Mr Scarletti's Ghost (37 page)

‘I must? Richard, might I remind you that I do not approve of this scheme and want nothing to do with it,' she said, crossly. ‘In fact, since it has not yet been attempted, I beg you to abandon it at once.'

‘But who else can I trust?' he pleaded. ‘Mina, my darling sister, all you have to do is wait for me in the street, and if we are questioned then you can say that you have been in my company all evening, so you may save me, too.'

‘And what of Miss Gilden? Is she unwell?'

‘No, she has gone to London. Have you not seen the newspapers?'

Mina shook her head, dreading to think what she had missed.

‘There has been some shocking news,' Richard informed her. ‘M. Baptiste – and I think in spite of everything Nellie still retains some affection for him – has been shot and wounded in the street by a madwoman. So, of course, as his wife, and in all probability his sole heir, Nellie has rushed to his side. It's understandable of course, but my plans are now in disarray, and who knows how long she will have to stay there, mopping his brow, or whatever it is that ladies do.'

‘And, of course,' Mina observed, ‘not only Nellie but Miss Foxton and Lady Finsbury are absent from Brighton.'

‘Yes, and the Ethiopian Wonder, and whole host of fascinating ladies besides. But please promise me you will help.'

‘It is a very dangerous scheme,' said Mina.

‘But your help will make it less so,' he said with his most persuasive smile. ‘I am asking such a little simple thing, and you will not be in any danger at all. If needs be you can always say that all you did was hire a cab at my request, and knew nothing of my reasons for wanting it.'

‘And what of the cabman?' she reminded him. ‘Will he also be your alibi? Or a witness for the prosecution?'

‘The cab will be at the end of the street, so he will see nothing.' He hugged her. ‘Please, Mina, darling Mina, you are the only person clever enough to help me.'

It was with considerable reluctance that Mina, accepting that she could not dissuade her brother, agreed to help, if only to protect him from disgrace, and her mother from shame.

Mina felt bereft of proper advice. She dared not approach anyone connected with the law, but felt that at the very least she should speak to someone sympathetic and sensible. After a great deal of hesitation she decided to speak to Dr Hamid, who, she thought, at least needed to know of the grave doubts that had arisen from Nellie's visit. She felt sure that underneath the grief and the hope there was still a man who remained settled in his appreciation of the world and how it was formed and worked.

It was a fine day and he agreed to take a walk with her on the Chain Pier, where he seemed to be not so much contemplating the land and all that moved on it, or even the cool waters and the constantly changing place where the two met, but gazing instead into the air, as if looking about him for evidence of spirits. They walked slowly, not only due to Mina's preferred speed of gait, but because the gentleness of the stroll pleased them both. They passed under the cast-iron arches, which housed little kiosks selling toys, sweetmeats and novelties, going toward the old landing stage at the end, where the packet boats arrived from Dieppe. Being of purely commercial use it was the least attractive part of the pier, and it was no coincidence thought Mina that the most popular portraits of the pier seemed either to be facing away from it, or with its slime-blackened supports in the misty distance. They stopped briefly for refreshments, and passers-by looked on the pair with approval, seeing a kind gentleman assisting a poor crippled lady.

‘I don't know if you have heard about the scandal regarding Mr Clee,' Mina said.

‘No,' said Dr Hamid, ‘but nothing would surprise me about that individual. Anna has told me about his attempt to win her, and a more transparent fortune hunter was never known. Anna is a fine, honest and loving woman, and I hope even now that she may find someone worthy of her, who will add to her happiness, but that person is not Mr Clee.'

‘He may well be married already,' said Mina, ‘and he appears also to be engaged to two other ladies, one of whom, my mother's former companion Miss Simmons, is taking an action for breach of promise.'

‘The scoundrel!' he exclaimed, shaking his head in dismay. ‘And this is the creature who has attached himself to Miss Eustace, no doubt with hopes of winning her, too. Thankfully Miss Simmons's action will alert her to his true nature. I, like you, have become convinced that he is simply a conjurer, and his object has been from the start to conjure Miss Eustace from her fortune.'

‘The lady has many admirers, yet seems to entertain none of them,' said Mina. They walked on. There was little enough to divert them on the pier, other than the sea and the sky, but that was all to the good. ‘My brother Richard has recently told me he wishes to court her, but I have told him he is unlikely to be successful.' She looked at Dr Hamid carefully as she spoke, but he seemed unconcerned at the news, and she was reassured that he at least had no tender interest in Miss Eustace. ‘But Richard can be impulsive and reckless, and I fear that he may do something foolish,' she went on.

‘He did recklessly offer to knock down Mr Clee unless he left my house, something which I must admit did commend him to me,' said Dr Hamid, with a smile.

‘He wishes to make Miss Eustace a gift to express his admiration, but he disdains to deliver it in the usual way,' said Mina. ‘He plans to make a bold gesture by placing it in her apartments without her knowing, so it will seem to have appeared by supernatural means.'

He stopped walking and stared at her. ‘Goodness – how does he propose to do that?'

‘I am very sorry to say that the means he is adopting may place him in danger of arrest,' said Mina.

Dr Hamid looked shocked. ‘You must try to dissuade him!'

‘I have done my best, truly I have, but he insists on making the attempt. He has asked me to wait with a cab at the end of the street – Miss Eustace lodges not far from Professor and Mrs Gaskin – and I am to be there to make sure he can make his escape.'

‘Oh, this is very wrong!' said Dr Hamid, clapping one hand to his forehead and pacing up and down. ‘Not only does he risk his own liberty but he draws you in as an accomplice! But you say that he only wishes to leave something, and intends to take nothing away?'

‘Oh, Richard is no thief; I can assure you of that. I only hope that if he is caught it will be put down to a youthful escapade and he will have learned his lesson. What do you think I should do?'

He sighed. ‘Is there anyone else whose opinion might sway him?'

‘Only Mother, and I prefer her to know nothing of it, in fact I dread her finding out. She is very unhappy over the business with Miss Simmons and I will not add to her worries.'

He looked at her sympathetically. ‘I can see that you are very fond of your brother. You would not have harm come to him and whatever he does you will not abandon him. I can only advise you to do your utmost to dissuade him from this foolhardy plan, and if you cannot then no advice I or anyone else can give will prevent you from assisting him. Of course, if he is only intending to leave a gift then it may take just moments to achieve his aim, and you may then hurry him safely away; only do make him promise faithfully that any future gifts are delivered by more conventional means.'

‘I will do as you suggest,' she said. ‘Will you be at Miss Eustace's séance tonight?'

‘That is my plan, and now I can see where I might be able to help you. On my way home I will look to ensure that you and your brother have departed safely before Miss Eustace returns. Where does she lodge?'

‘Bloomsbury Place. I will have the cab wait at the northern end.'

‘Then I very much hope that we will not meet there.'

The séance was due to start at eight o'clock, although how long it was likely to last was unpredictable. Mina hired the cab for eight, but Richard, with his customary sense of urgency, arrived late and then insisted on stopping on the way to purchase cigars. It was therefore well after half past the hour when they arrived in Bloomsbury Place, and stopped at the end furthest from the seafront, where the road took a turn into College Place and the cabman would not be able to see where Richard was going. The sun was dipping towards the horizon, and the summer light was fading as Richard drew his black velvet cloak about him.

‘Did you bring a gift for Miss Eustace to act as your alibi?' asked Mina.

‘Oh, no, I forgot,' said Richard. ‘Well, it's too late now, I suppose.'

Mina handed him a lace handkerchief. ‘Oh, my wonderful sister!' he exclaimed, pocketing it, ‘What would I do without you!'

‘Please be as quick as you can,' she urged.

He laughed affectionately at her worried expression, kissed her cheek, and then jumped down from the cab and sauntered down the street disappearing around the corner. ‘Am I to wait here, Miss?' asked the cabman.

‘Yes, my brother is just delivering a gift to a friend, he will return soon,' said Mina. Time passed, and she could imagine Richard climbing up to the balcony, swinging his long legs over the railings, then, more perilously, using the narrow window ledges, ascending higher to Miss Eustace's rooms. She hoped that he would not fall, hoped also that when he reached the second floor that he would find the windows had been securely locked, give up the enterprise, and return to her with a rueful expression. He did not return, and after a while she began to worry that he had indeed fallen and was lying injured in the street, or worse still, had become impaled on the iron railings that surrounded the basement area. Perversely, she thought of a story – the ghost of a man who had died in that horrible way, haunting passers-by with the great iron spike through his chest. It was a dreadful image and she almost disliked herself for thinking of it. She was about to ask the cabman to turn around and move closer when there was a knock on the door. Her first happy thought was that it was Richard, thankfully safe, but to her surprise she saw that it was Dr Hamid.

He climbed in, and though it was now growing dark, she could see that his face was grim and drawn.

‘Did you walk up Bloomsbury Place?' she asked. ‘Did you see anything? I was so worried that Richard had fallen, and I was about to go and look for him.'

He shook his head. ‘No, no, I saw nothing.' Suddenly he leaned forward, hid his face in his hands and groaned. ‘I have been such a fool!' he said. ‘Whatever will you think of me?!'

‘What has happened?' asked Mina. ‘Is the séance over? Is Miss Eustace on her way home?'

He raised his head and his face was a picture of misery. ‘No, it is still in progress. I made an excuse and left early. I needed to think about what I had been told.' He made a little gulp that was almost a sob. ‘How could I have been so taken in?'

‘Because she caught you when your grief and pain were fresh and you would have done anything, grasped at any hope to relieve them,' said Mina, gently.

He nodded. ‘You are right, of course. But at first it seemed so very real, so full of hope! Tonight, we were just a small circle, receiving messages through rapping noises that spelled out words. Eliza – only, of course, I now know it cannot have been Eliza – said she was sorry if she had caused any offence to Dr Chenai when he met with her. He is a friend of mine, and some months ago she agreed with some reluctance to allow him to examine her, but I saw at the time that she regretted it and would not answer his questions. The message stated that she found herself unable to look at or speak to him as she was unsettled by his appearance, something for which she now felt profoundly sorry. Dr Chenai had been stricken with a palsy, and one side of his face was drawn up. But the mere idea that Eliza would have made a comment on a person's appearance could only be entertained by someone who had never met her. And then – and then I recalled that Dr Chenai was not afflicted until some weeks after he examined Eliza. She never saw him again, and his case was not reported in the newspapers and I thought it best not to mention it to her, so she never knew of it.'