There was only one answer Mina could give. ‘I will do my best. May I retain these papers for study?’
‘Yes, if you have some secure place for them.’
They were too bulky for Mina’s correspondence box, but she did have a lockable drawer in her writing desk which Miss Cherry had already explored and was unlikely to do so again. Here the papers were deposited.
As Mrs Vardy prepared to leave, she stopped and inhaled. ‘There is a delightful scent in the air, but I see no flowers.’
‘Ah yes, that is massage oil. Miss Hamid came to me this morning.’
‘Oh, she is a wonder, is she not? The steam cure is so calming.’
‘Perhaps Franklin would benefit from it?’
‘In time, perhaps, but he sleeps so little at night that he rests during the day. My sister Marion is always there to watch over him, and she feels that the peace and quiet of that time is as good as any treatment and he ought not to be disturbed.’
Aunt Marion was a witch, of that Franklin was sure. He had read of such persons, not in anything his mother might have liked him to read, but one of the boys at school had a story called The Witch’s Dark Spell, written by Robert Neil, which he had lent to him. It had been very frightening indeed and now he wished he had never read it, but it did answer all his questions. During the day Aunt Marion looked almost normal. He had always thought that witches were supposed to be very ugly, but he had learned from the story that they had spells that could make them look beautiful and made people trust them, even love them. Aunt Marion was quite good-looking he supposed, but when she snarled and snapped at him her face creased up and became quite twisted. That was her real witch face coming out, but no-one else but he was able to see it.
She didn’t have a cauldron to mix her potions, but she had a little jug that she stirred things up in, some white powder and sugar and water, and insisted he swallowed a dose, saying that it would make him well again. He didn’t like the potion, but Mr Vardy had insisted that he must take all his medicine, or he would never get better. It was as clear as plain water, but it smelt funny and stung his nostrils and tasted both sweet and bitter. Sometimes after taking it, his head ached, and he felt drowsy and sick. He was sure that he was being poisoned.
Franklin determined that if he was given the nasty medicine again, he would try and hold it in his mouth for as long as he could so the witch would think he had swallowed it, then when she had gone, he would spit it out into a handkerchief. If only he knew how, he would send a letter to Mr Robert Neil, telling him that he was a victim of a witch and begging for rescue, but he was friendless and alone, adrift in a sea of troubles.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Phipps and Co
Solicitors
Middle Street
Brighton
March 1872
Dear Miss Scarletti
I have made some further efforts to trace Mr William Sutherland but without success. Neither he nor his business are listed in any of the current London or Home Counties directories. Earlier directories show that at the time of the Holt tragedy Mr Sutherland was in partnership with a Mr Albert Fenwick, who I have traced, but he declines to make any statement saying simply that has not seen his former partner for several years.
I did however briefly correspond with a cousin of Mr Sutherland, who is an accountant residing in London. He has advised me that Mr Sutherland gave up his London office some years ago and is now in another line of business. I was not provided with an address; however, I was given to understand that he has no intention of discussing the disappearance of Mr Holt with anyone. The cousin could only say that there was no doubt in his mind that Mr Sutherland would always maintain that Mr Holt’s death was an unfortunate accident.
I am sorry I could not be of any further assistance, but I will let you know if I hear anything further.
Yours faithfully,
R Phipps
The next time Dr Hamid called to see Mina he was unusually quiet and reserved. He studied her respiration and pulse stating that they were as good if not better than he had hoped but not as good as he would eventually like them to be, but more than that he seemed reluctant to say. His manner suggested that he was concerned to begin a new subject for fear of where it would lead him.
He was packing his medical bag and preparing to leave, when after standing up he paused, and abruptly sat down again.
‘Thank you,’ said Mina, who had been watching him carefully and understood the reason for his discomfort. ‘What news do you have for me?’
The medical bag was on his lap, and he stared down at it, his hand wrapped reassuringly about the leather-bound handle. To any patient, anyone passing him in the street, it was a symbol of his profession. Mina felt suddenly guilty at how often she had engaged his help and pushed him further than he might have wanted to go. They had first met at a séance when Mina had been investigating the activities of Miss Eustace and he had been seeking answers in the midst of grief following the death of his wife. His eyes had been opened to the duplicity of mediums, but Mina knew that he had never lost hope.
Decisively, he picked up the bag, and placed it on the floor beside the chair. ‘You are aware of course that many people come to the Baths not because they are unwell, but to restore and refresh themselves and therefore they cannot be regarded as patients but clients. We offer a service. It is not in any way a medical consultation.’
‘I do appreciate that,’ said Mina.
‘If we can proceed with that understanding —?’
‘We can.’
‘Very well, I have examined all our records, and can confirm that Mr Jasper Holt, the missing man we have spoken of, was never a patient of mine. Neither did he ever ask me informally for medical advice. In fact, I don’t believe that I have ever met him. However . .’ He gestured uncertainly.
Mina smiled. ‘Now that we have dealt with the question of patient confidentiality I would very much like to know about the ‘“however”.’
‘Yes. The thing is, Mr Holt did visit the Baths. He had an account and he used our services. This was not in the year before his disappearance, but prior to that, when I assume that his business was not in difficulties and he was more prosperous. It must have been his later financial situation that resulted in his giving up the account. But when he came, he took vapour baths and he also used the services of a masseur.’
‘Is the masseur still employed by you?’
‘He is, and I have spoken to him.’
‘Since Mr Holt is legally dead, I don’t think you need trouble about what either you or the masseur might have to say,’ Mina hinted. ‘Or do you think he may still be alive?’
‘No, I think that he is dead. Although he did not consult me, he confided to the masseur that he had been having symptoms which had troubled him, and the masseur very sensibly advised him to see his doctor. Holt however replied that he did not want to see his family doctor — that would have been Dr McClelland — in case his wife was to learn of it and become anxious. The masseur then suggested that he consult another doctor, but of course he did not know whether Holt actually did so.’
‘Could you discover anything about Mr Holt’s state of health from what he told the masseur?’
‘Never having examined Mr Holt, I can only judge by the symptoms he reported, but based on those, I think it is very possible that there was a weakness in the functioning of his heart, something for which there is no cure and would have shortened his life.’
‘Ah,’ said Mina, ‘that is interesting, and I have learned something recently which strengthens that conclusion. I have spoken to Mrs Vardy again, and raised with her the question of Mr Holt’s health. She knew nothing of any visit to a doctor, and although she noticed that her husband was tired, she assumed it was simple weariness from long hours of work, something that he claimed was a temporary situation. But she did mention to me that Mr Holt’s father had died of a failure in the action of the heart at the age of fifty-two. Naturally she express
ed concern about this to her husband, but he reassured her that he did not suffer in the same way as his father. But he could have been lying in order not to worry her.’
‘He would not be the first man to do so,’ said Dr Hamid, wryly.
‘If we assume that Mr Sutherland’s account of Mr Holt falling overboard is true, then Mr Holt might have died from the sudden fall into the water, creating a strain on his heart, whether or not he struck his head. In fact, now that I think about it, we don’t even know for certain that he did strike his head, that was Mr Sutherland’s assumption, which he based on the fact that he saw Mr Holt unconscious and then sinking very quickly. Under the circumstances is there any possibility at all that Mr Holt could have survived?’
Dr Hamid gave Mina’s query some thought. ‘That is not an easy question to answer. In such cases there are so many things to consider. Much depends on how good a swimmer he was, and how encumbered by clothing. There are also the weather and the tides to take into account, and how far from shore he was when he fell, whether or not he was injured by the fall, and how weak his heart was at the time. If he was unconscious, then probably not. If he was conscious, then panicked and struggled, I think not.’
‘I understand that he was a good swimmer, and on that day the weather was good and the sea calm and the yacht not far from shore.’
‘Then there was a slight chance. And in view of the attempted fraud the insurance company was quite right not to pay out on the policy, especially as there was no witness to the events other than the boatman whose account must be regarded with caution. Who knows, Mr Holt might never have fallen into the water at all, and was simply put ashore? But even if he had fallen and survived, his years of life were more limited than those of another man, and he was aware of it.’
‘But do you think he had years, rather than weeks or months to live?’
‘His general bodily health, according to the masseur, was otherwise robust, so yes, if he took good care of himself, he would have had several years.’
‘Then is it possible that he is still alive?’
‘I wouldn’t rule it out. If I am pressed, I would say that there is a chance, just a very slight chance that he is still alive, but if so, I would be prepared to find him a very unwell man.’
Phipps and Co
Solicitors
Middle Street
Brighton
March 1872
Dear Miss Scarletti
Further to my recent letter I have been discussing your enquiries with one of the senior partners here who recalls the disappearance of Mr Holt and had some dealings with the estate. I do not know if this is of any interest to you, but the name of Mr Sutherland also came up in connection with a court case following events that took place in the previous year. It relates to charges of conspiracy to commit fraud levelled against the directors and officers of the Maritime Queen Insurance Company Ltd. Mr Sutherland was initially suspected of being involved in the conspiracy but after being questioned by the police it was accepted that he had only provided professional advice to the company in the usual way of business, and he was never charged with any offence. I don’t believe his name ever appeared in the press in connection with the case.
Yours faithfully,
R Phipps
Dear Mr Phipps
Thank you for your letter. I was wondering if you could tell me more about the fraud case you mentioned. How did the charges come about? Who were the other defendants? Was there any mention of Mr Holt in connection with the case?
Yours faithfully,
M Scarletti
Dear Miss Scarletti
Thank you for your letter.
The Maritime Queen Insurance Company Ltd was formed in 1863 with its administrative offices at an address in Old Steine. The board of directors included a distinguished retired naval officer, Captain Horace Bulstrode, a highly regarded gentleman of impeccable reputation, who had served for many years as a Sussex magistrate. It was later established that Captain Bulstrode had had nothing at all to do with the conduct of the company and was a mere figurehead intended by the managers to provide an impression of respectability to their enterprise in order to attract wealthy investors. Two friends of Captain Bulstrode, retired military gentlemen who were not resident in Brighton were also, through him, drawn into the net, to the great embarrassment of all three. The other directors who were suspects in the fraud, included a Mr John Taylor, the secretary of a friendly society, Mr Walter Randall, a payroll clerk, and a Mr William Cobbe, bank manager.
Taylor and Randall had issued a false prospectus and a false balance sheet, the documents convincingly drawn up to persuade investors that the company had substantial assets, which was not the case. When the fraud was exposed the company was wound up with enormous debts and the investors lost all their money.
When the case finally came to trial in 1864, it was found that Taylor and Randall, each of whom had been bailed in the sum of £2,000, were nowhere to be found. It was eventually discovered that they had absconded and gone abroad, much to the distress of the friends who had stood surety for them in good faith. The other defendants were all acquitted.
I do not believe that Mr Holt was involved with the fraud, or at any rate his name has never been mentioned in connection with it.
Yours faithfully
R Phipps
William Cobbe, bank manager, thought Mina. Could he be the same man who attended Mrs Barnham’s séances, the man concerning whom Mr Merridew entertained suspicions?
It was late afternoon, the time between luncheon and dinner, when the minds of English persons naturally turn to the subject of tea. Mina had just enjoyed a cup of milky tea and a slice of plain sponge cake and was comfortably settled in the armchair where she was now preferring to spend more of her time than in her bed. She was studying Page’s Directory which Rose considered to be very peculiar reading indeed since it was only lists of names and advertisements. Every so often, Mina would look up at the window, hoping for a turn in the weather. She was craving the brightness of the sun, warm breezes on her face, and the smell of the sea. Disappointed in the prospect of all three, she returned to the book, when there was a knock on her door, and she raised her head with a sudden realisation of how weary she was and rubbed her eyes.
Rose entered, thankfully without the hot poultice, which was now no longer thought necessary, bearing only a visitor’s card which she was regarding with an expression of curiosity.
‘It’s a Mr Vardy, Miss. He presents his compliments, and good wishes for your health, and says that if you are too fatigued to see him, he quite understands, and if that is the case, he will depart without troubling you and come another time. Were you expecting him?’
‘I was not.’ Mina looked at the card, which advertised the company of Saltmire and Vardy, Fine Porcelain, but was also printed with the name S Vardy, managing director. ‘Where is he now?’
‘In the front parlour, Miss.’
‘I take it he only wishes to see me if I am well enough to endure company?’
‘Yes, Miss.’ Rose gave her a hard look but did not express an opinion.
‘Well I shan’t disappoint him.’ Mina decided that she ought to have another person present at her interview with a male stranger. ‘Where is mother?’
‘Mrs Scarletti is in the drawing room with Mrs Phipps and Mrs Bettinson and a great deal of cake. Miss Cherry is there too. She is wearing a new bonnet.’
Mina smiled. ‘In that case I will not ask you to disturb them. Is my brother here? I suppose he is not back from his employment yet.’
‘No, Miss.’
‘Very well. You may bring some tea if Mr Vardy wishes it. And cake if there is any left. Don’t bring the biscuits, they are only fit to make trifle. Since I am not acquainted with Mr Vardy, I will require you to remain.’
Rose departed, and Mina settled comfortably in her swaddle of shawls and wraps and scarves. The directory had already informed her that the Vardys occupied a family house in Ho
ve, in one of the tall white terraces sloping down towards the sea, which proclaimed them to be comfortably off although not especially wealthy.
Rose appeared with Mr Vardy but no tea or cake. Mina reassured the maid that there was nothing more she required and there was a desultory arranging of the blankets about her shoulders which needed no arranging but served to enable Rose to stare closely at Mr Vardy a little longer before she settled into a chair in the corner and took out needle, thread and a handkerchief that required some attention to its edging.
Mr Vardy remained standing and smiled at Mina. He was clearly awaiting orders. ‘Please do take a seat, Mr Vardy,’ said Mina.
He bowed and drew up an armchair facing her. ‘I am very happy to find that you are able to agree to my visit,’ he said. ‘I have heard reports that you have been extremely unwell, and I did fear that you might not yet be strong enough for an interview.’
‘Rest assured that I am mending well, and my doctor advises me that I can expect a return to full health,’ said Mina.
Mr Vardy smiled again. Mina studied his appearance and estimated that he was aged about thirty-five. He was above medium height, very well groomed with smooth dark hair and a short finely trimmed beard. It struck Mina that had she been writing a mystery story about a missing man who was rumoured to be dead, she might have devised a plot in which he returned under another name having changed his appearance in order to avoid his creditors, and remarried the supposed widow. This clearly could not be the case here, as Mr Vardy was too young, too tall and too robust to be the ailing and middle-aged Mr Holt in disguise.
He sat at ease his hands folded together. If he had ever worked with porcelain in his life there was no sign of it, none of the wear that would have imprinted itself on his skin. Mina guessed that he had always been an office administrator, more used to pen and ink than paste and kiln.
His Father's Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 5) Page 14
