henry. I do not like to imagine exactly what might have happened had you not been there. However, I suspect Lady Verr will not abandon her pursuit of Caswall.”
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