Harriett (24 page)

“
Well, I think that we should carry on and see what we get,”
Miss Haversham suggested. “I mean, I knew Hugo well. He would want
us to carry on regardless. If it was any of us who had passed away,
he would have been the first one to suggest the meeting go ahead as
planned.”

“
I agree,” Mrs Dalrymple sighed. “It just feels more than a
little disrespectful to have another meeting so soon.”

“
What does everybody want to do?” Beatrice queried in a voice
that was as solemn as the look on her face.

“
I think that we need to have a show of hands to vote on
whether to carry on or not,” Constance sighed. She glanced at Mark.
“Why did you want everyone to gather here before you told us? I
mean, why not leave us at home and tell us there?”

“
I don’t want any of you to talk about this to all and sundry
in the village. This is a police investigation and, although I
accept that the news will break at some point, especially when
Hugo’s shop doesn’t open in the morning, I would prefer to get a
bit of a head start on the gossips. Out of respect for Hugo, I
think that you all needed to decide together whether it is wise, or
appropriate, to continue with the Psychic Circle at all. I mean,
there have been two deaths, both under suspicious circumstances.
There has been a threat to a person, or persons, with the letter
‘H’ in their first or surname. Any one of you could still be under
threat. I would ask you all to consider the additional steps you
could put into place to keep yourselves safe until we catch the
person, or persons, responsible.”

“
You mean that there may be more than one person who is the
killer?”

Mark
nodded. “The killer could be anyone.” He glanced at each person in
turn. “I cannot remove anyone from the list of suspects.” His gaze
landed pointedly on the clairvoyant and her assistant. “I am sure
that Madame Humphries, and her spirit friends, will understand if
you decide to call the evening off.”

“
Of course, Detective. Under the circumstances, the spirits
would more than understand,” the woman soothed.

“
Alright, I think those who want to carry on with tonight’s
meeting should put their hands up,” Babette suggested and lifted
her hand.

Silence
reigned for a moment before Harriett, Henrietta and Mark all put
their hands up. These were joined by Tuppence, Constance, Beatrice
and Eloisa. She watched Miss Smethwick study everyone for a moment
before she crossed her arms in a defiant pose. Miss Haversham
merely sniffed at her and put her hand up to join the others. Mrs
Dalrymple sighed and lifted her hand hesitantly into the
air.

“
That takes it then.” She glanced at Mr Bentwhistle, who
merely stared down into the carpet. “Those who don’t wish to stay
are welcome to remain and can watch if they don’t feel comfortable
taking part, or they can, of course, go home. Either way, I am sure
that I speak for everyone when I say that I understand their
sentiments exactly and harbour no ill feeling toward them for their
reluctance.”

“
I think that we owe it to Hugo to see if we get anything
else. Whoever those messages came from may want to give us
something else.”

“
Before we begin, I propose a toast to our good friends Hugo
and Minerva,” Mr Bentwhistle offered quietly. He lifted his gaze to
the ceiling and raised his glass in a silent toast. The soft murmur
of ‘Minerva and Hugo’ was echoed around the room as the group sat
for a few moments in quiet contemplation.

“
Right, I think that we should carry on with the evening
then,” Mark suggested. He glanced at Harriett and offered her a
smile. The low murmur of voices grew steadily louder as people
struck up conversations with those around them.

“
Do you know what killed him yet?” Harriett whispered. Mark
could smell the faint scent of lavender that teased his nose as he
dipped his head closer to whisper in her ear.

“
It was definitely cyanide. Someone put it into his tea. We
don’t know how yet. A further search of the store has revealed
nothing, so we can only assume that someone slipped it into his tea
when it was in his cup and he wasn’t looking.” Mark gave her a
warning look. “You will be fine tonight but, from now on, sniff
your drinks. If it smells like almonds, don’t touch it. Don’t throw
it away, give it to me.”

“
Almonds?” Harriett frowned at him and studied her drink
dubiously. She had already taken a sip and not fallen into a heap
on the floor so she was fairly certain she was safe for now,
especially given that they were in Beatrice’s house and she was by
far the most pernickety housekeeper in Tipton Hollow.

“
The distinctive scent of cyanide,” Mark whispered. He wasn’t
comfortable discussing the case in the presence of so many people.
Although others were chatting, which added to the noise of the
room, Hugo’s death was still a murder investigation and it was
never wise for those who were involved to know too much. Still,
this was Harriett. She was in as much danger as everyone else. If
she was forewarned what had happened to the others, she may be a
little bit more vigilant in keeping herself out of harm’s
way.

Harriett
felt faintly sick as she glanced around at the sea of familiar
faces. Just the thought that someone here could be so heartlessly
cold blooded gave her the chills. She considered each and every
person a friend to varying degrees. Well, not everyone, but all of
those in the Psychic Circle were of an acquaintance; people whom
she shared a village with, whom she spoke to on a daily basis, and
had often served in her tea shop.

“
What are you two whispering about?” Henrietta demanded with a
smile. The room drew quiet and Harriett felt her cheeks burn with
embarrassment as she realised that she was almost cheek to cheek
with the only eligible bachelor present.

“
Work,” Mark sighed. “I was updating Harriett on something,
that’s all.” He gave his mother a stern look that warned her that
she wasn’t to push for more information.

Although
Henrietta didn’t know the finer details of the work Mark did, she
knew enough about the murders in Tipton Hollow to attribute the
pale cheeks and dark shadows beneath the eyes of the beautiful
young lady seated beside her son to know that they were indeed
talking about work, not pleasure. Henrietta heaved a despondent
sigh and studied the couple as they sat together. They made the
most handsome pairing, it was a shame that he was still sniffing
around that awful Alice Mainwaring.

“
Right, I am ready now if everyone would like to move to the
table?” Madame Humphries called.

Mark
dutifully pushed to his feet and escorted Harriett to a chair at
the table. Most of the other occupants of the room had to bring
their chairs with them. It was a squeeze to fit thirteen people
around the small rectangle meant for no more than six diners but,
with a little bit of shuffling, everyone was soon able to sit
reasonably comfortably and rest their fingers on the glass that sat
in the middle of the circle of squares that had letters of the
alphabet written on them.

While
everyone got themselves comfortable, Mark studied the table. Madame
Humphries was seated at the head, while Miss Hepplethwaite remained
on her feet behind her. Next to her was Mr Bentwhistle, who was
seated next to Mark. Determined to sit and guard Harriett
throughout the entire evening, Mark had manoeuvred himself into the
chair directly beside her, with Henrietta, his mother, on her other
side. Babette sat between Henrietta and Tuppence. Constance,
Beatrice, Eloisa, Miss Haversham, Miss Smethwick and Mrs Dalrymple
made up the rest of the table.

His eyes
flew to Harriett when he felt her shiver and he watched her pull
her shawl tighter around her shoulders. Her eyes were locked on the
glass and she had a look of fear in her eyes that made him very
angry.

“
You will be alright, you know,” Mark murmured gently. He
tucked her shawl higher on her shoulder and tipped his head down
until her eyes met and held his. He offered her a smile of
reassurance. “It’s not going to be like last time.”

“
I know. It is silly of me really.”

“
Perfectly understandable after the last farce we attended,”
Miss Smethwick retorted darkly and threw a dirty look at Madame
Humphries that completely sailed past her. In stark contrast to the
glower she threw at the clairvoyant, she smiled kindly at
Harriett.

Harriett
smiled back, strangely emboldened by the moral support of everyone
around the table.

“
Heaven’s, Harriett, I don’t mind admitting that I think I
would prefer a bout of influenza rather than attending this séance
here tonight, but I think we owe it to Minerva and Hugo to have
this meeting and find out what we can about those silly threats,”
Constance sighed.

“
Exactly,” Mrs Dalrymple added with a firm nod of her head.
“We shall be having no silly threats tonight, so let’s get on with
it.”

Harriett
offered her a smile that wavered ever such a little bit, and felt
the familiar sting of tears that she hurriedly blinked
away.

Henrietta looked at her son’s face and saw clear adoration in
the steady gaze that seemed to watch Harriett’s every move. He
studied her with far too much familiarity than was normal, or wise,
if one didn’t want to be on the receiving end of gossip, but didn’t
seem to care very much. However, Henrietta knew her son and, unless
she was very much mistaken, he was besotted with the woman seated
by his side. It wasn’t lost on her that he had manoeuvred everyone
around so that he could place himself firmly at the young lady’s
side. Like a dog with a bone, he simply refused to be parted from
her, even if it was only to sit a couple of seats away. It reminded
her of her own dear husband’s attentiveness when they first got
together. She glanced at Babette, who was also studying the young
couple with more curiosity than concern. They shared a
conspiratorial smile and turned their attention back to the
table.

“
Now, everyone put your fingers on the glass please. We shall
all say the Lord’s Prayer and then I shall ask for the protection
to be put into place for us all. Now, let’s begin.”

Silence
descended and they watched Madame Humphries suck in a huge gulp of
breath through her teeth. Harriett thought back to her mirth on
that first night but couldn’t find anything funny about the
theatrics tonight. It felt strangely sad, or was that the
atmosphere around the room? She had no idea. What she was certain
of was that she felt very safe next to someone as calm as
Mark.

Everyone
placed their fingers on the glass and waited.

“
Come to me, my great spirit friends. Draw closer around us
and bring us your energies.”

“
Oh, dear me, no,” Miss Hepplethwaite twittered nervously at
the head of the table, and placed one hand on Augusta Humphries’
shoulder. Madame Humphries immediately snapped forward in her chair
and stared at the far end of the room.

“
Good Lord above,” she whispered.

Harriett
frowned and turned to stare at the blackness that encased the end
of the room. Her heart began to pound in her throat and her hand
trembled. For some reason, her thoughts turned toward Hugo Montague
and Minerva Bobbington. If either of them stepped out of the
shadows, she would be the first one out of the door. Everyone else
could do what they liked. As it was, after several minutes of
unsuccessfully trying to look into the blackness, she sighed and
turned back toward the table.

Mark
stared at the space where Miss Hepplethwaite had been standing. He
glanced around the room and caught a flurry of movement behind
Tuppence.

“
I suggest you come and sit down, Miss Hepplethwaite, we can
see you, you know,” Mark drawled into the darkness. He didn’t care
what they had intended to do, but he was not going to tolerate any
of their shenanigans while he was in the house. He pushed away from
the table, leaned toward the hearth behind him and pick up a
candelabra. He took a moment to light the candles and lift it high
enough to cast the room in a rosy glow.

There,
at the far end of the room, facing the closed curtains stood Miss
Hepplethwaite. Mark considered the distance between where she stood
and the door that led to the hallway, and wondered whether she had
been after something in the room or had intended to dash upstairs.
Nevertheless, plans thwarted, the small woman appeared to give
herself a mental shake before she turned to face them.

“
Who was it, Gertrude?” Madame Humphries demanded when Miss
Hepplethwaite had returned to her side.

“
I don’t know. I didn’t get a chance to see them very
clearly,” she replied with a frown.

Mark was
far from convinced and placed the candelabra, still lit, on the
mantle behind him.

“
Right, if we extinguish that light then –”

“
The light stays on,” Mark interjected in a voice as cold as a
winter’s day.

“
But-”

“
I think that given what happened last time, it would ease
everyone’s nerves if we could at least see the people we are
sitting with. There is no reason why the spirits won’t work with us
if we need a bit of light for reassurance, now is there? I am sure
they understand how shaken people are feeling after the recent
spate of deaths.” Mark’s voice was reason personified and gave
neither woman any opportunity to argue. “Now, I think we need to
carry on.” With that, he placed his finger on the glass and watched
everyone follow suit.