Rested and refreshed, Mina returned home to find that a telegram had arrived for her mother, advising her of Edward’s arrival that evening in time for dinner. Mrs Scarletti, having conveniently forgotten all about Mina’s errand, was complaining bitterly about her absence. It was impossible to convince her that she herself had requested it.
As Mina expected, Rose and cook had all the arrangements in hand. Her mother, professing herself to be utterly exhausted due to having done all the work while Mina was out, decided to take a nap, and Mina was therefore able to spend some time at her writing desk. There, supported by the little wedge-shaped cushion which allowed her tilted body to sit upright, she penned her stories, which were published by the Scarletti Library of Romance under the nom de plume Robert Neil.
Her family took almost no interest in her writing, which they assumed to be gently moral tales for children. Even Edward was unaware of the real nature of her output since it was his partner Mr Greville who was in charge of storybooks, and only he knew that she wrote bloodcurdling tales of ghosts and demons. Of all her friends, only Dr Hamid had any inkling. His late sister Eliza, an invalid whose scoliosis had been more advanced than Mina’s, had been a devotee of the stories. Mina had befriended Eliza in what had proved to be the final months of her life. Her good humour and resilience in the face of her overwhelming affliction was and remained a powerful guide to all who had known her.
It was inevitable that Mina took inspiration for her works of fiction from her own experiences, and the recent events at Hollow House had been a veritable treasure trove leading to a series of tales of mysterious hauntings. She wondered if Mr Hope read her work. She doubted it, and even if he did would he recognise himself as the appalling Mr Hogg, the predatory voluptuary who suffered such a horrible fate? Would Mr Beckler see in the repellent Mr Bickley, whom she had consigned to a ghastly death, a mirror image of himself?
She had begun a new tale, concerning a supposed adventurer who achieved great acclaim from visiting faraway places, but was proved to be a great fraud since the portraits he produced in evidence were all photographs of him standing in front of paintings. He would suffer the consequences of his duplicity when the paintings came to life and swallowed him. She was debating whether he should be strangled by a snake, eaten by a crocodile, or plunge into the seething maw of a volcano, when Richard unexpectedly arrived home early and came to see her.
‘The house is very quiet,’ he said.
‘Mother is resting, Mrs Wheedon has taken the children out for fresh air, and Enid and Mr Inskip are out walking. Let us enjoy the peace while we can.’
Richard stretched out on the bed with a groan of relief, and Mina put her pen down and turned to him. ‘Why so early? Have you been dismissed?’
He tried to look offended by the suggestion. ‘No, the shop had to be closed because Beckler and Mrs McClelland and the maid had to manage Miss Hartop. There would have been less trouble with an escaped elephant. I was sent off to fetch her father. He didn’t look surprised. On the way back he told me what a wonderfully misunderstood girl she is and told me the size of her dowry. In fact, he repeated the figure in case I had not heard it properly the first time. Anyhow, I was pretty grateful when Beckler said I could go home. He was very pleased to see you, by the way.’
Mina ignored the last comment. ‘Did Miss Hartop recover from her fright? Or whatever it was that happened?’
‘Oh, it is far, far worse than that, my dear. You recall I told you that Mr Hope is on his way back from Africa?’
Mina’s heart sank. ‘Yes. Has he arrived?’
‘Not yet, but he is sure to be regaled with all Beckler’s marvellous successes. The new spirit photograph will undoubtedly please him, and now there is Miss Hartop, who once she had calmed down, got all excited again as she has convinced herself that she is a medium. She even thinks that her sighting of Mr Simpson’s ghost, which had been rather bashful until now, shows that it is she who is the secret behind both the photograph and his appearance.’
‘I don’t believe Mr Beckler cares for her very much.’
‘And who can blame him? But he must take his success where he finds it. He has more patience with her than I do. She is always babbling on about the society people she mixes with, and I think most of that is true, because her father has so many friends, so Beckler endures it. He is even able to pretend that he finds such conversation interesting.’
‘He is a businessman, so he must hope to gain more customers through her connections.’
‘I expect so. At any rate, the plan now is that Miss Hartop will develop herself as a medium.’
Even from Miss Hartop this was astonishing. ‘Really?’ exclaimed Mina. ‘Does her father approve? When single ladies take up that profession, they are so often stated to be respectable that the public must see the matter as being in some doubt.’
‘He didn’t object. After all, it may attract a husband. Some men like a woman with a bit of mystery or notoriety about her. Mr Hartop is a very patient man, but even his patience is stretched to the limit. The plan, which was under discussion when I left, was to place a partition in the ground floor storeroom so a portion of it could be converted into a medium’s booth where Miss Hartop will practise her art, with her maid Tilly in attendance. Will you consult her?’
‘I shall not. My famous powers of prediction have already revealed what I would learn from it. She can tell me nothing that all the town does not already know or suppose.’ Mina gave this strange development further thought. ‘What form of mediumship will she practise? She clearly has no experience.’
‘That is to be determined. When Mr Hope arrives, he will certainly want to study her.’
‘In any other individual, that would excite my sympathy.’
Richard sat up, resting his chin in his hands and gazing up at his sister. ‘Mina, my dear…’ he began cautiously.
Mina knew that tone of voice and that look. Her brother wanted a favour from her. ‘No, Richard,’ she said sternly, ‘I am not lending you anything. You have wages, and you should learn to use your money wisely.’
He blinked with surprise. ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
‘Neither will I pass notes to Nellie for you. I know how fond you are of her, but she is a respectable married woman now, and you know what Mr Jordan is like. If he was to find them, she would be ruined.’
‘I can’t send her notes at all now she has a new maid,’ he said disconsolately.
‘She does? I am sorry to hear that. Zillah was so sensible and reliable. But perhaps she is getting married?’
‘No, I had a letter from Zillah that tells all. She has been sent to Hollow House to look after Mrs Honeyacre, whose baby is due to arrive in about three months. She might stay on for the lying in as well. So I am bereft of my trusted accomplice. And according to Zillah, the new woman is a dragon. Miss Fletcher. Mr Jordan chose her specially. She has eyes that can see through walls. If I came near to Nellie, Miss Fletcher would stare holes in me.’
‘And now that you are living here, it is impossible for Nellie to visit and take tea with me without it arousing suspicion. Well, I shall send her a note. Something Mr Jordan can safely open and read himself if he wishes. We can meet at one of her favourite teashops with her dragon in attendance and she can tell me all the news.’
‘Mina.’
‘Yes, Richard?’
‘I know you don’t like Mr Beckler, although I am sure it was all a misunderstanding.’
‘It was no misunderstanding, and I will not discuss it.’
‘No, well, the thing is, with Mr Hope coming back, he told me that he was concerned that Hope is intent on finding ways of discrediting you. He wanted me to warn you about it.’
‘Very well,’ said Mina curtly, ‘consider me warned.’
‘Hope is a very powerful man. He has lots of friends and no end of money. Even after the scandal last year there are people in Brighton who will hear no ill of him, no matter what he does. He can say all s
orts of nonsense and people will believe him. Ladies especially — they often comment on his picture in the shop window. Some of their compliments are very — well — extravagant. Why do some ladies like bad men? I don’t understand. Is it because he is so tall? Or is it something to do with his hair?’
‘I really don’t know.’
‘But I was thinking. Perhaps when he comes back, it would be safer for you if you could pretend to believe in his views.’
‘My intention,’ said Mina firmly, ‘is to avoid him. Both he and his accomplice, if at all possible. I wouldn’t have entered the shop today if Miss Hartop hadn’t pulled me inside. And I will not subscribe to his views either privately or in public.’
‘But you do believe in the hereafter? Please tell me you do,’ Richard added plaintively.
Mina could see that he was unhappy and left her desk to sit beside him, linking her arm in his. ‘I don’t deny the existence of the spirit world, even though I have seen no evidence of it and may never do so until I am of that world myself. The question I doubt is whether the living can see it or hear it or converse with it. But I am not inflexible. If I should find a medium who is genuine, I will gladly become a believer, but so far none of the people I have encountered who have claimed to be in touch with spirits have convinced me. I have no quarrel with those who offer comfort or an evening’s entertainment for a shilling or so. But I will not abide heartless, designing individuals who make targets of the bereaved and use conjuring tricks to cheat them out of their fortunes. The proper place for them is prison.’
‘Perhaps Miss Hartop is genuine.’
‘Is that what you think? Well, one cannot judge the contents by the vessel. We shall see.’ Mina heard a carriage approach the house and went to peer out of the window in case it was Edward arriving, but it passed by. She sat down beside Richard again, relishing the moment of peace. ‘Richard, you recall our conversation about the sketches you were making of the monuments in the Extra Mural Cemetery?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you have done this?’
‘Yes. They weren’t the sort of things I like to draw, but the cemetery is a good place for a quiet smoke.’
‘Have they been photographed?’
‘Not yet. Beckler wants a time when the light is good, but not during shop hours or when there are too many people about. We may go out early on Sunday.’
‘Do you recall which monuments they were? Did Mr Beckler suggest why he had chosen those particular ones?’
‘No, he just gave me a list of names.’
‘Do you still have the list?’ asked Mina, hopefully.
Richard delved through his pockets and came up with a crumpled sheet of paper.
Mina took it to her desk, smoothed it out and studied it. ‘And were all these monuments attractive and important ones?’
‘No, not all. Some were the usual type of thing. Two were just headstones. Some had statues and one was a large family vault.’
‘I don’t suppose you still have the drawings?’
‘No, Beckler has them.’ Richard looked puzzled. ‘Why are you so interested? Do you want me to ask him about them?’
‘No!’ said Mina so sharply it came out as a snap, and Richard jumped.
‘I don’t understand why —’
‘I don’t want to give him any excuse to come near me again. Can you respect that?’
He shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
She returned to the list. There were eight names in all, three of which Mina recognised, although she had never met any of the individuals concerned, since they had all passed away before the Scarletti family came to live in Brighton.
Aloysius Phipps had been the senior partner of the prominent Brighton solicitors, which, following the departure of the humiliated Mr Laidlaw and his wayward wife, was known simply as Phipps and Co. Mina had often used the firm and had seen an oil painting of its founder which was proudly on display at the premises.
Mrs Eleanor Honeyacre was the first wife of the owner of the Sussex mansion Hollow House. Mina had visited him and his second wife Kitty, after they had complained of an outbreak of ghostly occurrences. A portrait of the first Mrs Honeyacre, a gentlewoman with curly grey hair and a mild expression, was hung in a prominent place where the new Mrs Honeyacre tolerated it with perfect grace.
Charles Peasgood was the late husband of a friend of Mina’s mother. A surgeon with a substantial practice, and highly regarded in Brighton, he had left his widow comfortably provided for, with an elegant home in Kemptown.
All these individuals belonged to families of the class that Mr Beckler would very much wish to attract to his shop, although Mina thought they would have been more likely to have patronised the fashionable Mr Mayall. Apart from this there was nothing she could see that they had in common.
The other names she did not recognise: Bertram Veale, Hector Samprey, Edith Porterson-White, Frederick Soules, and Robert Mulgrew.
Letters and numbers had been written beside each name, and Mina didn’t have to ask what these signified; they were clearly the locations of the burial plots provided by the cemetery office.
There was a noise downstairs. With some prompting from Mina, Richard stirred himself to go and investigate and came back to report that it was the return of the Inskips together with Mrs Wheedon and her charges. There was a certain amount of bustle and conversation before the Inskips went to ready themselves for dinner and the children were taken up to their nursery. Not long afterwards a cab drew up bringing Edward, Miss Hooper and her aunt.
Mina put all her notes aside. From now on, private time would be at a premium.
CHAPTER SIX
Edward Scarletti was thirty, but he had already acquired that quintessential feature of a dedicated middle-aged businessman: two deep parallel lines of worry carved into the bridge of his nose. Even when he was not actively frowning, he appeared to be. His dark hair and stocky build marked him out as his father’s son, but the lively imagination and creative joy he might have inherited from that parent either had not found a home in him or been put aside as frivolous. He could not tolerate idleness in himself and abhorred it in others. Every aspect of his life, his business, his obligations as an eldest son, his pursuit of marital happiness was approached with a strong sense of duty and tireless dedication.
Edward’s beloved, Miss Hooper, was a demure nineteen. Her grandfather had made a fortune in timber and her recently deceased father, who had never remarried following the early death of his wife, had owned a paper mill. Miss Hooper enjoyed a generous allowance and was due to receive a substantial portion on marriage. Her guardian and mentor, a great aunt, Mrs Gostelow, lived in a charming rural cottage on the banks of the Thames where there was fresh air and a well-tended garden. It was here, rather than her late father’s sombre London home, where Miss Hooper spent her happiest times.
The young heiress had received every advantage life could offer. She’d had a sound general education at a genteel school for girls where care was taken not to overheat the fragile female constitution and risk the pupils’ prospects of motherhood with too much intensive learning. She did, however, take the valuable extra classes in deportment, music and drawing. Although the demands of fashion had long passed Mrs Gostelow by, she understood that a young girl in hopes of a good marriage should be shown at her best when the time came to enter society, and helped her cultivate a refined taste in dress, and care for her complexion. Miss Hooper’s great love, however, was her great-aunt’s garden, where she grew a variety of herbs and flowers.
Mina had met Miss Hooper only once before. To hear Edward speak of his affianced lady, she was the very epitome of beauty and grace. She was in fact a tolerably pretty girl with good manners, who knew how to make the most of her appearance. So quiet was she, so daintily reserved, that it was impossible to make any judgement of her true character. Edward was dazzled in admiration, Richard had detected a will of steel beneath the lace, and Mina was curious to know her better.
It so chanced that Miss Hooper’s family was connected to that of Brighton’s renowned photographic artist, Mr J E Mayall, whose second wife was a distant cousin. Mayall’s London business, managed by his eldest son, Edwin, was in Regent Street, close by the offices of Scarletti publishing. Edward Scarletti had become acquainted with the Mayalls when he had initiated a meeting to discuss whether it was possible to publish photographs easily and cheaply in newsprint. To his disappointment he had been advised that this was an innovation whose time was yet to come; however, the two serious young businessmen had discovered strong mutual interests. More social meetings had followed, at one of which Edward had met his future bride.
Miss Hooper, it transpired, had never before visited Brighton, and had long been eager to do so. Mina gathered that this was most probably why Edward had been persuaded to celebrate the betrothal there rather than in London. Mina’s mother pounced on this fact at once to outline her plan whereby Edward would move to Brighton as soon as the happy couple were returned from honeymoon. She had obviously given the question a great deal of thought, since she already knew of several houses to recommend, all of them as it so chanced very close to Montpelier Road and of an ideal size to accommodate a large family. She did not actually say so, but the implication was that she anticipated that the new wife would soon have important things to occupy her energies which would leave her no free time for such frivolities as pressed flowers.
The great-aunt, Mrs Gostelow, was a lady of some seventy years, clad in the pearl grey of a long-time widow. In company, she uttered only politenesses. She soon appreciated that no one had any interest in her observations regarding the journey to Brighton, the comfort at the hotel, or the state of the weather, and remained content to watch over her charge, and take stock of the Scarlettis with a shrewd eye.
The Cyanide Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 6) Page 6
