After dinner Louisa demanded Mina’s company in the drawing room. Here, the widow spoke in lengthy monologue concerning her late husband, speaking of him with great affection, saying that she could never as long as she lived love another, a theme she repeated rather too often for Mina’s comfort. It was late before Mina was able to return to her desk, where she found the card given to her by the doctor’s wife, Mrs McClelland, and penned a note inviting her to tea.
‘It appears,’ said Mrs McClelland, as she prepared to sip her tea, gazing knowingly at Mina over the rim of her cup, ‘that we have some secrets to share.’
‘Ah, yes, so we do,’ said Mina.
They exchanged conspiratorial smiles.
‘It does not take an especially observant person to see that you are not on good terms with Mr Beckler,’ added Mrs McClelland. ‘Your manner towards him suggested to me that there has been some friction between you in the past — an insult, or a quarrel, perhaps —’ she gave a tilt of the eyebrow — ‘even a broken engagement?’
Mina felt her face grow warm, and she put her teacup down hastily in case the slight tremor of her hand resulted in a spill. Her guest noticed the gesture but made no comment. ‘Oh no, nothing of that kind,’ said Mina, hastily. ‘He did at an earlier meeting pay some attention to me, but I soon discovered that his motives were not honourable. He knows where he stands with me now and is all politeness, but I have no wish to have any but the most distant dealings with him. I have not told any member of my family about this, as my brother is employed by him and I do not want to harm his prospects.’
Mrs McClelland nodded understandingly. ‘Then that will be our secret,’ she said.
Mina was grateful that her guest was too polite to pry any further. She had probably assumed that Mr Beckler had courted Mina solely for financial reasons and if so, Mina was not going to correct her.
Relieved, Mina refreshed herself with more tea and offered the plate of pastries which she had ordered from the bakery. Mrs McClelland had already eaten one and had no hesitation in helping herself to another.
‘My brother told me last night about the sudden illness of Miss Hartop,’ said Mina. ‘In fact, he was dispatched to her house to enquire after her when she did not appear at the shop, where she had an appointment, and he spoke to Mr Hartop. I do hope she is improving.’
‘Then you will know that my husband is the Hartops’ doctor and was called to the house,’ said Mrs McClelland. ‘He applied the necessary treatments. She was extremely ill, but he is now satisfied that she is out of danger.’
‘I am pleased to hear it. Richard also told me about a gift of Veale’s violet creams that was delivered by a messenger boy. Does your husband believe that they are responsible? Is there another Miss Edmunds in Brighton? Should we all be very afraid?’
Mrs McClelland paused mid-pastry to consider the question. ‘That is to be decided,’ she said at last. ‘One thing I do know: the chocolates looked very fresh, and they were in a new clean bag. They cannot have been purchased long ago.’ She paused. ‘I could tell you more, but it would be in strict confidence,’ she added.
‘Of course,’ said Mina, encouragingly.
Mrs McClelland finished the last of her pastry and dabbed her lips with a napkin. ‘My husband was told that Veale’s violet creams are a particular favourite of Miss Hartop’s. It appears that she had already consumed two of the chocolates without taking any harm, but yesterday she ate another one. She was talking and eating at the same time, which is a bad habit under the usual circumstances, but on this occasion, it may have inadvertently saved her. She had already bitten into the chocolate and it got stuck in her throat and made her choke. She began to complain that it was burning her. She managed to cough out a piece into a handkerchief and told her maid to throw it on the fire. The maid, being an intelligent girl, kept back the piece as she thought it suspicious. Miss Hartop therefore swallowed only a portion of the chocolate but soon developed alarming symptoms, which I will not describe. The maid gave her milk and water to drink, which was very sensible indeed, and sent for my husband. He was able to establish that all the family had eaten the same luncheon and suffered no ill effects and deduced that if anything she consumed had caused Miss Hartop’s illness, it was the chocolate.’
‘Does he believe it was poisoned? Or could it have been some fault in the manufacture?’
‘He has sent the piece saved by the maid and the remaining chocolates to a chemist to conduct tests. One or two of the others have markings on them which suggest that they have been tampered with. Given this fact and the nature of the symptoms, he is privately of the opinion that poison was added to some of the chocolates, although when and by whom it is at present impossible to know. Judging by the symptoms, he suspects arsenic. Had Miss Hartop eaten the whole one, she might very well have died. If the chemist’s report proves him right, it will of course be a police matter.’
More tea and pastries were consumed in a companionable but reflective silence.
Mina received her answer later that day when Richard returned home and told her that a policeman had been to the shop, questioning Mr Beckler and himself about the delivery of the chocolates and the identity of the clients for the mysterious Lady Brighthelm. ‘None of them left their names,’ he said, ‘although I know she recognised young Mr Clover and took quite a fancy to him. And there was Mr Winstanley as well, who I knew because he had come for his photograph not long before.’
‘What about the messenger boy?’ asked Mina. ‘Can he be found so he can describe who gave him the chocolates?’
‘Well, I didn’t see him. And the gentleman in the shop who did see him didn’t leave his name.’
‘The man who bought a photograph frame?’
‘He didn’t buy one. He asked to see one. I showed him a catalogue and it didn’t have what he wanted; a larger one than we had at the counter. So I fetched one from the storeroom, but it didn’t suit him.’ Richard sighed. ‘What a depressing business this is.’
‘Yes, poor Miss Hartop.’
‘I meant work. It’s terribly dull.’
‘Did the man leave without making any purchase?’
‘Yes.’
‘Would you know him if you saw him again?’
‘That’s what the police asked me,’ said Richard, mournfully. ‘No, I don’t remember anything particular about him. Why would I? There was nothing to make him stand out from another man. I suppose he might come in again if he changes his mind.’
‘And since there is no criminal charge, it will not be in the newspapers,’ said Mina, ‘although if he knew of the interest of the police he would surely come forward with his story. I know, why don’t you put a nice display of frames in the shop window? With a sign saying there is a bigger selection inside, and customers can order anything they don’t see. That might lure him in again.’
‘It might. You are full of ideas, Mina.’
‘Have there been many such deliveries of gifts to the shop?’
‘None, as far as I know. This is the first one I can remember. I know people bring along little gifts to Lady Brighthelm when they consult her, but they hand them to her, so I never see them.’
‘Have the police interviewed Veales?’
‘I don’t know. Did that horrid Miss Edmunds go to them?’
‘No, she went to Maynards. And the chocolates when bought were not at fault; she poisoned them herself. The one thing we should be careful of doing,’ she went on, ‘is suggesting to the public at large that there is a second Miss Edmunds about. You know how people like to panic. But this is undoubtedly an attempt to murder a very specific person, not a general madness as it was with Miss Edmunds, who after she failed to poison Mrs Beard didn’t seem to mind who she harmed. Which leaves me with the question, why did someone try to poison Miss Hartop? Did they know the medium was she? Was it Miss Hartop who was their quarry? Or did they just wish to silence Lady Brighthelm? Miss Hartop is a gossip who likes to collect rumours about society, and
she may have unwittingly acquired dangerous information which she is passing on. Or, as Lady Brighthelm she has made a guess in one of her readings and hit her mark more accurately than she knows. I suppose the police will interview her when she is well enough. Do we know how she is?’
‘Yes, I was sent there again today. Beckler asked me to deliver flowers and a card with our good wishes. I gave them to the maid, Tilly, who is still concerned but says her mistress is strong and will recover. But she is unable to speak at all at present, which as you can imagine, is very trying for her. It was her favourite pastime. She was asked if she had any idea who might have done this, and she just shook her head.’ He paused. ‘Oh, and there is one other piece of news you ought to have.’
Something in his tone and his glance told Mina she would not enjoy what she was about to hear.
‘Beckler received a telegram this morning. Mr Hope arrives in town tomorrow.’
The next day, true to Richard’s predictions, he informed Mina that Mr Hope had arrived in Brighton and paid a visit to the shop. The gentleman had admired the window display which featured several of his portraits and a substantial selection of his books, was given a tour of the premises, and inspected the progress made on the painting of the jungle backdrop. ‘He was especially pleased with the spirit photographs, which he declared ought to be advertised everywhere,’ Richard added.
‘Not if the Soules brothers have any part in the debate,’ said Mina.
‘Oh, he has seen the letter and he laughed at it,’ said Richard. ‘Told Beckler to take no notice. He has already written to the Gazette in reply. And he is writing to all the spiritualist magazines. I have to say, though, when he first arrived, he gave me the unfriendliest look. I have hardly had worse, except from Mr Jordan on account of the fact that he is jealous that Nellie likes me very much better than him.’
‘That is not an unreasonable reaction from a husband,’ said Mina. ‘Did Mr Hope say anything to you?’
‘No, he didn’t speak to me at all, but he took Beckler into the office for a private interview, and I think I was the subject. Anyhow, it seems that whatever Beckler said to him, he has smoothed it all over. When they came out, I heard Beckler telling Hope that you had been extremely impressed with the picture of Father and he was sure that you were convinced it was genuine.’
‘Did he now? Well, I am not sure I am convinced, but I certainly can’t explain it, and would very much like to.’
‘I really do believe it, Mina,’ said Richard, earnestly. ‘It is Father’s spirit in the picture, I know it is. How could it be anything else?’
‘It is certainly his image, I don’t deny it,’ said Mina.
‘Well, there you are! And he was very sorry to hear of Lady Brighthelm’s awful illness, especially as Beckler had told him what a promising medium she is, and a veritable magnet for the spirits. There have already been rumours of poison in town, probably due to the police enquiries, which of course we could say nothing about, and the gossips are talking about a second Miss Edmunds and trying to identify the guilty party. So he is going to pay Miss Hartop a visit tomorrow morning, which I am sure will cheer her up.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mina was surprised the next morning to receive a note from Mr Hartop entreating that she receive him for a private conversation of great importance. She lost no time in responding, stating that he might call on her that afternoon. Whatever he had to say, she felt sure it resulted from the recent visit of Mr Hope to Miss Hartop’s bed of sickness, and she hardly liked to imagine what it might be. She rather thought that it would not be a friendly conference. Mina asked Rose to serve tea in the parlour and bring whatever pastries in the house might prove most palatable, and then to remain in the room.
Rose, who had been present at several of Mina’s less friendly conversations and was clearly from her expression expecting another such confrontation, brought a laden tea tray with a generous pile of strawberry tartlets. It was a cheerful sight. Cook’s heavy hands made light pastry, and one could hardly go wrong with jam and fruit.
Mina had never met Mr Hartop, but Richard had spoken well of him. He was a small gentleman, not a great deal more than 5 feet in height, but with a well-proportioned and active figure. He was about sixty-five years of age, with grey hair thin on the crown and a short, neat beard. He greeted Mina and when she offered him a seat, took it with alacrity and regarded her with an interested stare. He declined the offer of a strawberry tart, and on being served a cup of tea, held it in his hands and stared down at it as if uncertain what to do with it next. Eventually, he placed it rather gingerly on a side table.
‘Miss Scarletti,’ he began, in a business-like manner, ‘it is very good of you to receive me at such short notice.’
Mina offered what she hoped was a friendly smile. ‘It is very good of you to come. I believe we have matters of some significance to us both to discuss.’
‘We do, but I confess I hardly know where to begin.’
Mina waited a little and sipped her tea, but he appeared unable to gather his thoughts. ‘Please begin by reassuring me that Miss Hartop is making a good recovery.’
He blinked and nodded. ‘She is, yes, thank you. The symptoms when they struck were quite violent and distressing, but they were also short-lived, and thereafter it was a matter of rest and getting her strength back. The only concern is —’ He paused, then glanced at his tea and back at Mina, who was alternately drinking her tea and eating a strawberry tartlet with as much delicacy as she could manage, since cook had been generous with the jam. ‘Dr McClelland has said that she has suffered damage to her throat as a result of something corrosive in nature. She was unable to speak at all at first but is now able to converse in a whisper. We don’t know how much her voice will recover, but we hope that further improvement is possible. This means that for the time being she is unable to continue her calling as a medium.’
Mina nodded. ‘I am glad to know that she is out of danger. I never consulted her as a medium, although my brother Richard told me that she enjoyed some success.’
‘Ah yes, your brother.’ There was an awkward pause. ‘Hannah speaks very highly of him. She speaks of him quite often, and I had the impression — in fact, I was quite sure — that she had developed a strong liking for him.’
‘That is understandable,’ said Mina. ‘Richard can be very charming and is well-liked by all his friends.’
‘He visited us on two occasions, bringing gifts and good wishes from Mr Beckler, and I must say on that on brief acquaintance I thought him a very polite and pleasant young man. I confess that I was wondering if the friendship might become something more, but I now believe, and Hannah’s maid Tilly has indicated to me as much, that the — interest, for want of a better word, was all on the side of my daughter. Is that the case?’
‘I am sorry to disappoint you, but I can confirm that that is the case.’
Mr Hartop did not appear disappointed, or even very surprised. ‘Well, one cannot force affection. The fact is, I have to be very careful of my daughter. Most fathers are, of course, but in Hannah’s case, any man seeking to marry her will undoubtedly be aware that she may expect a substantial settlement. Last year a young gentleman, apparently respectable, asked my permission to pay his addresses to her. I decided to make enquiries about him, and it was a good thing I did. I discovered that he had heavy gambling debts and little inclination to change his ways, so I sent him packing.’
Mina could say nothing about this, but simply nodded, grateful that Mr Hartop had not made similar enquiries about Richard.
‘I believe,’ continued Mr Hartop, ‘that Hannah has been much admired recently by a young man who consulted her in her capacity as a medium. A Mr Septimus Clover. Do you know the gentleman?’
‘No, we have never met.’
‘I know of him,’ said Mr Hartop, but without displaying any enthusiasm. ‘He comes from a good family, professional gentlemen, well-known in the county, but — it is a family that has had
its troubles.’ He sighed. ‘And he is very young, too young for Hannah, hardly more than a student. He has no special prospects given that, as you can guess from his name, he is a younger son.’
Mina drained her teacup and refilled it. Mr Hartop glanced at his but did not touch it. ‘Is there something the matter with your tea, Mr Hartop? I do hope a wasp has not got into it. They can be very persistent at this time of year.’
‘Er, no, it is — perfectly good, thank you.’ He paused for thought. ‘I understand that you are acquainted with Viscount Hope, the author and explorer, Mr Arthur Wallace Hope as he prefers to be known.’
Mina did her best to keep her voice steady. ‘I am. We have met on a number of occasions.’
‘He came to visit my daughter this morning. He had heard from Mr Beckler of her development as a medium, and he was both delighted for her achievements and concerned for her health. He wanted to know if the rumours of poison were true, and I was obliged to inform him that a chemist has just confirmed that a chocolate given to Hannah contained arsenic in potentially fatal amounts and it was fortunate that she had not swallowed all of it. He was extremely shocked to hear it.
‘I told him how much I appreciated the support of Mr Beckler. I also chanced to mention that your brother had kindly visited my home with gifts for Hannah and that she is friends with you both. The moment I said that, I could see that Mr Hope was not pleased. He told me, with the greatest candour and sincerity, that he was very unhappy that your brother was working for his associate Mr Beckler, whom he regards as a promising young businessman and a psychic sensitive of almost limitless potential.
The Cyanide Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 6) Page 16
