‘I mean, you can be a bit frightening at times, and you are always so stern when you tell me what to do, but Beckler doesn’t seem to mind that. I don’t know if ladies admire Beckler at all. He does look like one of those black spidery creatures with long legs that one sees in the summertime. And the features of his face are very pronounced in a peculiar kind of way. Do ladies admire that sort of thing?’
‘I really couldn’t say.’
‘But he knows his business, and works hard and makes money, so that has to be all right. Even Mother likes him. She has always said that you shouldn’t marry, but perhaps she has changed her mind. The only person who seems set against the idea is you.’ He paused. ‘You are giving me that stern look again.’
Phipps and Co
Solicitors
Middle Street
Brighton
March 1872
Dear Miss Scarletti
I have recently had a conversation with one of the senior partners of our firm who recalls the Maritime Queen Insurance case I mentioned in my previous letter. When I last wrote to you, I had assumed that the two absconding officers of the company, Taylor and Randall, had not been found, but he has informed me that a few years afterwards both men were residing in Antwerp where they were engaged in launching a similar scheme. Fortunately, they were recognised and reported to the authorities before the intended victims could be parted from their money. There was a violent quarrel between the two, and Randall was later found dead in circumstances which suggested that he had been murdered, most probably by his former associate. Taylor escaped arrest and has not been seen since, although there have been rumours that he returned to England under an assumed name. I do hope that this is not the case as he is clearly a highly dangerous individual.
Yours faithfully
R Phipps
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Miss Cherry had spent another morning with Mrs Phipps and returned from her expedition looking well and happy and a little flushed. She came to see Mina almost immediately and was too excited even to remove her new bonnet, which Mina could see was very handsomely trimmed.
‘Oh, Miss Scarletti!’ she began, and stopped short to catch her breath.
Mina laid aside her newspaper. ‘What is it, Miss Cherry? No, let me guess. You have received an offer of employment from Mrs Phipps and wish to be released from the arrangement to attend me.’
Miss Cherry looked surprised. ‘I — yes, if that is convenient.’
Mina smiled reassuringly. ‘Miss Cherry, you have been a credit to your profession. I am profoundly grateful for your diligence which I know has gone a long way to ensuring my recovery. And I am delighted that you have been made such an excellent offer. Have no fear, I will set you free. I will also ensure that your account with us is settled without any delay. And I will happily include the free mornings and afternoons.’
‘Why, thank you, that is most kind. But Miss Scarletti —’
‘Oh, think nothing of it,’ said Mina generously. ‘I was wondering if you have seen Mrs Vardy recently? Have you heard anything of Master Franklin Holt? Is he well? I do hope so.’
‘I have not heard that he is any better — but — Miss Scarletti —’ Miss Cherry’s eyes were wider and greener than they had ever been, and the earnestness of her manner commanded Mina’s full attention, ‘do you mean to say that you have not heard the latest news?’
‘The latest? No. Only what I have read in the press. What has happened? I hope it is nothing bad.’
‘Oh, but it is all over town! It is tremendously exciting! I heard it from a lady who came into the draper’s shop and told my mother this morning. It’s Mr Holt. He’s come back!’
Mina struggled to make sense of this declaration. ‘What? Mr Holt? Mr Jasper Holt? The man who was declared dead not so long ago?’
Miss Cherry nodded energetically. ‘Yes!’
‘But where? How? Is he alive?’
‘Oh yes, he is very much alive. He just walked into the police office at the Town Hall this morning and said who he was.’
‘Did this lady see him? How did he appear? Was he well or ill?’
‘She didn’t see him, but she knows a lady who did. Like an old tramp, so she was told, and very poorly. But well-spoken.’
Mina took a few moments to collect her thoughts. She could hardly think that this man could really be Mr Holt, although Dr Hamid had said that the missing man would probably be very ill if alive. If Jasper Holt had been hiding in frugal circumstances, or even living as a beggar, he might well appear old and dishevelled. Suddenly she thought of the broader consequences of this news. ‘Has Mrs Vardy been told?’
‘I don’t know. I expect so. Poor lady, what a dreadful thing for her. I mean, she must be happy that her husband is alive, but — well — I can only imagine that her position is very complicated now. So as soon as I heard about it, I went and told Mr Phipps, and he went to tell his uncle who rushed away to see for himself. Then he came back and said that it was true — a man calling himself Mr Holt was at the Town Hall and a correspondent from The Times was there, writing a report.’
‘The Times? The London Times? That was very quick of them.’
‘Yes. Apparently, the man came down to Brighton this morning to interview the new manager of the Aquarium and found a better story. I thought The Times only printed serious news. I didn’t know it liked a scandal.’
‘All newspapers like a scandal,’ said Mina. ‘I shall make sure to purchase a copy tomorrow.’ She tried to think about anyone else from whom she could glean some news but realised that she would have to wait until Richard was home, unless any of her mother’s friends should pay a visit.
‘And I promise to call again when I can with any more information.’
‘That would be appreciated. I am sure you will be calling here often in the company of your new charge.’
Miss Cherry smiled contentedly. ‘I will. Mrs Phipps is a very nice lady and we suit each other well. She does so enjoy taking tea with Mrs Scarletti. I am only sorry that I didn’t manage to finish reading The Young Woman’s Companion to you. There were so many choice articles. Please say that you don’t mind.’
Louisa Scarletti was not at home that morning. Her previous visit to the Ship Street photographic emporium had been pronounced a success. Entertained by a display of beautiful portraits, she had simply assumed that they were all Richard’s expert productions and her confidence in her favourite son’s artistic genius therefore remained undented. She had easily been persuaded to make an appointment to sit for a photograph, an event which had resulted in a flurry of decisions as to which would be the most appropriate gown to wear and the best accessories, a decision which had occupied Rose’s tireless energies for an entire day.
Louisa returned home in time for luncheon, fresh from the delights of being fussed over and flattered, declaring loudly that she hoped she would not look like a terrible fright in her portrait, but in a manner that showed that she was well aware of her refined appearance. Richard, she said, had attended her with such delicacy and expertise it had quite taken her breath away. He had been able to judge when the best moment was to operate the camera without even touching it, leaving the heavier work to his partner. Mr Beckler, she told Mina, was a young man of ability and energy who only wanted a good wife to complete his happiness. He was not handsome, but then it was impossible for a husband to have every virtue. Mina could only respond that she hoped he would find someone suitable.
‘I am sure he will,’ said Louisa, patting her hair, ‘but Mina, you must have no ambitions in that direction, for the sake of your health.’
‘I promise you,’ said Mina sincerely, ‘Mr Beckler is as far from my ambitions as it is possible to be.’
‘And of course, you are needed too much at home. This is your proper place.’
‘Is there any interesting news in the town?’ Mina asked, hopefully.
Louisa gave a little gasp of disapproval. ‘Oh, my dear, I must not say, it is far too
alarming for you to contemplate. It almost verges on indecency and I cannot expose you to that. I am only surprised that Dr Hamid allows you to have newspapers, which are full of the most dreadful things. They would make me quite ill if I could bear to read them, so it is a wonder that you can manage. Why not write one of your pretty children’s stories to amuse yourself?’
Mina was resigned to the fact that unless Richard had any news she would have to wait until Rose brought her The Times next morning.
‘Have you heard the news about Mr Holt?’ asked Dr Hamid later that afternoon. He looked not so much excited but anxious in case Mina was prostrated by the revelation. It was clear that he had rushed round to see her because he wanted to be first with the information in case she became so excited that medical intervention should prove necessary.
‘Only that he has come alive again and is at the Town Hall,’ said Mina, calmly. ‘Is there more?’
He sat down, clearly relieved at her equanimity. ‘You always seem to know everything before anyone else. I can never discover where you get your information from, apart from extracting it from me, that is. No wonder people say you are in touch with the all-seeing spirits.’
Mina laughed but didn’t enlighten him. ‘How did you learn of it?’
‘I was passing through Bartholomew Square and saw a very substantial crowd gathered outside the Town Hall, and they were not there to purchase vegetables. Unusually for such assemblies the participants were both sober and respectable. Naturally I made enquiries and a gentleman told me that they were hoping to be allowed into the police office to speak to Mr Holt.’
‘And he believed that the man is actually Mr Holt?’
‘He felt sure of it. He has not actually seen him but like everyone else he is going by the description that has been bandied about, of a man of about the right age and build, and I suspect his own preferences. I was told that Mrs Vardy has been allowed in to see him, but she said that he was not Holt.’
‘Then that should settle the matter. Surely she ought to know her own husband?’
‘One would have thought so, but I am sorry to say that the men assembled outside the Town Hall refuse to believe the wife’s statement.’
‘Poor Mrs Vardy,’ said Mina sympathetically, ‘Is she not to be left in peace?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘But from what you say this is no idle rabble assembled out of curiosity.’
‘No, they were tradesmen and gentlemen of the business class.’
‘What interest or purpose can they have? I thought the estate had been settled.’
‘I did wonder, since if they are Mr Holt’s creditors, they can have no hope of retrieving their funds. But one of the gentlemen did introduce himself to me as Mr Stephen Westbury an accountant. His father, who is now retired from the practice once acted for Mr Holt, preparing the accounts of his business in good faith from the ledgers supplied. It transpired that Mr Holt’s figures were false, his debtors fictitious, and his bank account augmented by borrowings which were made to appear as profits. Mr Westbury senior became embroiled in the scandal that followed Mr Holt’s disappearance, and his reputation and business suffered badly since Mr Holt was not there to exonerate him from blame.’
‘I can understand the son’s anxiety for the father. So he just wants the good name of the family restored.’
‘Some of them have less creditable motives. Revenge. They want to see Holt in prison.’
‘How long did the crowds remain?’
‘I don’t know, I thought I should come and tell you what I know without delay, so I was obliged to come away. They were still there when I left. But your brother ought to be able to enlighten you.’
‘Richard?’ Mina found that news profoundly alarming. ‘Was he there? How was he involved? What can his concern be?’
‘I don’t think he was directly concerned. I saw him handing out some advertising cards.’ Dr Hamid adopted a cautious tone. ‘I hope this means he has some respectable employment.’
‘Oh, yes, of course, that must be it,’ said Mina, relieved, ‘he is working at a photographer’s shop in Ship Street, that is hardly two minutes’ walk away.’
‘You mean the new business, Mr Beckler’s?’ exclaimed Dr Hamid, startled. ‘Your brother is working for him?’
‘Yes,’ said Mina, with a sigh of regret. ‘Mother is very pleased about it.’
Mina had never seen Dr Hamid look more awkward. ‘Does Mr Beckler — er — continue his attentions towards you? When you first met him, I couldn’t help but notice — not that it is any business of mine, of course, but I was not under the impression that you — and I do not think your health permits — I’m sorry but what I meant to say was —’
‘My inclinations do not permit,’ said Mina with a smile.
Mina was impatient to hear what Richard would have to say and spent the rest of the afternoon worrying that he might decide to dine out after the shop closed. In that case she would probably not even see him until next morning, when he would have a headache and be disinclined to hold a conversation. Fortunately, she heard him arrive home at his usual time, in that dull interlude after tea and before dinner was announced, and he called on Mina at once.
‘There has been such excitement in town today,’ he said breathlessly, ‘The world of photographic art has never been more interesting! I now regret every wasted moment I laboured to make those drawings for the Journal. There is no doubt about it, the photograph is the future! It will take the place of the pencil, the pen and the brush. And today through the art of the camera, I have made my name!’ He thumped his chest with a fist and looked very proud.
‘So, sit down my dear, and tell me all about your day,’ said Mina. She listened expectantly but her brother’s announcements of this nature always provoked in her a sense of foreboding. ‘I know Mother sat for her portrait this morning.’
‘Oh yes, she was very pleased and is sure to tell everyone how well I did.’
‘And Dr Hamid says he saw you distributing cards.’
‘Yes — invitations to a special free exhibition. Portraits of the notable residents of Brighton, and a novelty, a picture taken inside a cave lit by the new metal ribbon that Beckler is so excited about.’
‘Is the inside of a cave so very interesting?’
‘It is not interesting at all. I can imagine all sorts of reasons why one might want to take photographs in the dark, but a cave is not one of them. Beckler, however is convinced that the public will flock to see the exhibition if he includes a demonstration of the action of the metal ribbon. They are bound to come even if only for the hope that he might set fire to himself.’
Mina smiled, but Richard, seeing that there was a tea tray nearby, inspected it, ate a stray biscuit, helped himself from the milk jug, and launched into his account which promised to be thirsty work.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Mina was unsurprised to learn that on leaving the shop with his bundle of cards Richard had not felt inclined to hurry about his task. There were some opportunities to hand out cards in Ship Street, a narrow busy thoroughfare, with its shops and inns and post office, but the traffic did not encourage idlers and strollers, so he had decided to cut through Prince Albert Street to Market Street, where there were butchers, bakers and fruit sellers, and the Market Hall, where there was sure to be a lot of people. There, he could dispose of the cards easily and quickly, leaving some free time to explore the more inviting possibilities of the cigar shop. He was approaching Bartholomew Square and its bustling vegetable market when he was attracted by the sight and sound of a large gathering of gentlemen outside the Town Hall and went to see what all the excitement was about.
‘That is where the police offices are,’ prompted Mina.
‘Yes, they were all standing about the front steps, and there were any number of discussions and debates going on. You might wonder why they didn’t go in but there were two constables standing on the top step guarding the doors. I think the constables had been s
pecially chosen for their general largeness which was quite extraordinary and went in all directions.
On the other side of the square, people were going about their daily business at the vegetable stalls but they also kept watch on the unusual assembly and I could see them talking about it with lots of shrugs and amusement.
‘Hallo, what’s the to-do?’ I asked weaving my way into the crowd. I tried to distribute some cards, but everyone was too engaged with other matters to care about photography, so I soon abandoned the attempt.
‘Haven’t you heard?’ said a short man with a round hat. ‘That miscreant Holt who ran off owing thousands and tried to pretend he was dead — he has just turned up as large as life and given himself up to the police.’
‘And then his wife came and had a look at him and said it isn’t him!’ added another man. He had red whiskers like a wild boar which trembled with indignation, even when he wasn’t speaking.
‘Yes, she and her brother were both here,’ said round hat. ‘They were hardly inside more than five minutes. I don’t think they looked at him at all. In fact, I think they made up their minds before they went in to say it wasn’t him.’
‘Oh, but do have some sympathy for the lady,’ said a third man, imploringly. He was a nervous looking type with a stiff collar and thinning hair. ‘If that is her husband then she is living in a sinful situation which she has not brought upon herself. I would not wish for any relative of mine to be placed in such a position.’
‘I’ve no sympathy for her!’ said round hat with a nasty sneer. ‘If you ask me, she knew from the start that he was a cheat. I think she helped him run off, and knew he was alive all the time. And then what does she do? Maybe she thinks he isn’t coming back, so first chance she gets she kills him off, legal-like, and takes up with some young fancy man. She probably got her brother to make him a partner in the business. That’s women, for you! I think that’s why Holt turned up again. To put her to shame.’
His Father's Ghost (Mina Scarletti Mystery Book 5) Page 16
