Mesmerized

“Ghosts?” he asked with an ironic undertone.

“I have never been called upon to investigate ghosts, my lord. In general, it is the people who call themselves mediums and their practices which I have investigated.”

“Like Mrs. Terhune last night.”

“Precisely.”

“Why?”

“Because I dislike fraud, my lord, and I find it reprehensible that someone deceives people, often those grieving for a dead loved one, by pretending that he or she can communicate with the dead, in particular those departed loved ones.”

“Then you don’t believe they can communicate with the spirits from beyond?”

“I have never found one yet who did,” Olivia returned crisply. “None of them have offered proof that satisfied me.”

“Do you know a woman named Madame Valenskaya?”

“I have heard of her,” Olivia replied. “I have not met the woman myself.”

“Do you think that she can communicate with spirits?”

“I have not investigated her, but based on my experience with other mediums, I would say that it is highly unlikely. In general, Lord St. Leger, mediums employ a number of tricks to make it appear that so-called spirits are in the room with them. They insist on having the right atmosphere in the room, which generally means the room must be in darkness or very low light. Then the ‘spirits’ visit them in the form of rappings or sometimes as luminous things floating in the air, or even ghostly looking people. They will offer ‘proof’ that they are not themselves causing these things to occur. This ‘proof’ usually comes in the form of their having everyone hold hands around a circle, so that someone on either side is holding the medium’s hand. They even have the people on either side place their foot upon each of the medium’s feet under the table. Then when the rapping comes, the people on either side can vouch that the medium did not use her hands or feet.”

“So how do they accomplish the rappings?”

“Some, like the Fox sisters, said that they were able to crack their toes inside their shoes and even their knees, as well, to produce the rapping. They will wear shoes that are too big for their feet, so that they can pull their foot down inside the shoe and crack the toes or even pull their feet out of the shoe altogether. Then they can crack their toes or raise their knee and knock against the underside of the table. Another common ruse is to have an accomplice in the group, and that person sits on one side of the medium. He will say that he held the medium’s hand throughout the course of the séance, but in reality, one of her hands is free. Also, under cover of darkness, the medium can arrange it so that the innocent person on the other side of her is actually taking hold of her accomplice’s hand and foot instead of her own. Then she is free to flit around the room doing whatever she pleases.”

Olivia, warming to her subject, stood up and went to a nearby cabinet, opening it to reveal a number of items inside. “This bottle contains phosphorescent paint. They can paint it on whatever object they wish to hang in the air in a ghostly glowing way—a popular one is a trumpet. They can put it on a piece of thin cloth, such as gauze, and when they are free of the table, they-or an accomplice who was not even in the room to begin with—can drape this gauze over themselves, and in the dark they give off the appearance of a ghost. I have known intelligent, even scientific, gentleman to be completely won over by the appearance of one of these ‘ghosts.’”

St. Leger came over to the cabinet and stood beside her. Olivia was tinglingly aware of his presence, the heat of his large body, the faint smell of shaving soap that clung to his skin. St. Leger looked down dubiously at the length of gauze and the tin toy trumpet and harp that had all been painted with phosphorescent paint. At length he said, “It’s absurd. Why would anyone believe these things?”

“Well, they are more impressive viewed in the dark, glowing and seeming suspended in air,” Olivia pointed out. “There is heightened tension. People are waiting for the unknown, hoping, and probably a little fearful. And if one believes, as these people do, that the medium is still firmly planted in her chair, then it must seem that these things appear freely, just hanging magically in the air. Even I, I confess, have felt a little shiver down my spine when one has appeared. And I know how the tricks are done.”

“What is that?” He pointed to a short black rod, narrow in diameter, with a clamp on one end.

“A telescoping rod,” Olivia explained, taking the rod out and pulling it out to its full length of four feet. “They can hold the objects up quite high with this, but then it can be pushed back down to a foot and easily concealed, like the other things in their capacious pockets. You will notice that the mediums always wear rather full garments, with plenty of room for deep pockets inside, where they do not show. Few people will insist on searching a medium’s body that closely. It would be considered impolite.”

He nodded. “What about this cabinet thing that Mrs. Terhune was locked in?”

“Oh, that is another ‘proof’ that the medium is not the person committing the acts those in attendance see. The medium sits down on a chair inside the cabinet, and she is tied up as Mrs. Terhune was. In these instances, the medium is skilled at getting out of knots or she has an accomplice who makes sure that the knots are loosely tied, or a combination of both. Then the door is closed and even sometimes locked. The lamp is turned out, so that no one can see, and sometimes the group is encouraged to sing to welcome the spirits. The singing helps to cover any noises the medium makes getting out of her ropes inside the box. Then she’ll put on the phosphorescent gauze and leave the box, or even just stand inside it and let her head show over the door, or hold up a painted glove or trumpet or such. Mrs. Terhune holds up pictures of people’s heads. It is quite ludicrous to see, except that most of the people there believe they are ghosts. Then the medium ties herself back up, and when the guests open the door again, she pretends to come out of her trance and wants to know what happened.”

St. Leger frowned. “It all seems so simple. So obvious.”

“It is. But most people don’t look at what they see critically or logically. They want the medium to be genuine. They want to believe their loved one can still see them and talk to them. They want to believe that life goes on after one dies. It is easy to believe when one wants to so much.”

“I suppose.” St. Leger looked at her thoughtfully. “If you were to go to a medium’s séance, could you spot the tricks? Could you expose her?”

“I think so. It might take a few times. Spotting what she does is not as difficult as proving it. I can explain what tricks I think she uses, but usually the victim is so eager to believe the medium is real that I would have to catch her in the act to make the victim believe that it’s a trick.”

He nodded. Olivia watched him. She could almost see the thoughts turning in his head. She wondered who it was who was being deceived by a medium—presumably Madame Valenskaya, since he had mentioned her—and what relation the victim was to Lord St. Leger.

“What is it you would like me to do?” she asked finally.

He looked at her. “I want you to come to my home in the country for a few weeks.”

CHAPTER THREE

FOR A LONG moment Olivia simply stared at him. Across the room, Tom made a noise, quickly covered by a cough.

Finally she said, “I beg your pardon?”

St. Leger colored faintly, realizing how his words had sounded. Stephen did not understand why everything he said to this woman seemed to come out wrong. As soon as he had stepped inside the door and seen her again, he had been touched by that strange, elusive feeling he had experienced when he first looked at her. Then, for some reason, the dream he had had last night had come back to him, making him feel even stranger. It had been a peculiar dream, more vivid and real than any he could ever remember having, and having absolutely nothing to do with anything in his life. It was even more peculiar for his mind to keep returning to it during the day. The whole time he had been here, he thought, he had been extraordinarily inarticulate. It must be, he thought, that he was embarrassed to reveal his family’s vagaries to a stranger.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I know I must sound...odd. I have not told you what the problem is. The thing is—” He paused. “I trust you are discreet, as you say on your card?”

“Yes, of course. Neither Tom, my assistant, nor I would ever reveal anything of which you spoke to us.”

“It is not for myself that I worry. But my mother—my mother has been very distraught with grief for the past year. My older brother died, and she took it very hard, of course. This summer she brought my sister to London. And since she has been here, she has taken up with Madame Valenskaya. She thinks that the woman can communicate with the dead. I was not too worried at first. I assumed it was harmless enough. But I found out that she has been giving the woman quite valuable possessions. I fear Madame Valenskaya is taking advantage of her. She manipulates her. I’m certain of it. Somehow she worked Lady St. Leger around to inviting her to our estate in the country, now that the season is over—and Madame’s daughter and her patron, as well, a chap named Howard Babington.”

“Oh. I see.”

“I am not a tyrant. I could scarcely tell her that she could not invite them. She is completely enamored of this woman....”

Olivia nodded sympathetically. “It makes it difficult.”

“It occurred to me that perhaps you could investigate Madame Valenskaya. But of course, since she is going to be at Blackhope with us, you would have to come there. However, that might be easier if you could come as a guest, also. She wouldn’t have to know that you are investigating her. Is she likely to know what you do?”

“I wouldn’t think so. I’m not that famous. Few enough people have taken advantage of my services.”

“Then I would be most grateful if you could come. If, of course, you are willing to do so.”

“Yes, of course.” Olivia saw no point in telling him that the prospect of spending a good deal of time with him in the same house made her heart speed up and her throat turn dry. She was not accustomed to being a guest at country house parties. She was not a social person, as was Kyria, and she certainly wasn’t used to spending time in such close proximity to any male who was not a member of her family or Tom.

“It, ah, might actually be easier to catch her out in a house with which she is not familiar,” Olivia went on. “When the séances are held in the medium’s own home or that of her accomplice, they can rig up various things in the room—wires that let down the objects that appear in midair, trapdoors in the floor through which something or someone can rise up, that sort of thing. The easiest to do in one’s own home is to have an accomplice hidden in the next room to do the rappings on the wall between the rooms. But in your house, there would be no access to any of those things.”

“Then you’ll do it?”

“Yes. But Tom must come with me. My assistant.”

He glanced at Tom, who was grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of an adventure. “Yes, of course, if you wish.”

“He can be one of my servants, you know, for helping with the bags and such.” Tom looked less pleased at this idea, and Olivia told him, “That way you can investigate through the servants, listen to the gossip. And people talk much more freely in front of servants than others, and they don’t question your being in a guest’s room, generally.”

Tom brightened. “That’s right. Mayhap this Madame will have a servant, too, and I can get ’em to talk.”

“Yes. That would be wonderful.” Excitement was growing in Olivia. She had never had such a splendid opportunity to investigate a medium before—a long period of time and the host’s permission. Her eyes shone as she looked up at Stephen. “Lord St. Leger, I appreciate this sincerely.”

“Stephen,” he said.