Harriett (18 page)

“
Of course, you know, it is all stuff and nonsense,” Miss
Smethwick snorted. Unlike almost everyone else in the village, she
had offered no refreshments and it was far too early in the day for
cake and for that, Mark was very grateful.

“
What is?”

“
Communicating with dead people,” Miss Smethwick snapped with
a sigh. “I kept telling them to stop but nobody would listen to
me.”

“
Why did you go then? I mean, if you don’t believe in it, why
waste an entire evening listening to a clairvoyant attempt to talk
to dead people?” Mark reasoned and studied the flush in the woman’s
cheeks.

Having
her opinions questioned seemed to really irritate the old woman and
he couldn’t help but wonder why. She couldn’t be so arrogant as to
consider her opinions the be-all and end-all, could she?

“
I went to disprove the woman’s claims that she is able to
talk to anyone other than living people. This woman is a fraud and
a liar and I intend to prove it.”

Mark
shared a look with Isaac. “How do you intend to do
that?”

“
By going to each and every séance, and proving her to be the
fraud that she is,” Miss Smethwick sighed. “You must have read the
newspapers. Reports are all over them of people being conned out of
hundreds of pounds by fraudulent people who purport to be
communicating with the dead. Fools that they are, unsuspecting
victims have blindly handed over hundreds of pounds and received
what in return? Lies! That’s what they have received. Lies and
deceit! It’s got to be stopped, I tell you.”

Mark’s
gaze dropped to the woman’s small fist as it thumped the threadbare
arm of the chair with surprising force. He made a mental note of
the fire in the woman’s gaze that once again belied her age, and he
suddenly didn’t relish Madame Humphries’ crossing this woman’s
path.

“
So you went to discount her reliability?”

“
Of course I did. I wouldn’t be seen dead at one of those
things otherwise,” Miss Smethwick sniffed. “No pun
intended.”

Isaac
coughed. He hated to admit it but he was starting to warm to this
woman. She might be a little too vocal, but had fire and
determination and he could respect her opinions, even if he didn’t
agree with her methods.

“
Don’t you think it would be better to leave such matters to
the police? After all, the newspaper reports state that these
fraudsters are being arrested. We are doing our job, but we cannot
arrest people without evidence that they have actually committed
any crime. Unless you have got proof that these people are
fraudulent in their dealings, I really would urge you to be
careful, especially after what has happened to Minerva
Bobbington.”

“
You cannot seriously think that those messages actually mean
something, can you?” Miss Smethwick leaned forward in her chair.
Her small beady eyes moved from Mark to Isaac, back to Mark again
before she snorted and settled back in her chair. “Lord have mercy
on us, you do.” She shook her head as though unable to fathom the
logic. “If the spirits were communicating with us, surely they
would have known Minerva was about to die. Even they wouldn’t be so
stupid as to tell her that she was going to get a cat if she was
about to depart this mortal coil?”

Mark
could understand her logic and had echoed that very same opinion
only yesterday himself. “But you cannot ignore the death of Minerva
Bobbington. That’s what we are here about. We need to know if you
saw anything unusual that may give us any indication of who was
behaving suspiciously at the séance.”

“
You mean besides Madame Humphries and Miss Hepplethwaite?”
Miss Smethwick sighed and stood, clearly impatient for the
interview to come to an end.

Mark
shared a look with Isaac and they pushed to their feet. He wondered
why Miss Smethwick hadn’t enquired how Minerva had died. Everyone
else at the séance had so far. Was it because she knew something
about the cause of death already? The woman was clearly impatient
to get the men out of the house and didn’t seem to be nervous at
all, so why had she been hesitant upon answering the door? What did
she have to hide?

“
Everyone at that séance has been a part of this village for a
long time. Nothing like this has ever happened before. Don’t you
think that it is a little strange that Madame Humphries and Miss
Hepplethwaite turn up, give some messages of warning, and then one
long-standing member of the community turns up dead? I think,
Detective Inspector, that rather than pestering the good,
respectable citizens of this parish, you should focus your
investigation on the new arrivals. Now, unless there is anything
else you wish to discuss, I have nothing further to tell you.” Her
voice was clipped and held a hint of anger that was not lost on
either man. Mark wondered just what she had against clairvoyants,
and couldn’t help but wonder whether she had fallen foul of a
fraudulent psychic at some point.

At the
front door, Mark turned back to study the woman. “Tell me Miss
Smethwick, how long have you lived in the village?” Mark heard her
sudden intake of breath. If he hadn’t been so close, he would have
missed the panicked look that lit her eyes before she straightened
her shoulders and glared almost defiantly at him.

“
Most of my adult life, but I don’t see what that has got to
do with your investigation,” she reported crisply.

“
So, you consider yourself familiar with most, of not
everyone, in the village?”

“
As well as can be expected, yes.”

“
Have you heard any gossip of any fallings out?”

“
None that I am aware of, no.” She heaved an impatient sigh to
which Mark scowled and shared a knowing look with Isaac.

“
If there is anything you remember then please let us know.”
He didn’t wait for her confirmation. He was fairly certain that she
wouldn’t come to him with any information, even if she did remember
something that could help the investigation. His opinion was
confirmed as soon as they had stepped outside and the door slammed
behind them with sufficient force that the knocker rattled against
the wooden surface.

“
Whew. Nervous or defensive?” Isaac puffed out his cheeks and
studied the door for a moment.

“
Defensive, definitely.”

“
She was determined not to answer any questions, wasn’t
she?”

“
I think there is more to our Miss Smethwick than meets the
eye,” Mark replied with a frown. He wanted to go back inside and
make the woman answer his questions but knew it was futile against
someone so recalcitrant. She would object, argue and be rudely
offensive and, even if they could get information out of her, it
would undoubtedly have more to do with Hepplethwaite and Humphries
than anyone else at the table.

Isaac
lifted his brows at him and led the way back down the path toward
the main street.

“
Humphries or Hepplethwaite next?”

Mark
removed his pocket watch and studied the time. “Humphries next, I
think. We will leave Hepplethwaite until last.”

The
slightly vacant expression on Madame Humphries’ face when she
opened the door was enough to warn Mark that they would not get
anything useful out of this woman either. Whether she had seen them
approach, or just had a blank look on her face whenever she
answered her front door was anyone’s guess. There was something
slightly astute about her eyes thought that was at odds with the
fact that she had been ‘meditating’ as she called it.

“
Please come on through and take a seat, although how you feel
I can help you is anyone’s guess, I am sure of it,” Madame
Humphries sighed as she heaved her ample girth into a chair with a
grunt.

“
I want you to recount everything you can remember about the
night of the séance,” Mark replied and nodded to Isaac, who began
to make notes in his little black book.

“
I don’t remember much, you know. I was in trance most of the
time. The outside world just seems to fizzle out and, well, I am
busy with my spirit friends.”

“
But you were having a conversation with those around the
table, so you must have been aware that something unusual was
happening.” Mark left enough scepticism on his face to make it
clear to the woman that he didn’t believe her evasive tactics at
all and would not be fobbed off. “This is a murder investigation
and I would warn you that failing to co-operate with the police
will put you before a magistrate.” He felt a surge of satisfaction
as the initial flash of annoyance in her eyes was quickly replaced
with a cautious look.

“
I am not being evasive but what I do, by nature, takes me out
of the earthly realm. Although I am sort of aware of what is being
said around the table, the focus of my entire being is on the
spirits that gather around us. Contrary to popular belief, they are
not all that much different to us here on the earth plain. They
turn up in droves, most of the time desperate to get messages
across, and can come across as quite unruly you know. They call out
this and that and, unless they are put into some semblance of
order, can cause chaos and confusion. That is why I have my dear
Miss Hepplethwaite with me. She helps with things around the table
while my attention is focused on spirit.”

Mark
sighed. The fervency in her voice told him that she truly believed
what she was telling him. He had no reason to argue with her
reasoning because he had no idea whether she was telling the truth
or not. She believed what she was saying, but did that mean that it
was the truth, or a figment of her imagination? He decided to stick
to the facts, on the earth plain, rather than even start to touch
on the spiritual realm, and dug deep for his patience as he settled
back in the rather hard arm-chair.

“
I want you to tell me exactly what happened, as far as you
can remember, over that evening. Start at the very beginning and
don’t stop until you get to the moment you leave. Don’t go into
what you did with your spirit friends,” he added wryly. “We just
need to know about what the living were doing in the room that
night.”

As
Madame began to report what she considered important, Mark took the
opportunity to study the room. It was furnished in a rather
nondescript, mediocre fashion. The drapes were of a heavy material
and, from the thick layer of dust at the top, either hadn’t been
closed in some considerable time or the woman was never at home at
night and had a need to use them. The room was rather sparsely
furnished but, as a working clairvoyant, that was nothing untoward.
It just felt strangely odd, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.
The walls were whitewashed. The pictures on the wall were of
nondescript flowers and fruit baskets; there was even a countryside
scene or two. A jug of largely wilting flowers sat in the window
next to a scarred dining table and two chairs. There was nothing
unusual about the room in any way, but something gnawed at him
until he began to frown at the rag rug on the floor beneath his
feet. It just didn’t feel as though anybody lived there.

“
Tell me, do you do any other work besides spiritual?” Mark
studied her carefully.

“
No, I have worked as a clairvoyant all of my life. There have
been times when it has been very quiet and finances have been a bit
of a struggle, but my friends in the spirit world step in and help
me out.”

“
Have you ever worked in a cinema?”

“
A cinema?” Madame Humphries glanced hesitantly at Isaac, and
then turned a frown on Mark. “Why, no, I haven’t.”

Silence
settled over the room for several long moments while Mark stared at
her. Just when it began to grow uncomfortable, he sighed. “How
often do you work? I take it that the current trend in visiting
clairvoyants has helped bolster your coffers somewhat?” Mark
watched the woman shift uncomfortably and wondered whether he had
hit on a nerve.

“
I have a steady stream of people I work with in the area and
am out most nights, so I suppose that matters are a bit more
comfortable for now, yes.”

“
How long have you been living in Great Tipton?”

“
About a year now.”

“
Have you lived here throughout that year?”

Madame
Humphries sighed impatiently. “Yes, all of that time,” she snapped.
She clearly considered the matter irrelevant, or Mark was probing a
little too deeply, he wasn’t sure which. “Why? What does my
personal circumstance have to do with a death in Tipton
Hollow?”

“
We are merely gathering information about everyone, Madame
Humphries,” Mark sighed. “It gives us a clear picture of the people
who attended the séance. Tell me, where did you live before you
came to Great Tipton?”

A
pregnant silence settled between them. The clock on the mantle
ticked louder and louder until Mark wondered if she was going to
pretend she hadn’t heard him. Eventually, once her internal battle
had finished, she tutted and sighed. “Scotland. In a small town
just outside of Edinburgh: Macosh, do you know it?”

“
No, but give Isaac your address. I take it that there are
people in the area who can vouch that you lived there?”

“
Look, what is this? Why do you need that kind of
information?” Madame Humphries snapped, clearly distressed that
Mark wanted to look into her background. “I do hope you don’t
consider that I had anything to do with that woman’s murder,” she
scoffed in a dismissive manner that was in contrast to the slightly
panicked look on her face. “Do you?” She gulped weakly when neither
man moved to reassure her.