The Royal Ghost

by Linda Stratmann

  ‘Did you show it to anyone?’

  ‘No. It was so strange we didn’t know what anyone might make of it – or indeed, us.’

  ‘Why did you decide to have it published?’

  ‘It seemed to be the right thing to do. Why else would the story have come to us? Surely it was not intended for my sister and I alone, but for the world?’

  ‘Despite the passages that are held to be indecent?’

  ‘You must believe me, neither of us know which those passages might be. We have been told that there are some portions which might be read in that way, but we prefer not to enquire further.’

  ‘How can you explain the charge of plagiarism?’

  ‘I think you have gone far enough!’ said Hope, rising to his feet.

  ‘Mr Hope, I was afraid when you remained here that you would object to my questions, but can’t you see that all these matters are part and parcel of the same thing?’

  ‘I do not!’

  ‘We cannot explain the charges at all,’ said Bertha. ‘We have no knowledge of any other book describing a similar event. As far as we are aware we have copied nothing.’

  ‘And this is to be your defence if the case goes to court?’ asked Mina.

  ‘I doubt that it will go so far. We expect that all will be settled quietly without recourse to a public airing.’

  ‘That is as well since you will not be able to prove you received the book through a dream.’

  ‘No one can prove we ever went to the Royal Pavilion or saw a similar book.’

  ‘I think,’ broke in Mr Hope firmly, rising to his feet, ‘it would be advisable to end this interview now.’

  ‘As you wish,’ said Mina.

  ‘You must be aware that the time is fast approaching when I must press you for a decision on the document. You have two days. That is all.’ He conducted the Misses Bland from the room, his words ringing in Mina’s ears like a declaration of war.

  Thirty-Four

  Next morning, once breakfast was done, Louisa and Enid went out on one of their shopping expeditions to which Mina was never invited, since it went without saying that she would inevitably hinder their progress, spoil their enjoyment and was in any case deemed to have no interest in fashion. The twins were left in the care of Anderson, and Richard had just risen sleepily from his bed and was exploring the kitchen for leftovers of the family breakfast. Mina tried to settle to her writing, but her thoughts kept straying to the demonstration by the Misses Bland. While she could not by her own efforts devise how they had performed their mind-reading trick she recalled that Nellie, in the guise of the Ethiopian Wonder, had achieved something very similar when assisting Monsieur Baptiste, and determined to place the question before her.

  Mina had not expected Mr Hope to call so soon after the meeting for a private discussion, and was therefore surprised when the doorbell rang and Rose came to announce the visitor.

  ‘Yes, admit him to the parlour and fetch my brother to me,’ said Mina, hoping that his call meant that something at least might be resolved.

  Rose looked relieved that she was not to stand duty as witness again. There was some delay while Richard, devouring a toasted muffin into which he had thrust a cold fried egg and some bacon, was apprised of the situation, carelessly flung on some halfway respectable clothes and conducted Mina to the parlour, where Mr Hope awaited them.

  ‘Thank you for agreeing to see me,’ said Hope, in a milder tone than he had adopted the day before. ‘I feel I should apologise for becoming a little overwrought at the interview with the Misses Bland. It is hard when one can see so clearly the great shining light of an eternal truth and find that others who are far from ignorant and worthy of respect cannot see it and refuse even to make the attempt. Have you arrived at a conclusion?’

  ‘All I saw was a very pretty trick with cards. It reminded me of nothing more than the mind-reading acts of stage magicians.’

  ‘Then I hope you found it impressive? They and the stage magicians you mention are all adept at that skill. It is really quite marvellous!’

  Richard was lounging in an armchair, toying with his cigar case. Mina gave him a warning look, as their mother would never permit him to smoke in the parlour, and he returned it to his pocket. ‘Have you ever witnessed the Ethiopian Wonder?’ he asked.

  ‘Indeed I have,’ said Hope, enthusiastically, ‘I take an interest in all practitioners of that nature. She has the most extraordinary perception. If I could only persuade her to hold a séance I feel sure the results would be astounding!’

  ‘You see I have spoken to the lady, in fact I know her very well and she has taken me into her confidence. She has admitted to me that she has no psychic abilities and her act was all down to a clever feat of memory. Her partner, Monsieur Baptiste,’ Richard explained to Mina, ‘first blindfolded her, then he took items from the pockets of members of the audience and asked her to identify them. Every time, she was able to describe what object he was holding.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Hope, ‘how could she have guessed?’

  ‘Quite easily with a little preparation. There is only a limited selection of things one might have in one’s pockets, and there was a secret form of words for each. I am sure the Misses Bland have their own method of passing messages to each other.’

  Hope chuckled. ‘I am sorry to say that so many of our conjurors claim their work is only a trick. Some cannot recognise their abilities, which they undoubtedly have, and so they go on performing their acts and forever denying what God has given them. A few, unhappily, know exactly what it is they do and yet prefer to perform for their own advantage rather than use their gifts as they were intended to. The Misses Bland may not understand their powers but I am pleased to say they do not deny them.’

  ‘What about Dr Lynn, who introduced you to Mystic Stefan, is he also deluding himself?’

  ‘Lynn is a friend, and a splendid fellow in many respects. I know that in time he will come to see the true way. He thinks he knows how he performs his wonders, but what he achieves is quite impossible without the intervention of spirits. Miss Scarletti, can you now believe on the evidence of your own eyes that the Misses Bland are genuine? Would you be prepared to certify that? You may word the certificate in any way you please.’

  ‘My eyes told me that I saw an interesting trick, but I certainly cannot attest on that basis that I believe the Misses Bland to have spiritualistic abilities. I am also concerned that if I signed any such document it would be used to defend them against the charge of plagiarism. It might even be used in the defence of Miss Eustace in an attempt to show that I have changed my mind on the subject.’

  Hope’s sudden hard frown told Mina that her last surmise had hit home.

  ‘Why do you champion that woman – she is such a transparent fraud!’ demanded Richard.

  Mr Hope shook his head very emphatically. ‘She is no fraud! I know it! Oh I accept that spirit mediums attract the derision of the ignorant and blinkered, and they have learned to ignore such ill-judged criticism, but to threaten a virtuous lady with prison only for practising her skills for the common good is outrageous. I wish to see her freed and achieve the recognition she deserves.’

  ‘And you will achieve this by bringing her to Brighton to conduct a séance in the Pavilion?’ asked Mina.

  ‘That is my intention.’

  ‘You are aware, are you not, that even if Miss Eustace was acquitted, she would not be allowed to hold a séance in the Pavilion? The committee are quite against such demonstrations.’

  ‘They cannot be, since they allowed both Dr Lynn and Mystic Stefan to demonstrate there.’

  ‘They are not mediums, they are conjurors.’

  ‘I beg to differ. In any case,’ Hope smiled confidently, ‘I think I can persuade the committee to change their minds. It is my intention to bring the Misses Bland to the Pavilion, together with Mystic Stefan and the Wondrous Ajeeb. They and the spirit of Captain Pechell will create such a confluence of power that it w
ill no longer be denied! Right will prevail. It is only a matter of time.’

  He prepared to take his leave. ‘Mr Scarletti, I wish you well with your play, which promises to be the first of many successes. Perhaps when I have departed you and your sister might discuss what I have said and with a little thought I am sure you will reconsider your position. Miss Scarletti, I am sorry to press you, but I must have your decision very soon. Please let your solicitor have the statement in writing by tomorrow.’

  ‘Well,’ said Richard, when their visitor had left, ‘the Bland sisters, Mystic Stefan and the Wondrous Ajeeb, I should like to have tickets for that performance! It sounds like the playbill of a music hall. This business must be costing Mr Hope a pretty penny.’

  ‘He is undoubtedly paying Miss Eustace’s law costs, as well.’

  ‘Yet he says he takes no profit from his books or lectures. All goes to the fund to rescue Dr Livingstone. Is he very rich?’

  ‘You know who he is?’

  ‘Er — no.’

  ‘He prefers to go by plain “Mr” but he is actually Viscount Hope, owner of a substantial estate in Middlesex, and from what I have heard he is not one of those impoverished noblemen barely able to maintain appearances but a very wealthy man. His standing in society, his resources and his history, which cannot be denied, make him powerfully placed to overcome any opposition.’ Mina refreshed herself with some mineral water, though Richard looked as though he wanted something stronger and she could hardly blame him. ‘I am doing my best to fight him, but I don’t know how much longer I can go on. I am constantly under attack, first on behalf of Miss Eustace, then on behalf of the Misses Bland and next thing I will be asked to stand up in court and say that the Mystic Stefan is a medium and the Wondrous Ajeeb works through the power of the spirits.’ Mina had deliberately not told Richard what she suspected about Enid and dreaded the prospect that Mr Hope might use the potential for a damaging scandal to blackmail her. ‘Mr Phipps is trying to discover some weakness of Mr Hope’s with which we can arm ourselves.’

  ‘We all have weaknesses,’ argued Richard, fingering the cigar case once more. ‘Apart from mother who has none. I have a great many, I know, though I try not to let it worry me. Enid is vain, Edward is serious, you think too much, Mr Hope is gullible and Miss Eustace and her like are interested in nothing but money.’

  ‘In that case I really can’t see why Miss Eustace means to return to Brighton. She could never become rich here. Too many people remember her; she has a bad name. No one of any note would receive her and she certainly would not be allowed to hold a séance in the Pavilion.’

  ‘I agree. Once she is free, and whatever happens at the trial she will be sooner or later, she would be far better advised to avoid Brighton altogether and make a new start with new victims somewhere else.’

  ‘Then why come here? Whatever she is, Miss Eustace is not a fool.’

  Richard laughed. ‘No, if there is any fool, it is Mr Hope.’

  ‘So maybe she has another purpose, another target, perhaps one that Mr Hope does not know about. Oh of course!’ said Mina with a sudden gasp of realisation. ‘Why did I not see it! The real target is Mr Hope and his fortune. I have been too preoccupied with seeing him as the enemy to recognise that he is actually the victim. I am simply an instrument. He is the mark.’

  Richard mused on this. ‘I think you may be right. Of course, it would be useless to warn him.’

  ‘Poor Mr Hope, I almost feel sorry for him, he is such an easy dupe. She works on his sympathy, presents herself as the injured party and not a criminal, and he buys her the best lawyers in the land. Once she is freed she will leech off his generosity for life. That is her scheme. Well he will learn his lesson the hard way.’

  ‘If he ever learns it at all. But what do you mean to do?’

  Mina knew she had to take a gamble that however misguided Mr Hope might be he was not actually wicked, and if necessary she could appeal to his better nature to preserve Enid’s reputation. ‘I will be true to myself. Mr Hope will never have a statement from me.’

  Richard hugged her.

  Thirty-Five

  The following morning Mina received a note from Marcus Merridew stating that it might interest her to know that the Wondrous Ajeeb had arrived in Brighton and was currently in the process of being installed in the Pavilion where, at the express behest of Mr Hope, he would perform for a few days only. Mina, as Mr Merridew’s special guest, might like to come and enjoy a private viewing. Mina was eager to see the famed automaton and presented herself at the Pavilion without delay. Mr Merridew greeted her in exuberant style and conducted her to the room usually hired for meetings of the Brighton Chess Club, where the Wondrous Ajeeb was to hold court.

  As Mina was ushered into the room, leaning on Mr Merridew’s arm, an attendant, who was bustling about making all the arrangements, looked up in surprise. He was a tidy-looking man with a deft fussy manner, his glossy dark hair straight to the point of perfection, and combed back over his scalp as if painted on with a wide brush.

  ‘Mr Franklin,’ said Merridew, ‘I would like you to meet Miss Mina Scarletti, my very particular friend, who has come to satisfy her curiosity as to the Wondrous Ajeeb.’

  ‘Delighted, and you are very welcome,’ said Mr Franklin, who seemed from a change in expression to have made the assumption that Mina required this individual visit because she was too frail to mingle in a crowd. He stepped back so that she could enjoy a better view. The apartment was decorated in light green, and was less opulent than the other rooms of the Pavilion, quieter and more subtle. As a result the display stood out even more dramatically than it might have done in a more elaborate setting.

  A screen had been arranged at the back of the room and lavishly draped with multi-coloured oriental fabrics to form a suitably exotic backdrop to the figure of the Wondrous Ajeeb. ‘Is he not a great marvel?’ enthused Mr Franklin. ‘Have you ever seen the like?’

  ‘Never,’ said Mina. She did not ask if she might move closer, but did so, knowing that she would not be prevented. She had not expected such a large piece of machinery. The apparatus towered far above her head and must have been in all some ten feet in height. Its base was a square wooden cabinet mounted on castors, on top of which was an octagonal plinth covered in figured velvet in a rich shade of burgundy, beautifully fringed. There, sitting cross-legged upon a tasselled cushion, was the figure of Ajeeb, fully life-size, perhaps even greater. He was, to all appearances, a Turk, since his countenance, which bore a mild expression, suggesting wisdom and concentration, was burnished brown and his long beard was fashioned somewhat exotically in a double point. He wore wide silk scarlet trousers and soft slippers of the same shade, with vividly striped stockings and a loose chemise of pale blue, over which was a voluminous dark red coat. His turban and the brocade sash about his waist were gold. The hands and face looked as though they were made of carved painted wood, but the right hand, its fingers curled inwards, was hinged so that the thumb might be brought to the fingers to grasp objects.

  As Mina took in every detail of this extraordinary machine, Mr Franklin placed the other parts of the display in place. A hookah was positioned to the figure’s left and the tube with its mouthpiece put into the wooden hand. A pedestal with a circular top was placed to its right and on this rested a chessboard. On a side table was a basket of chess pieces, and another with draughts, while a third was filled with small white counters.

  Mina gazed up into the enigmatic face of the Wondrous Ajeeb and he, through heavily lidded eyes, appeared to be staring down at her. ‘I don’t suppose I could ask how he is operated?’ she asked. ‘I understand he is very adept at chess.’

  ‘Many people ask me that,’ smiled Mr Franklin, ‘but it is of course a great secret.’

  ‘Why surely there is a man hidden inside,’ exclaimed Merridew. ‘He must be underneath, in the cabinet.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Franklin, who, from his air had heard this suggestion many times. He
stepped up to the figure and opened a door in the front of the cabinet. Mina and Mr Merridew peered inside, and Merridew even got down on his knees for a closer look, but the interior was filled with a profusion of rods, cords, pulleys and wheels. There was no room for a human operator.

  ‘Then there is a man inside the figure itself,’ said Merridew, getting back to his feet. ‘It is large enough!’

  Franklin merely smiled again and showed that part of the chemise concealed a door in the figure’s chest. This he opened to reveal that inside the breast of the great Turk was still more machinery. Another door opened in the figure’s back and it was possible to see all the way through.

  Merridew took a tour about the figure, looking for some method by which a man might enter it. ‘Perhaps the man is not yet inside. Ah, I know, the old theatrical trick, a trapdoor, he comes in from below.’ He winked at Mina. ‘The Pavilion is full of surprises.’

  Mr Franklin, with some effort, moved the figure about on its castors, showing that the carpet below was entire. ‘As you see, there are no trapdoors. All that is needed is this.’ He took from his pocket a key of the kind used to wind up a very large clock. After returning the figure to its former position, and closing the doors in the cabinet and torso, he inserted the key into a keyhole that was hidden by the fringing of the plinth and proceeded to wind the mechanism, which made a loud grinding and clicking. ‘Do you play chess?’ he asked Mina.