The Royal Ghost

by Linda Stratmann

  ‘Mr Mott, I hope you won’t be offended, but have you read An Encounter?’

  He blushed. ‘I – no – when I saw how upset my sister was I threw it on the fire.’

  ‘Without reading it?’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘Like you, I have never read the book, but I understand from those who have, that the vision seen by the sisters was supposed to have taken place on the very day that you describe, the one day that Dr Lynn and the great Ajeeb were both at the Pavilion.’

  ‘What can that mean?’ asked Mr Merridew.

  ‘I wish I knew. Mr Mott, please could you gather for me all the information at your disposal concerning what is planned to take place before the Mayor and aldermen, and then we will meet again.’

  Mina wrote to Mr Phipps to advise him of Mr Hope’s ultimatum, saying that she would not under any circumstances comply. He replied stating that he agreed with her position and was watching the case for her. He had attempted to obtain an appointment with Mr Hope to try and reach an amicable agreement, but that gentleman was currently too busy with the arrangements for the event to be held at the Pavilion to be able to attend. Mina realised to her relief that she had a short breathing space, but she knew she was in danger and would need every ounce of her limited strength for the battle to come.

  On her next visit to the baths she undertook her callisthenics class under the watchful supervision of Anna Hamid. Anna sensed a new, grimmer determination and had to quell Mina’s need to push her efforts too far into areas that would harm rather than develop her. ‘You are making good progress,’ she said, ‘but you must not go too fast. I can see that the muscles in your back and shoulders are offering improved support for your spine, and your arms are far stronger. The walking you do will also, with care, strengthen your limbs and reduce the strain of movement.’ As Mina rested from her efforts Anna explored with her fingers the areas of tension in her patient’s back. ‘You are very troubled, I can feel it. Is this still concerning Mr Hope and those dreadful women?’

  ‘Yes. I see I can hide nothing from you. I was recently permitted an interview with the Misses Bland, but it was very strange indeed, and Mr Hope sat and watched and interrupted if he thought my questions too searching. They performed a parlour trick with cards to try and convince me that they had the power to read minds. I am sure they could not have read my mind on that occasion, which held far from flattering thoughts, although I did make it clear that I was not converted to their cause. Throughout the interview only one of the sisters, the shorter of the two who calls herself Bertha, spoke for both of them. Miss Ada was heavily veiled and said nothing at all. If I could only conduct a private interview with her, I think I would learn a great deal.’

  Anna said nothing, but simply massaged Mina’s back.

  ‘Have you received an invitation to Mr Hope’s demonstration at the Pavilion tomorrow?’ Mina asked.

  ‘We have but we are not inclined to go.’

  ‘I would take it as a very great favour if you could both be present and observe the proceedings. I have not been invited and I fear that is no accident.’

  Anna paused. ‘Very well, I will speak to my brother about it.’

  ‘Only I think Mr Hope has some strange plans afoot.’

  ‘Strange in what way?’

  Mina sensed that much as Anna felt she wanted nothing to do with Mr Hope and his mystical demonstrations, some interest had been aroused. She explained her concerns about the proposed event, and as she did so a new idea emerged. Mr Hope was not the only person who could make strange plans.

  Once Mina was dressed and about to leave, Anna, after a struggle with her conscience, said, very quietly, ‘The elder Miss Bland has an appointment with me tomorrow morning at ten o’clock. My brother will be seeing patients all day and will not be in his private office when she departs, so you may sit there. I did not tell you this.’

  Thirty-Seven

  Next morning, and with the Pavilion event due to take place later that evening, Mina presented herself at the baths and settled herself comfortably in the ladies’ salon. Miss Ada Bland arrived for her appointment punctually at ten. Mina, partly hidden from her view in the depths of a large armchair, peeped out from behind a periodical and saw the distinctive figure pass quickly by. After that, it was just a matter of waiting. Mina, who had had another interview with Mr Mott only an hour before, had a great deal to think about. The all Sussex chess champion had been very diligent following their first meeting. Given his close involvement in the planned event, a certain amount of prying had not aroused any suspicion in either Mr Hope or Mystic Stefan. Mott had told Mina that he had overheard a conference between the two in which the conjuror had reassured his patron that he could sense that the spiritual forces were very powerful in the Pavilion, and promised to produce some remarkable manifestations. The one thing that they were both agreed upon very emphatically was that on no account must Mina be admitted. If she attempted to take a place amongst the company, she would be politely but firmly removed. If she caused a disturbance, however, then other arrangements would have to be made and she could well find herself placed under the care of doctors.

  Mina knew approximately how long Miss Bland’s appointment might take, and once it came near to the time, she listened for each creak of a door. Finally she was rewarded, went to the entrance of the salon, and, seeing her quarry, emerged to accost her in the corridor. There was an audible intake of breath as Miss Bland stopped, then tried to move around and past Mina.

  Fortunately the passage was narrow enough for Mina to be able to interpose her slight form in the lady’s path, trusting that she might be reluctant to push her over in her desperation to leave. ‘Miss Bland, please don’t be afraid of me. I only want to talk to you.’ Miss Bland paused for a moment, then turned her thickly veiled face away and shook her head. Once again, she made to try and move on, but Mina quickly reached out and took her by the wrist. There was a slight gasp of surprise from behind the veil. Slim little fingers used to wielding dumbbells made for a sharp grip.

  ‘We must speak. I insist on it. For both our sakes. Let us not fight each other. There is a private room here. We will not be overheard or interrupted. Please.’ Firm and insistent, Mina drew Miss Bland to Dr Hamid’s office. The lady was reluctant, but as another patient appeared in the corridor, she capitulated rather than make a scene. They both entered the office and were seated facing each other uncomfortably across the desk.

  ‘I do hope that we can be open and completely truthful with each other,’ Mina began. ‘I do not know what it is that afflicts you, but all the same I think we two might understand each other better than most. I cannot and do not attempt to hide what I am, neither do I conceal myself from the world. My life is a good one and I am my own woman. I speak my mind; I do not allow others to speak it for me.’

  Miss Bland uttered a miserable sigh. ‘It is … hard for me to speak,’ she said in a slurred breathy whisper.

  ‘For both of us, each day is one of testing and tribulation, but we must meet it and make the best of it.’

  ‘Your body is your burden. Mine … is different.’ Miss Bland paused. ‘I would not show this to everyone.’ Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her veil.

  One side of her face was almost no face at all. It was without shape and the surface was scarred, furrowed and reddened. Tight folds of flesh hung over one eye so that she could barely see through it, the nose was flattened and twisted cords of skin pulled at one side of her mouth, further distorting her appearance. The other side was quite normal and not unattractive. ‘I was a child when it happened,’ she said with an effort, through tightened, constricted lips. ‘I fainted and fell with my face against a hot stove. I was burned almost to the bone. I nearly died. Sometimes I wish I had.’

  ‘My spine is twisted,’ said Mina, ‘pulled first one way and then the other. It reduces me to the size and shape you see. Too much movement can pain me. I live with the danger that my own skeleton may one day crush my
heart and lungs. I will probably not have a long life. I will never marry or bear children. But we must both of us make what we can of our lives. There are respectable paths of fulfilment. I beg you, do not seek it by condoning a lie!’

  The good side of the damaged mouth rose in a travesty of a smile. ‘Then I am more fortunate than you. I am fulfilled in ways you can never be. I am married. And there is no reason why, God willing, I cannot in time become a mother.’

  Mina found it impossible to hide her surprise at this revelation. ‘My congratulations,’ said Mina at last. ‘I had been given to understand that you and your sister led very retiring lives. Who is your husband? How did you meet him?’

  ‘He is – a man of business – a customer of my father’s.’

  Mina recalled what she had been told of the Bland sisters’ father, information she was not supposed to know, and also what had been printed in An Encounter. ‘Oh? That is a strange way of putting it. According to your infamous book your father is a clergyman. Clergymen do not, as a rule, have customers. But I have heard it rumoured that your father is an undertaker and cabinet maker. Is that true?’

  Miss Bland was aware that she had made a slip. ‘It is,’ she said defensively. ‘We were obliged to provide a nom de plume and a false history in order to preserve our anonymity.’

  ‘And also provide your efforts with a gloss of respectability. How long have you been married?’

  ‘Just three months, but he has been courting me these two years. Oh, I assure you, nothing has been hidden from him. He has seen past the veil and he does not recoil. He is young – handsome – he finds beauty in my soul. He kisses my hands.’ She raised her hands, which were very white, like those of a marble statue. She wore dainty lace mittens and the fingers that peeped from them were long, slender and delicate. In a life dominated by her disfigurement, Miss Ada Bland was clearly very proud of her sole claim to womanly beauty. Seeing Mina’s fascinated glance she performed a kind of ballet with the arms, which curved like the necks of two swans in a tender embrace.

  Mina was powerfully reminded of another arm she had seen, one equally as white and graceful. ‘Was it you – the disembodied hand at the Pavilion? Of course! I see it now. Your sister was there in the audience, but you were not because you were assisting the conjuror! And – Mystic Stefan, or whatever his real name is – is he your husband?’

  The-one sided smile again, and a soft throaty laugh. ‘I will not deny it.’

  ‘And now I think I understand the connection. It is not the undertaker’s but the cabinet maker’s services he employs. Is part of your father’s business the construction of the kind of special cabinets used by stage magicians? Like the one the Davenport brothers take on their travels?’

  Miss Bland said nothing but she didn’t need to.

  Mina thought again. The father of both Miss Eustace and her acolyte the dreadful Mr Clee was in the business of supplying equipment for the stage. There were few enough businesses of that kind in London. Were the Misses Bland a part of the Clee family or friends with them? ‘Is your father a Mr Benjamin Clee or a relative of his?’ Mina demanded. ‘Is Mr James Clee your brother or cousin?’

  Miss Bland was undeniably shocked. ‘No, he is – no!’

  ‘But you know him, do you not?’

  Miss Bland was silent, but she put her veil back in place and rose to her feet. ‘That is enough. I regret that I agreed to this.’

  ‘I have never met Mr Benjamin Clee, who may be a perfectly respectable gentleman for all I know, but I have encountered his son, who is an unmitigated scoundrel.’

  Miss Bland was about to make for the door but turned back to face Mina with a little gasp of anger. ‘That is not true! How dare you!’

  ‘Then what is he to you that you defend him?’

  Miss Bland did not reply but the fingertips of her right hand touched the knuckle of her left. From under the lace there was the thin soft gleam of a ring.

  ‘Heaven help you woman, do not say that he is your husband!’ Mina paused. ‘But no, that can’t be so – James Clee cannot be masquerading as Mystic Stefan, he is in prison awaiting trial. Unless of course he can fly through walls like Mrs Guppy. That is just as well for you, for had you married him you would still be single and he a bigamist.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Miss Bland faintly.

  ‘Mr Clee made a scandalous marriage here last June.’

  ‘June?’ There was a long silence. ‘You are lying to me.’

  ‘Why would I do such a thing? If you don’t believe me you have only to go to the Town Hall and see the evidence for yourself.’

  ‘But …’ Miss Bland suddenly sat down again, rather more heavily than she had done before.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you … certain of it?’

  ‘Quite certain. They parted soon afterwards under circumstances that were reported in the newspapers. You can check that for yourself, too. There has not been time for him to regain his freedom to marry again.’

  Miss Bland uttered a sob. She took a handkerchief from her reticule and applied it under the veil.

  Mina took pity on her, poured a glass of the restorative water from the supply that Dr Hamid always had to hand and limped around the desk, proffering it to the unhappy woman. Gradually, in small sips then great anguished gulps, the liquid disappeared. Mina removed the empty glass and took Ada’s hand in her own. ‘Tell me the truth, please. I am very much afraid that you and your sister have been led astray by a criminal.’

  It was some time before Miss Bland could speak. ‘He did say at first that there was an obstacle to our marrying, but when I insisted, he said that he thought he could remove it, and only a day later he told me that by some quirk in the law he was free and we could be united.’ She wiped her face with an increasingly damp handkerchief. ‘Very well, I will tell you all, but if you have lied to me, Mr Hope will hear of it.’

  ‘Mr Hope will hear of this very soon in any case.’ There was a crucifix on the wall behind Dr Hamid’s chair and Mina crossed the room to place her hand on it. ‘I swear by all that is most holy that I am telling you the truth.’

  Ada nodded. ‘My husband is Mr James Clee. After his arrest last summer he was refused bail, but I begged my father to stand surety for him. He applied again and this time it was granted.’

  Mina understood. ‘And somehow that later hearing was never reported in the newspapers, so I wasn’t aware of his release. When were you married?’

  ‘July,’ she sighed.

  ‘Oh dear. So Mr Clee, who we all thought was safely in gaol, has been a free man these three months.’

  ‘But he does love me!’ Miss Bland insisted. ‘He has been true to me! If he parted from that other woman, he cannot love her at all.’

  ‘I am quite sure he does not,’ said Mina, a comment that the unhappy Miss Bland appeared to find comforting. ‘I suppose – I don’t mean to be cruel – but before your marriage you had money of your own?’

  ‘Some, but not a very great fortune as you seem to imagine. Of course it is now his, as a husband’s right – except – he may not be my husband at all, and I —’ she sobbed again.

  Mina gave her some time to recover. ‘Miss Bland – who wrote An Encounter? It wasn’t you or your sister. Was it Mr Clee?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. James brought us the manuscript. He didn’t say who had written it, but it wasn’t in his hand, only he said he needed it printed to make some money. What with the fraud case the family had a lot of expenses and a stop had been placed on their finances, which were assumed to be the profits of crime and which might have to be restored. Many of their possessions were in the hands of the police to be used in evidence at the trial. So my sister and I agreed to act for him. He wanted to borrow the money from me to pay for the work but I put my foot down. I said he could have the money not as a creditor but as the rightful property of a husband. And so we were married. After all, as a wife I would have the benefit of his protection.’ She s
hook her head in disbelief. ‘I feel sure that there has been some mistake! Perhaps he has been led astray by others. James is no criminal; he has always sought to earn a living by legitimate means. The book and the conjuring are not his only business ventures.’

  ‘Really?’ queried Mina trying to keep the frank scepticism from her voice. ‘What other businesses does he have?’

  ‘He is in the export trade. And before you ask, he needed no funds from me to launch it. I suppose he used the profits from the book. In the last weeks it has been very lucrative, far more so than his other businesses, it brings in a great deal of money.’

  ‘You surprise me. What is the name of this business? Where is his office?

  ‘I – don’t know. I don’t really trouble myself with matters of commerce. That is his affair.’

  ‘Has he visited his office in all the time he has been in Brighton?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘What does he export?’

  ‘All manner of things.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘I don’t know – or at least – I did ask him once and he said he mainly sends goods to Africa only I don’t know if that was really the case or just his joke.’

  ‘I think it was a joke,’ said Mina, ‘and I can guess who the butt of it was. I suppose he ordered you to have nothing to do with me?’

  ‘Yes, and I can see why.’ Her voice trembled and she applied the handkerchief to her face again. ‘I can’t help thinking that this is all a mistake. Perhaps James really thought he was free to marry me. The law is such a strange thing. Perhaps once he is properly free we can be married in church. I must see him.’ She rose to leave.