The carriage stopped in front of a group of lavish row houses, large two-story homes whose sides kissed. They were a little like the brownstones of New York, but the class was an upper not a lower.
Simon opened the door and helped Elizabeth out. 815 Ashbury. That’s where Simon’s contacts had said Madame Petrovka lived.
They walked up the steps to the portico and Simon rang the bell. A few seconds later Mr. Stryker, his craggy face as implacable as ever, opened the door.
“We’d like to see Madame Petrovka,” Simon said.
Mr. Stryker gave them a small, hollow smile before stepping aside and letting them in. He asked them to wait in the parlor.
A few minutes later Madame Petrovka joined them. “I am not available for appointments today, but if you’d like to make arrangements with Mr. Stryker…”
“We’d like to talk to you about what happened at the Graham’s,” Simon said.
Madame Petrovka nodded and clasped her hands. “It was unusual. I cannot guarantee such—”
Simon grunted.
“A disbeliever. Yes, I sensed that the other evening,” she said as she took a seat.
“Sensed it, did you?” Simon said and then cocked his head to the side. “Do you always drug your sitters?”
She shrugged. “The incense helps them relax. Some need it more than others.”
Elizabeth knew she’d better jump in quickly before Simon got them kicked out. “It was amazing. And disturbing. What exactly happened?”
Madame Petrovka smiled. There was nothing ominous about the smile. It appeared completely genuine and yet it made Elizabeth shiver.
“Yes, wasn’t it?” Madame Petrovka said. “Such a tragedy, losing a child like that.”
Elizabeth could feel Simon winding up for a good one. “I felt something that night,” she said quickly hoping to keep him from erupting. “I’m not sure how to describe it.”
“Did you? You must be sensitive to the spiritual vibrations.”
Elizabeth took Simon’s hand in a silent appeal to play along. “What was it?”
“What did it feel like, my dear?”
Elizabeth knew this was a typical tactic by fraudulent mediums. She was doing all the talking, providing all the information and Madame Petrovka would keep providing the carrot as long Elizabeth was willing to play along. For now, she was. “Cold, very cold and…”
“Evil?”
Simon made another noise.
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth admitted. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Of course you were.” Madame Petrovka poured herself a cup of tea. “When a person dies their spirit begins a new journey through the realms to peace. Depending on how they lived their lives, spirits find themselves on different levels of ascendance. Sometimes, when a death is violent or life is filled with unresolved issues, the spirit can lose their way. Dear Violet is lost. Lost in a place with other souls that are tormented. It would be a horrible and frightening place for a child.”
That made a disturbing sort of sense, even if Elizabeth didn’t want it to. “And that other presence? Some sort of tortured soul or demon.”
“Possibly.”
“And I suppose for a price you’ll help little Violet find peace,” Simon said not bothering to hide his disdain.
“Simon—”
Madame Petrovka raised a hand. “It’s quite all right. I’m used to it. Yes and no, Sir Simon. Yes, I do hope to help Violet find her way to the next realm and no, there is no price. She’d been abandoned. By the people she thought loved her,” she said, the tenor of her voice and body language changing, tensing. “She was betrayed by them.”
“Betrayed?” Elizabeth asked. Someone had lost the plot and she was pretty sure it wasn’t her. From what she knew about the Grahams, they would never do anything to hurt their child. They loved Violet to distraction.
Madame Petrovka relaxed. “Perhaps I spoke too strongly. The child’s spirit is quite powerful.”
“And you’re not taking any money from the Grahams for all of your…assistance?” Simon asked.
“Not a brass farthing, Sir Simon.”
The room was chilly, but it wasn’t anything supernatural.
Simon reached into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out the pocket watch. “We won’t take up anymore of your time.”
It was funny, Elizabeth hadn’t even realized that the watch worked as a watch. She was about to say her goodbyes when she noticed that Madame Petrovka was staring intently at some nebulous spot on the wall. Elizabeth didn’t see anything there and for a moment, Elizabeth thought the woman had fallen into a trance. Her eyes glassed over and she seemed almost to be in a fugue state. “Madame Petrovka?”
The woman took a deep breath. “My time. Yes. Time.” She came back to herself and took a cleansing breath. “I do have appointments. If you’ll see yourself out.”
She almost hurried to the door, but turned back and smiled like the Cheshire Cat. “I’m so very glad you came.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was her turn to watch. Elizabeth lay on her side; head propped up on her elbow and watched Simon sleep. She knew he often watched her as she slept. He said it was better than tea. From Simon, that was high praise.
How he could sleep at a time like this though, she had no idea. Tomorrow was Easter Sunday and unless she stopped whoever was after Victor Graham, everything she cared about would cease to be. As if he’d heard her, Simon gave a small snore and rolled his head to the side as he continued his blissful night’s sleep. Amazing.
Was this what it felt like for Simon all those nights in New York? He’d had prescient nightmares of her death nearly every night. She’d been disturbed by them; who wouldn’t, but she didn’t really understand how he felt. Until now.
Their fight about her new job and her crappy car didn’t just seem insignificant; they felt a lifetime away. In a way they were. What was it about traveling back in time that seemed to give them a fresh start? In New York it had given them a chance to fall in love and here, a chance to stay that way.
She rolled onto her back and tried to calm the torrent of possibilities that flooded her mind. There were just too many what ifs. How could she possibly protect Graham from all of them?
She kissed Simon’s cheek, eased out of bed and pulled on her robe and slippers. Sleep wasn’t going to come. Only two things helped and she and Simon had already tried the first. The second wasn’t as surefire a method, but it was worth trying.
She picked up a candleholder and carefully made her way into the hall. She struck the match and lit the candle, but it wouldn’t last long. It had nearly guttered out. She made her way downstairs protecting the flame as best she could.
The kitchen was bigger than she thought. As she moved to set her candle down and light the gas lamp when her candle gave up and the flame snuffed itself out. There were only a few windows in the kitchen and she had no idea where the matches were.
“Crud.”
She was feeling her way along the edge of the table when the crack and sizzle of a match being lit broke the silence and a flickering light grew behind her.
“Trouble sleeping?”
Gerald, clad in his nightshirt, robe, slippers and nightcap looked like something straight out of A Christmas Carol. He held out the candle out between them.
“Lot on my mind,” she said. “You?”
“I’m old.”
She laughed and he lit the gas lamp and soon the room glowed with a yellow warmth. Elizabeth walked over to one of the cabinets and opened it. “Got anything to eat in this place?”
She opened a few more cabinets before Gerald stopped her. “Sit down. You’ll just make a mess of things and I’m the one who’ll have hell to pay with cook when she gets back. Just put that down and leave it to me.”
He tossed his nightcap aside, took the can of kidney beans out of her hands and put it back in the cabinet. “I think we have some eggs,” he said. “You can cut some bread for toast if you’d like.”
He opened the icebox and pulled out a bowl of eggs, a bottle of milk and an ornate butter tray. “He still here?”
“Simon? Yes.”
Gerald grunted, but no lecture followed.
Earlier that night, Elizabeth had pulled up her big girl panties and gone to see Mrs. Eldridge about Simon. She’d hemmed and hawed, as embarrassed as a teenager when Mrs. Eldridge had lowered her pince-nez and said, “I may be old, dear, but I’m not blind. I do remember what it feels like to be madly in love, you know. Life’s far too short.”
She’d said that she would ask Jane to make up a room for him for propriety’s sake. She’d even promised to handle Gerald. And, judging from his response, or lack of one, she’d done just that.
Gerald bent down to revive the fire in the huge cast iron stove.
“Why do you hate him so much?”
He pushed some paper and kindling into the firebox and jabbed at the wood, forcing the flames to life.
“It’s not him so much as…the English.”
“All of them?”
“No,” he said, “But when you’ve seen them do what I saw.”
“Your leg?”
“That and more. I was good with a gun and twenty-two when the war started. My father and my uncles had all fought in the revolution and I saw my chance for glory.”
“What revolution?”
He looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “For independence.”
“That was over a hundred years ago.”
“Are you going to keep interrupting or let me tell it?”
“I’m sorry.” She really never would get used to things like this.
“It was 1813. The War of 1812. I don’t suppose they teach about that when you come from?”
Elizabeth didn’t mention the only thing she knew about the War of 1812 was a kitschy song from the fifties her father used to sing. It was a sobering thought that virtually an entire war had been swallowed by history. What else didn’t they teach anymore?
“They came in the middle of the night,” Gerald continued as he cooked. “Going to stick us with bayonets while we slept, but we gave them hell. Right in the middle of it, this man appears out of thin air. Magic. Everyone stopped, even the Brits.”
He seemed lost in the memory for a moment before continuing. “But that didn’t last long. One of them was about to shoot him in the back. That’s how it was. I pulled him out of the way, stuck him behind a tree. I managed to shoot a few of them before I got my leg blown off a few minutes later.”
Unconsciously, he rubbed the top of his thigh. “The last thing I remembered was the man looking down at me. They say I had fever for a week and when I finally woke up, I was here. Upstairs in this very house.”
He plated the eggs and sat down.
“Mr. Eldridge was the man,” Elizabeth said, knowing it was true.
“That was thirty years ago and I’ve been here ever since.”
“Wow.” Elizabeth tasted her eggs. “Good.”
He raised his fork in salute.
She took another bite and discovered she really was hungry. “Thirty years. That’s a long time to hold a grudge.”
He eyed her carefully and smiled. “I have issues.”
She laughed and after a few more bites, her egg was gone.
“Sleepy?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Me neither,” he admitted.
She really wasn’t tired at all now. So much for Plan B. She rubbed the surface of the table, lost in thought, when she remembered that she had the perfect solution to sleepless nights. “You play cards, Gerald?”
“I’ve been known to.”
“Any good?”
“Better than you, I’ll wager.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I’ll take that bet.”
***
They’d played for an hour before both headed back to bed. Sleep finally came for Elizabeth, but it was filled with haunting, disquieting dreams. The only comfort was waking up in Simon’s arms.
After a quick breakfast they took Mrs. Eldridge’s carriage to Simon’s hotel so he could put on a fresh shirt and check in with his network of spies. Simon ran the entire thing with Machiavellian precision and a generous wallet. Anyone who learned anything useful reported back to the hotel concierge who, in turn, reported to Simon.
They picked up on Graham’s trail as he left Easter services at the First Presbyterian Church. According to a valet at the Prescott mansion, the Grahams were scheduled to attend a lawn party there that afternoon, but their carriage traveled straight back to their house on Nob Hill.
Simon instructed their coachman to park across the street from the Graham’s house, not so close as to draw suspicion, but close enough that they could see any comings and goings. They both settled in for a long wait.
They’d debated telling Graham that he was in danger, but without any proof at all it would have sounded slightly insane. They couldn’t exactly tell him the truth either. Elizabeth had even suggested that they kidnap him and try to keep him safe that way, but Simon had pointed out that they had no idea how he was killed or by whom. It was possible that their actions might even increase the danger to him. All they could do was watch and wait. And be ready to act when the moment came.
Elizabeth felt the carriage sway as the coachman climbed down from his seat. He brought a large wicker basket around that must have been stored in the rear compartment.
Simon took the basket and put it on the opposite seat. “Thank you, William.”
When had he learned the coachman’s name? And why hadn’t she bothered to do the same?
Simon pulled the window shades down leaving just a sliver at the bottom to see through.
“What’s this?” she asked, pointing at the large briefcase shaped basket.
“There’s no telling how long we’ll be here and it’s best we’re prepared for the duration.”
He opened the basket to reveal bread, cheese, fruit, plates and utensils, even a thermos of something.
The hours passed with no movement in or out of the Graham’s house. Simon stretched out his legs and propped them up next to the nearly empty basket on the far seat. He put his arm around Elizabeth and his long fingers brushed up and down her arm. It was strangely peaceful and Elizabeth felt herself melting into Simon’s side. As far as stakeouts went, this wasn’t so bad.
“What are you two doing here?”
Elizabeth and Simon jumped.
Teddy’s face appeared in the window, his head ducking under the shade.
“Great googley moogley!” Elizabeth cried. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. He crammed his hand through the window and offered her his brown paper sack. “Peanut?”
“Teddy, please go home,” Simon said.
Teddy pulled his arm back and pushed his head back into the cab. “Are you trying to be secret?”
“Yes, we are. So if you’d…”
“I have secrets,” he said.
“Good,” Simon said as though he were speaking to a small child. “Now, be a good chap and run along.”
“I’ve been working on something, but things keep exploding.”
“We’d love to hear about that,” Elizabeth said as she tried to look past him to see if their cover had been blown. “But later.”
Having Teddy hang off the side of their supposedly empty carriage wasn’t exactly inconspicuous. “We’ll come by later and see, all right?”
Teddy nodded. “Shhh,” he whispered as he slipped out from under the shade and continued down the street.
Elizabeth fell back against her seat and shook her head.
“More of your magnetic personality at work?” Simon said. “I swear that you collect odd people the way some collect porcelain cats.”
“It could be worse,” she said.
Simon peaked under the shade to make sure Teddy had actually left. “How?”
“
I could collect porcelain cats.”
***
The afternoon turned into evening and evening into night. As the darkness came Elizabeth grew more anxious with every passing minute. She was exhausted and keyed up at the same time. It made her feel slightly queasy.
“What if it’s already happened?” she said, “and we don’t know.”
“Then I wouldn’t be here, would I?”
Elizabeth frowned. She hated the matter of fact way he said it.
“I’m sorry,” he continued. “I know you’re worried for me and I love you for it, but if I do…cease to be, you won’t know to miss me, will you?”
“I’d know,” she said almost angrily. “No matter what changed, I’d know.”
He looked a little chagrined at that and brushed his knuckles along her jaw. “I believe you would.”
“You haven’t cornered the market on truly, madly, deeply, ya know? I do actually love you as much as you love me. You’re not the only crazy person here.”
He laughed and kissed her. “No indeed.”
After another minute dragged by, she sat forward. “I can’t just sit here anymore. I can’t. I have to know what’s going on in there.”
She opened the carriage door and Simon put a hand on her arm. “All right,” he said, pulling her back so he could exit first and help her out.
They walked over to the Graham’s and rang the bell. After a moment, the maid answered.
“We’re here to see Mr. and Mrs. Graham,” Simon said.
The maid nodded and closed the door most of the way. They could hear voices inside and then Mary Graham appeared at the door. If it was possible, she looked even paler than she had before. “This isn’t a good time.”
“Are you all right?” Elizabeth tried to see inside. “Where’s Mr. Graham?”
Mary pulled the door until it was barely a foot open. She was nervous and upset. “Victor’s not feeling well.”
“We’ll send for a doctor. Perhaps we can help,” Elizabeth said as she tried to ease the door open again. “Let us help you, Mary.”
Mary looked like she was about to let them in when the door swung open and Victor Graham stared at them wild eyed. “You’re not welcome here.”
Out of Time Series Omnibus (Out of Time: A Paranormal Romance & When the Walls Fell) Page 45
