The Royal Ghost

by Linda Stratmann

  Mina took her seat in the cab, but told the driver not to move off until directed and part drew the window curtain so she could peer out unnoticed. Had Anderson been waiting outside a shop selling confectionery or novels or millinery, Mina would have been able to guess where Enid was, but the nursemaid was exercising her charges around the gardens of the Old Steine. Enid could surely not be far away, but there were few locations in the immediate vicinity to tempt her. The area was, however, much populated by the surgeries of doctors and dentists and Mina wondered if Enid had arranged a medical consultation that she did not wish to reveal to her family. It was a worry, although Enid, she reflected, had not complained of her teeth, or any indisposition, and her husband had been absent too long for her to be in a delicate condition that was not yet apparent.

  Anderson walked on slowly, but then paused, leaned over the twins, made a great show of ensuring that they were warmly wrapped, turned about and walked back the way she had come. There was one other possibility, thought Mina with a horrible pang of dread; they were very close to the stately pile of the Royal Albion Hotel. Mina continued to keep watch for some minutes, and saw Anderson’s performance repeated a number of times. Finally, she ordered the cab home, wondering what to do.

  ‘Is Enid not yet home?’ said Mina lightly, as she joined her mother, who was toasting her toes before a crackling fire in the parlour. ‘Surely she isn’t shopping again? Does she not have enough ribbon?’

  ‘Enid has taken very well to the climate here,’ said Louisa. She was amusing herself with a dish of sugared almonds and a volume by the famed Brightonian master of literature Mr Tainsh, although she was quick to cast the book aside as soon as Mina entered. Even Louisa found so much noble virtue grating after a while. ‘She says it is good for the complexion, as the air is pure and the breeze stimulates the skin if there is not too much sun, and it is beneficial for the twins, too. They are still out for their walk, and may stop for refreshments before they return.’

  Mina said nothing. There was nothing she could decently say. She could hardly make an accusation without proof. She might almost wish she was able to divine thoughts as Mr Hope believed she could. Retiring to her room, she looked amongst her papers and found the card Mr Hope’s manservant had given her, showing that his master was staying at the Royal Albion Hotel. Had Enid really gone in to meet him there? Mina fervently hoped that nothing had occurred beyond smiles across a tea table. Even that was highly indiscreet. If they had spoken, the main subject of their conversation, once they had briefly revisited Enid’s great love of Africa, Mr Hope’s concerns about the safety of Dr Livingstone, and the new science of mind-reading, would almost certainly have been Mina’s intransigent attitude to Miss Eustace. Hope could not parade Miss Eustace in front of Mina and ask her to change her mind, so, thought Mina, he was using the Misses Bland and Mystic Stefan as lesser weapons of persuasion, and engaging both Enid and Louisa as agents and spies in her home.

  When Enid finally returned an hour later she announced that the walk had done her a great deal of good, and she did appear undeniably cheerful.

  ‘I hope you did not find the Marine Parade too blustery,’ said Mina.

  ‘Why no, the air was most invigorating.’ Enid gave a little frown. ‘How do you know where we walked?’

  ‘I attended Dr Hamid’s establishment – do you know it? It is close by the Royal Albion Hotel. I chanced to see you and Anderson with the twins. At least, I saw Anderson, so I assume that you were shopping nearby, or perhaps sheltering from the breeze. It is a pleasant location, but when the wind blows too fiercely it may be hazardous.’

  A variety of emotions flitted across Enid’s face.

  ‘I would not wish you to expose yourself to any possible dangers,’ Mina went on.

  Enid’s lips trembled then she threw back her head in defiance. ‘I thank you for your concern. Yes, the wind is fierce, but I can endure it.’

  Twenty-Five

  The day passed without a visit from Mr Hope. Mina suspected that the public revelation of the plagiarism action had, in view of his pronouncements about An Encounter, required some urgent investigation. He had probably tried to arrange another meeting with the Bland sisters to discover what they had to say on the matter. Mr Hope, she realised, the man who could stare a charging elephant in the face without flinching, did have one fear – of being made to look a fool.

  Next morning, Enid and her mother went out in each other’s company together with Anderson, to show off the twins to one of the few notable residents of Brighton who had not yet been privileged to view them, and Richard left the house for an unknown destination almost as soon as he had breakfasted.

  Mina was busy completing her new story about the man pursued by demons. The narrative had changed somewhat since its original conception. When she had started to write, the demons had been real and hounded the sinful victim to his grave, where he discovered that even this gave him no respite from their torments. Now the story ended with the revelation that the demons only existed in his overheated brain. Mina was in two minds as to whether death would bring an end to his sufferings or not. Did one lifetime of sin really deserve an eternity of punishment? She supposed it must depend on the sin. Looking back on the earlier pages she saw that she had only alluded to the man’s many foul deeds without describing them, leaving the reader to colour in the picture. She hardly felt qualified to insert more frankness, which in any case would result in an unpublishable manuscript. Instead, Mina delved into her stock of adjectives. A few examples of ‘unspeakable’, ‘heinous’ and ‘loathsome’ would suffice.

  She was still debating with herself how to end the narrative when she heard the doorbell. Hoping that the visitor was merely a messenger, or an importunate tradesman, a situation that only required Rose to send him away with a snarl, she took no notice until Rose knocked at her door. ‘It’s Mr Hope,’ she said. ‘He is asking for you most particularly.’

  Mina sighed. She might have asked that he be told to leave, but there would be no use in that, as he would only keep returning until satisfied, and in the light of recent developments she was extremely curious to know what he would say. ‘Very well, ask him to wait in the parlour. I will come down and speak to him, but you are to remain in the room throughout. Do not leave us alone together for even a moment.’

  Rose gave Mina a surprised look, and a spate of questions trembled on her lips but remained unspoken. ‘Yes, Miss.’

  As she descended the stairs, Mina reflected on the fact that her visitor had appeared at a time when she was almost alone in the house. Was this mere coincidence, or had he been informed by Enid as to when this might be possible?

  Mr Hope looked friendly enough, as he always did, but wore a look of underlying concern. His discomfiture deepened when Rose, instead of dutifully removing herself from the room, as he must have anticipated, went to stand in a corner and remained there like a statue, her gaze fixed firmly on the carpet.

  ‘Miss Scarletti, I apologise for calling on you without notification,’ he began.

  Mina did not sit but merely placed a hand on the back of a chair for support, neither did she offer Mr Hope a seat. It was the clearest possible indication that their interview was not to be a long one. For his part, Hope looked too distracted to want to sit. ‘I am sure you would not have done so without good reason,’ she replied.

  Hope glanced at Rose. ‘I could not trouble you for a glass of water?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh we can do better than that. Rose, please pour a glass of that lovely mineral water for Mr Hope.’

  There was a bottle of Dr Hamid’s spiced berry water and some glasses in the room, and Rose obeyed. Hope, who had quite clearly not noticed the presence of the beverage, and had made the request anticipating that Rose would be obliged to leave the parlour to enable him to interview Mina alone, attempted unsuccessfully to conceal his disappointment. He took the glass, but was still too agitated to think of sitting down.

  ‘I assume that refreshment
was not the sole object of your visit?’ said Mina.

  He glanced at Rose again. ‘The purpose of my visit is such that I would prefer to speak with you in private.’

  ‘Maybe so, but I am afraid that will not be possible. When we last spoke alone my mother discovered it, and delivered a substantial scolding to me afterwards. She is very strict about these things and thought it most improper. People do gossip. At least let me know your subject. If you wish to make me a proposal of marriage you will need to speak to mother first.’

  Mr Hope looked understandably alarmed, and for a few moments was unable to make a coherent reply. ‘But I am sure that is not the purpose of your visit,’ Mina continued. ‘Let me reassure you that Rose is the soul of discretion and will not discuss your business.’ Rose favoured Mr Hope with an unsmiling glance, which he did not appear to find encouraging.

  At length he sighed and gave in. He drained the glass and set it down. ‘Very well. I have just been advised of the date that Miss Eustace’s trial begins, it is only four weeks from now. That might seem like a long time but it is very little when one considers how much information is still to be gathered, and the number of witnesses to be found and statements assembled. Can you reassure me that you will be providing the signed document we discussed earlier? I was wondering if it would help you to make your decision if you were to pay a visit to Miss Eustace and have some conversation with her. I would be happy to arrange it.’

  Mr Hope was a tall man, a broad man. He towered over Mina, he overshadowed her like a leviathan come up from the deep, while she, a tiny frail sprat had only moments to see her doom before she was swallowed.

  Mina faced him boldly. He was no charging elephant, but he was just as dangerous. ‘I have no intention of seeing Miss Eustace again until she appears in the dock at the Lewes Assizes. Neither can I presently see my way to providing you with the statement you require. In fact, I am unable to discuss this matter with you at all. I have been ordered by my solicitor to do no such thing except in his presence. It follows, of course, that anything we say here without him as a witness has no legal force.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Hope, with a grim expression.

  Mina smiled, a sweet innocent smile. ‘Neither do I. The law is such a curious thing, is it not? But I am told that that is the case. What I suggest to you, Mr Hope, is that you make an appointment to see my solicitor and then we may conduct this conversation properly in his presence.’

  ‘Who is your solicitor?’

  ‘Mr Phipps.’

  ‘Of Phipps, Laidlaw and Phipps? Which one is he?’

  ‘Neither, he is Mr Ronald Phipps.’

  Hope uttered a groan of despair. ‘He is a bad choice. I am sorry to hear it.’

  ‘In the meantime, I suggest you peruse the most recent edition of the Gazette, which has some interesting information regarding the authors of An Encounter. If you continue to support their cause I can hardly support you.’

  He gave a scornful grunt. ‘I have seen the article. It was almost to be expected. The newspapers are unfailingly inimical to the world of the spirit. They cannot see the great truth – they only know how to deride it so they may sell more copies to the ignorant and the bigoted. It may interest you to know that the Misses Bland are even now in Brighton; in fact, I have already had a meeting with them. They have a perfect defence to the charge, and in time their extraordinary abilities will become apparent to the world.’

  ‘A perfect defence? What can it be?’

  It was his turn to smile, and it was not a pleasant sight. ‘Oh I couldn’t possibly discuss that with you. It is a legal question.’

  ‘I would very much like to meet these ladies.’

  ‘So would many people, and you may do so in time, but for now they are reluctant to conduct any private interviews. It is my intention to introduce them gradually into society in small select gatherings, in which the people of Brighton can properly appreciate them. Their book is just a beginning. The Misses Bland are destined to achieve great fame. They will be celebrated all over the world. Jealous people who accuse them of dishonesty will find their efforts rebound upon them and do great harm.’

  ‘Have you read the work which was copied?’

  ‘I dispute the word “copied”,’ he said quickly.

  ‘But what else could it be, if not copied?’

  ‘That will be apparent in due course.’ He offered no further clues, but Mina suddenly saw it all, including, chillingly, the reason why he had involved her and her family in the ‘willing game’.

  ‘I think our discussion must end there,’ she said. ‘Rose, please show Mr Hope out.’

  ‘I can see all his plan,’ Mina told Richard later. ‘I cannot discuss it with mother, who would not listen in any case, and Enid is half in love with the man.’

  ‘She is entirely in love with him,’ said Richard. ‘Her husband is a poor forgotten creature, and if he ever comes home she will stamp on him like a rat. But Mr Hope’s plan?’

  ‘The Misses Bland have been accused of plagiarism. They deny copying the original work, yet the similarities are too great to plead coincidence. I think they mean to say that they read it from the mind of the writer or something very like it, and wrote it down in all innocence thinking it was their own.’

  ‘Will such a defence help them?’

  ‘I doubt that a judge will be convinced. But what Mr Hope is trying to do now is create witnesses who will attest to their abilities. He wants to introduce the ladies into society where they will no doubt perform the “willing game” with great success in front of the best citizens of Brighton. These people will then all be called upon to add some weight to the claims. He has already tried to convince me, and mother and Enid. If the dispute comes to court and there are men of spiritualist persuasion there, the Misses Bland could be given the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘What about Mystic Stefan? What is his place in Mr Hope’s schemes? I thought Hope was using him to bring you onto the side of the spiritualists but if that is the case he has made a poor effort of it so far.’

  ‘Mystic Stefan claims to be no more than a conjuror. But he is very skilled. Perhaps in return for Mr Hope’s sponsorship he is willing to testify that what Miss Eustace and the Misses Bland do cannot be accounted for by stage trickery.’

  It was a reasonable enough explanation but Mina felt sure that there was something else staring her in the face, something important which she was just not seeing.

  Twenty-Six

  The public revelation of the plagiarism case and Mr Hope’s visit gave Mina an ideal excuse to see Mr Phipps again. She was also anxious to know if he had discovered anything of value. Young Mr Phipps was with a client when she arrived, but he was willing to conclude his business quickly in order to see Mina and she did not have long to wait.

  ‘Are you acting for the plaintiff?’ she asked him, showing him the newspaper.

  ‘Not personally; Mr Laidlaw is undertaking that, and of course I am not at liberty to divulge the identity of the author.’

  ‘But can you tell me if what the newspapers say is correct?’

  He paused. ‘I do not know where they got their information but they have done their work well.’

  ‘Do you know who is acting for the defendants?’

  ‘They have engaged a London man. One of the best.’

  ‘And therefore the most expensive?’

  ‘Indeed. No man of reputation would defend such a case unless he was very well paid.’

  ‘I am not sure if the Misses Bland have revealed this, but I think I know what their defence will be. The sisters will claim to be mediums and say that they obtained the manuscript through the spirits, or by mind-reading, or some such device.’

  ‘Surely not!’ exclaimed Phipps derisively.

  ‘Mr Hope visited me unexpectedly this morning. I made sure there was a witness to the conversation but in any case refused to discuss Miss Eustace. But he has been trying to convince me and my family that mind-readi
ng is a fact. He would not, of course, tell me what the Misses Bland’s defence will be, but if the two works are sufficiently similar, so as not to support a claim of coincidence, then I think that it can hardly be anything else.’

  ‘That will not be favourably received in court.’

  ‘Mr Hope also told me that he intends to introduce the ladies to Brighton society. He must be trying to convert respectable citizens by having them observe the sisters reading minds, and thus create witnesses as to their abilities.’

  ‘He might try. But I understand your concern. He is a very influential and respected man, and money is no object to him. I suggest, however, Miss Scarletti, that you can safely leave this question in our hands. I will, of course, pass all your observations to Mr Laidlaw.’

  Mina acquiesced. ‘During my conversation with Mr Hope he actually suggested that I visit Miss Eustace in prison.’

  Mr Phipps looked startled. ‘I sincerely hope you did not agree!’

  ‘I did not, and told him that if he wishes to discuss her forthcoming trial with me, he should do so in your presence. I expect you may be hearing from him soon.’

  Mr Phipps winced, indicating how little he was looking forward to this.

  ‘I fear that the case against her will rest solely on what passed at her private sittings with Miss Whinstone. Can she not be tried for fraudulent mediumship? There is abundant evidence of that.’

  ‘There is no law specifically against it, unless one wishes to charge her with pretending to summon spirits under the Witchcraft Act of 1735.’

  ‘And the penalty?’ asked Mina hopefully.

  ‘Burning is no longer an option. In fact, such cases rarely end in a custodial sentence.’

  ‘I can see why the more serious charge was preferred,’ said Mina, imagining Miss Eustace tied to a ducking stool. She made another note in her pocketbook. ‘But she might well escape if Mr Hope has his way.’

  Mr Phipps, more than usually glum, could only agree. ‘Does the man have no weaknesses?’