Medium Dead: An Alexandra Gladstone Mystery (10 page)

She’d thought the remoteness had worked in her favor when the queen requested that she ask Nicholas to open Montmarsh to her and then requested that Her Ladyship accompany her. She hadn’t guessed at the time the real reason for choosing Montmarsh was that the dreadful woman, Something-or-other Elwold, lived in the village. A medium! It would be disgraceful if it weren’t the queen. There were certain things that had to be overlooked, however, Lady Forsythe thought with regret and no small measure of fear.

There was no denying that Her Majesty had her eccentricities. Certainly, she had her good qualities, as any loyal British subject knew. Obviously she had exquisite taste. Hadn’t she been so taken by the unique quality of the diamond-encrusted brooch that she asked if she might wear it for a short time?

How could Lady Forsythe refuse the queen’s request? How could Lady Forsythe know that Her Majesty would lose it on her jaunt to the graveyard? Her Majesty’s reason for going there could not be discussed. However, there was no question that Lady Forsythe herself had to go to the graveyard to try to find the lost piece of jewelry. It wouldn’t do for someone else to find it there. That would surely implicate her in the distasteful situation.

To think she’d actually been happy when Her Majesty announced that she wanted to come to Montmarsh for a secret retreat. Lady Forsythe was now beginning to think a visit from the queen was something she could have lived her entire life without experiencing.

Of course, it was something one could drop hints about at certain fashionable gatherings. Perhaps all wasn’t lost. The queen would remember her visit favorably, wouldn’t she? If this murder business passed, at least. After all, Her Majesty
had
been able to contact Prince Albert, her late husband. Never mind that she had refused to reveal the name of the medium who had accomplished the contact. Lady Forsythe remained skeptical that anyone could actually contact the dead, especially since she wasn’t allowed to sit in on the secret session.

Lady Forsythe believed she had been able to keep all the rumors of Her Majesty being a suspect away from the queen. However, she knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until the queen was safely back in London, away from the gossip of Newton-upon-Sea and from the prying of that dreadful constable.

“My lady, what are you doing out of bed?”

The words and the voice startled Lady Forsythe just as she was about to open the door to her bedroom, and she turned to see Madam Cudney approaching her from the opposite end of the hall.

“I was, ummm, I was having some pain. In my side, you see. And I thought if I could walk around a bit it would help—”

“My dear lady, of course it won’t help,” Madam Cudney said, hurrying toward her. “You must get back in bed. I’ll summon Sir Jenner. Or, if you prefer, I’ll call that woman. What was her name? Dr. Gladstone, wasn’t it? Perhaps I should give you another dose of laudanum. Dr. Gladstone left enough for another dose, didn’t she?”

“No, there’s no more laudanum left in the bottle. It was an amazingly small amount she provided. I believe she thought it best I not take too much.”

“Nonsense! I’ll persuade Sir Jenner to give you some of the stock he keeps at all times for Her Majesty. He’s still here, you know. He almost never leaves the queen’s side.”

“If you think it would be permissible, I—”

“A shame, really,” Madam Cudney said, interrupting her. “That you’re feeling so poorly, I mean. Especially since Her Majesty asked for a private dinner with you tonight. Just the two of you. She wanted a chance to show her appreciation before she departs tomorrow for—”

“Her Majesty asked…just the two of us?”

“Don’t worry, my lady. I shall inform her that you’re not feeling well. She will understand, of course.”

“You will inform her that I’m feeling much better,” Lady Forsythe said. She had managed to seat herself on the edge of the bed, and she was beginning to perspire a bit from the deep pain she felt returning along her right side. “Of course I will be pleased and honored to dine with Her Majesty.”

A gray winding sheet of November fog wrapped itself around the old house that had been in the Gladstone family for generations. As she approached her home, riding Lucy, Alexandra saw two figures creeping along close to the ground where the fog sheet lay in folds. The two creatures moved toward the house. She refrained from calling out to them, not wanting to attract their attention until she was closer and could identify them. Zack, who always walked beside her when she rode Lucy, growled, low and menacing. The two unnamed forms may have hesitated—it was hard to see them in the fog—but soon enough they had moved deeper into the shroud.

She was late getting home after helping Judith Harmsworth birth a baby. The boy she delivered was Judith’s first child, and the labor had been long and arduous. Now Alexandra was tired and hungry, not to mention damp from riding in the mist, and she was eager for the warmth of her fireside and a cup of Nancy’s steaming tea. First, though, she had to investigate the two odd-shaped figures.

She signaled Zack not to bark and made her way toward the stable. She felt a stab of anger when neither Rob nor Artie met her. She was too tired to see to Lucy herself.
Where could the two rascals be?

Of course! Where else but creeping through the fog, up to some sort of mischief. What sort of mischief they pursued was anyone’s guess. She wrapped Lucy’s reins around a post and set off, pushing her way through the fog to find them. Zack walked close beside her, but he showed no signs of nervousness. He also had, by this time, recognized the two figures.

Light from a parlor window, distorted and grotesque, bounced off the fog. The two figures ducked below the weak glow and made their way to the rotund trunk of the ash tree. One of them jumped to reach one of the branches, now naked of leaves. At the same moment, Alexandra called out, “Rob!”

The figure fell to the ground while the second figure, who, she assumed, was the younger Artie, scurried behind the enormous trunk.

“Rob, are you all right?” Alexandra hurried toward him.

“Ooo, I think I broke me arm.” Rob had managed to stand and was rubbing his right arm.

“Come with me to the surgery, and I’ll have a look. Artie, go see to Lucy, then join us. Come out from behind the tree and go now! Quickly!”

While Artie went to comply with her command, Rob followed her inside, and she examined his arm while he remained uncommonly quiet.

“Your arm’s not broken. It’s only bruised,” she said. “Now tell me, why were you climbing that tree this time of night?”

Rob ducked his head and didn’t answer.

“Rob?”

“Well…we was going to…you know, have a look.”

“Have a look? What could you possibly see in the…You were going to look in the parlor window? Rob, I’m shocked. And disappointed that you would—”

“Oh, no, Doc, don’t go gettin’ the wrong idea about me and Artie. We ain’t the ones to spy on the likes of you. Or Nancy.”

“No? Then what, exactly, were you planning to do?”

“Just wanted to see if they could make old Alvina come back.” Rob raised his eyes for the first time to look at Alexandra.

“Make Alvina…? Oh, the séance. I didn’t know it was to be tonight. Why didn’t you just ask Nancy if you could watch?”

Rob shrugged. “We did. She said me and Artie would scare the spirits away.”

“I suspect she’s right,” Alexandra said, smiling to herself.

Before Rob could respond, she heard the door to the surgery waiting room open.

“Come in, Artie,” Alexandra called without turning. “I want to talk to the both of you.”

“The both of us? Am I in trouble as well?” Nicholas said, walking in alongside Artie. “I swear I wasn’t climbing your tree.”

A reflex caused Alexandra to reach for her medical bag that she’d set on one of the cabinets. “It’s Lady Forsythe, isn’t it? Is she—”

“Lady Forsythe is in fine fettle. Well, relatively speaking, at least.” Nicholas leaned toward Alexandra and spoke in a stage whisper. “She’s having dinner with no other than her esteemed houseguest as we speak.”

“Her esteemed…I thought Her Roy…I thought the guest would have returned home by now.”

“Apparently not. MaMa is at the moment having dinner with that guest,” Nicholas said.

“Is ye talkin’ about the queen what’s stayin’ at Montmarsh?” Artie asked, looking up at Nicholas.

Nicholas gave Artie a look that was a mixture of surprise and dismay, but before he could say a word, Alexandra spoke.

“He’s not saying any such thing, Artie, and you must never repeat what you just said. What happens at Montmarsh is none of your affair. And speaking of prying into others’ affairs, I want to talk to you and Rob about your attempt to spy on the goings-on here at my home.”

“But we was just hoping to see the ghost,” Artie protested. “Just like Lord Dunsford here,” he said, referring to Nicholas. “Told me hisself, ’e did, that ’e come here tonight hoping to see if they could call up a ghost.”

“Oh?” Alexandra said, with a glance toward Nicholas.

“Don’t give me that stony look!” Nicholas said. “You’re just as curious about this séance as I am, and I know you’re dying to watch it.”

“How did you know it was to be tonight?”

Nicholas grinned. “Pickwick let it slip.”

“I can’t allow any of you to eavesdrop on Nancy’s—”

“It ain’t eavesdroppin’,” Artie interrupted. “We’d just be watchin’.”

“Watching without the others knowing we’re watching them, Artie,” Alexandra said.

Artie gave her an incredulous look. “ ’Course they wouldn’t know. That’s the point, ain’t it?”

Nicholas gave him an approving nod. “You should be a barrister, boy. With that kind of reasoning, you’re a chap after my own heart.”

“Does that mean we can do it? Watch, I mean.” Rob jumped off the table, showing no signs of pain.

“Certainly not. I couldn’t allow—”

“I see no harm as long as we don’t disturb anyone,” Nicholas said.

“Lord Dunsford is right, way I sees it,” Rob said. “Wouldn’t harm nobody.”

“Way I sees it, too.” Artie was literally bouncing with excitement and expectation as he spoke.

Alexandra hesitated, then took a deep breath. “It’s against my better judgment, but—”

“That’s my girl!” Nicholas said before she could finish the sentence. At the same time, Rob whooped his excitement, and Artie jumped with even more enthusiasm.

“We must make certain no one is disturbed. We must all remain absolutely quiet as we watch, and we must remain out of sight on the landing of the stairs,” Alexandra said. In spite of herself, she was beginning to feel excited about the prospect of witnessing such an unusual event. For scientific reasons, she tried to tell herself. She couldn’t allow herself to admit that her interests were as voyeuristic as the others’.

“While I agree with your requirements for many reasons, not the least of which is that we don’t want to inhibit any of the participants, I do see some logistical problems,” Nicholas said. “For example, how are we going to position ourselves on the landing without going through the parlor where Nancy and the guests are already gathered?”

“I’ve lived in this house all my life,” Alexandra said. “You surely don’t think I’ve never before found my way to the landing to spy on what’s happening in the parlor.”

“Spy?” Nicholas sounded incredulous.

“Exactly. There’s no other word for it, is there? Now on with your coats, all of you, and follow me.”

It had been years since Alexandra or anyone else had used the old staircase at the back of the house that led down to what used to be the kitchen and what formerly were servants’ quarters. After her mother’s death, the old kitchen had gone out of use in favor of a smaller one on the ground floor. When her father died and Alexandra took over his practice, she’d found no need for the servants’ quarters, since Nancy was the only help she required, and it seemed foolish not to allow her to sleep in one of the unused bedrooms on the second floor.

It was Nancy who, when they were both children, had shown her that once they walked down the outside staircase, they could enter the servants’ quarters unseen. A door near the staircase concealed another narrow stairway that led up to the dining room so food could be brought up from the old kitchen and scullery. The passage had also provided easy access to a hidden stairway to the landing for a servant to use when any one of the house’s residents rang for him or her. Apparently her grandfather, or perhaps someone before him, had more than just a maid-of-all-work as she did. Alexandra had vague memories of the bell in her mother’s bedroom where she lay in her sick bed for what seemed, back then, an eternity. The bell was used to summon her mother’s nurse. It must have been dismantled after her mother’s death, since Alexandra hadn’t seen or heard it in years. She’d been too young to wonder how the nurse, who was Nancy’s mother, could appear so quickly out of nowhere when summoned. She’d always assumed it was magic until Nancy enlightened her.

The first stair groaned as Alexandra put her weight on it on her way down, and the second step swayed a little, as if nails in the platform had come loose from the supports. She grabbed the splintery railing with one hand while she tried to hold steady the oil lamp she’d taken from the surgery with her other hand.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t all be on the stairway at once,” she said, easing herself around to face the others behind her. “Here, take this.” She handed the lamp to Nicholas. “I’ll go down first without the light, since I’m somewhat familiar with the stairway. At least I once was. I’ll take Rob with me. You follow behind with the lamp and lead Artie. Zack, stay!” she commanded and reached for the smaller boy’s hand. Why on earth, she wondered as she inched her way down, was she attempting such a foolish endeavor?

When she reached the bottom with Artie in tow, she pushed the door and found it locked. However, the force of her push knocked one of the hinges ajar and made a loud, raspy screech. She could only hope Nancy and the guests hadn’t heard the sound. She didn’t want anything to prompt them to investigate. Nancy would not be surprised at her late return and would assume that whenever she arrived and saw there were guests, she would know they were going to conduct the séance. However, since Alexandra had voiced skepticism, Nancy would not expect her to join them. Instead, she would expect Alexandra to help herself to supper and go up to bed without disturbing the mysterious happenings in the parlor. That, of course, was exactly what should have happened.

When Nicholas and Artie began their descent, the stairway swayed and creaked its protest, leaving Artie wide-eyed and clinging to Nicholas. When finally she gave the command for Zack to come down, the first step gave way with a cracking sound. Zack was too eager to be with the rest of the group to do anything but ignore it and jump to the next step. He was almost at the bottom when another step crumpled under his weight, and Nicholas had to reach for him to pull him to safety. Zack was by no means grateful. He swung his one-hundred-fifty-pound body around, causing Nicholas to lose his balance and sprawl, face-first, on the floor.

“Oh!” Alexandra cried out in alarm as she hurried toward him. “I am so sorry, my lord. Are you all right? Here,” she said, reaching a hand toward him. “Allow me to—”

“I’m quite all right.” Nicholas sounded disgruntled as he sprang to his feet and did his best to wipe the dust from his coat and trousers.

By the time they all had reached the stairway that rose up to the landing, Alexandra’s head was pounding from the tension their furtive act had caused. She had to ignore the pain and concentrate on keeping everyone, including Zack, quiet. Darkness shrouded them as they lurked at the door that opened on the landing. She pushed at the door, and it creaked with a menacing sound as it opened. The landing was almost as dark as the hidden stairway had been, giving Alexandra hope that they couldn’t be seen from the parlor below. Only one small candle flickered on a table in the parlor, rendering it almost as dark as the rest of the house.

Around the table sat Nancy, Wilma, and Mrs. Pickwick. They held hands, making a small circle, and murmured in unison, in low monotones, words that were impossible to understand. It was equally difficult to tell whether they had their eyes closed or fixed on the flickering flame. The dim light cast grotesque shadows on the wall and the eerie sound of the chant created an unnatural and unnerving atmosphere that made Artie creep closer to her and grasp her skirt in one of his hands. Zack stood stiff and alert on her other side.

They all stared at the scene below them and listened to the monotony of the incantation for several seconds, lulled by its sameness. Suddenly a rush of wind made the flame dance wildly, and the murmuring stopped. Alexandra could feel the tension heighten among all of them, including Zack, who brought his ears up even more. A touch of her hand on his nose was a signal that he was not to bark. It was a command he did not always obey, and she was grateful that this time he complied. The parlor was still silent while the flame continued its erratic cavorting.

Out of nowhere, a low whine arose, barely enough to penetrate the silence. A sweetish, smoldering scent accompanied the sound. Alexandra felt a chill while the air around them seemed to vibrate. Arnie edged even closer and took a bigger wad of her skirt into his hands. Zack moved one paw forward, but moved it back when she touched his chest. She glanced at Rob and Nicholas and saw Rob’s wide eyes looking back at her. Nicholas acknowledged her with a look she couldn’t interpret. Was he as frightened as the rest of them, or was he simply amused?

Abruptly, everyone’s attention was drawn to the sound of a voice. The sound was more throaty and hoarse than the whine that had preceded it, an unearthly sound that was difficult to understand.

…disturb me…raise me from the depths of…
There was a pause, and then the voice continued.
I am Alvina Elwold, the one you summoned…want of me?

Alexandra’s nervousness had now been replaced with curiosity, and she leaned forward, trying to hear. The next voice she heard was Nancy’s. “Tell us who sent you to the depths of hell. Tell us who killed you.” She’d lost her usual confident tone, and her voice shook.