Page 35 of A Whisper and a Curse

“I don’t recall,” Hawkins said blithely. “How can I help you?”

Tilda took a step toward the medium. “We’ve come to speak with you about Mrs. Frost and the London Spiritualism Society. I’m afraid we have distressing news”

Hawkins’s eyes shuttered, and his expression took on a guarded state. “What is that?”

“We had an appointment to speak with Mrs. Frost today, but she was, most unfortunately, murdered.”

Eyes rounding, Hawkins gasped. He clapped his hand to his mouth. “How can that be?” He shook his head. “Please don’t tell me she was killed in the same manner as Ward.”

“She was, in fact,” Hadrian replied. “Why would you assume so?”

Hawkins looked to Tilda. “You said she was murdered. I instantly thought of Ward. That was only two days ago.”

“Of course it makes sense you would think of that.” Tilda appreciated that Hadrian had asked for clarification. She sent him a quick glance of gratitude before returning her gaze to Hawkins. “Would you like to sit?”

Nodding, Hawkins walked stiffly to a small seating area near the hearth. He fell into a chair there without waiting for Tilda and Hadrian to take their seats.

Tilda perched on a settee, and Hadrian sat beside her. “I’m so sorry to deliver this terrible news.”

Hawkins stared past them, his eyes glazed. “She was a friend of mine, of course.”

“You were both members of the London Spiritualism Society,” Tilda said.

“Yes. Founding members.” He blinked, then focused on them. “My apologies, this is a great shock. Ward’s death was awful enough, but to think it happened again—and to a fine woman such as Deborah.” His brow formed deep creases. “The police must catch this dastardly killer.”

“They are working on doing so,” Tilda assured him. “Can you think of anyone who would want to kill Mrs. Frost and Mr. Ward?”

Hawkins opened his mouth, then snapped it closed. He was quiet a moment as his jaw quivered. Looking down at his lap, he brushed at his knee. “Forgive me,” he whispered. “This is most terrible.” When he lifted his gaze once more, there was moisture in his eyes. “It seems someone is killing mediums.Iam a medium. This is incredibly distressing.”

“Of course it is,” Tilda said softly. “Since both Mrs. Frost and Mr. Ward were members of the society, I wondered if someone might have a quarrel with the group.”

“Then why wouldn’t they kill Lysander?” Hawkins snapped. He seemed almost angry, but Tilda understood his emotions were high. “I don’t know anyone who would seek to harm the society or anyone in it.”

“Do you know of anyone who was unhappy with how a séance went?” Hadrian asked. “Perhaps they weren’t able to speak with their deceased loved one and were upset about that.”

“That has never happened in my experience,” Hawkins replied fiercely. “It may take a few séances to reach the desired person, but I always find them in the spirit realm.”

If the man didn’t actually speak to the dead, everything he’d just said was a lie. And if he lied about that, would he lie about someone being upset? Tilda could understand that the medium would not want to share that someone had believed him to be a fraud.

“Forgive me, Mr. Hawkins, but I must ask a question that may annoy you,” Tilda said cautiously. “Did you or any of the other mediums ever have a client who accused you or anyone in the society of trickery or fraud?”

Hawkins pressed his lips together and looked away. At length, he said, “I suppose that has happened once or twice, but those people came to the society looking to create a scandal.”

Tilda exchanged a look with Hadrian. “If you could recall who those people were, it would be helpful to the investigation of these murders.”

“I do not,” Hawkins said. “You could ask Lysander. He may remember.” He narrowed his eyes at Tilda. “Why are you asking me questions? You sound as if you are investigating these murders? And you were at the inquest yesterday. You don’t work for the police.”

Tilda decided it was time to reveal herself. Since she was no longer just investigating the society’s authenticity in contacting the spirit realm, there was no reason to hide her occupation. “I am a private investigator, and Iaminvestigating the murders.”

“I have never heard of a woman private investigator.” Hawkins sounded dubious.

“Miss Wren is highly skilled,” Hadrian said. “She has solved several cases, including murders.”

Hawkins looked surprised as he gave Tilda his attention. “I am most eager to help catch whoever killed Deborah and Cyril.”

Tilda gave him an appreciative nod. “Perhaps you could tell us about Mrs. Frost. It sounds as though you knew her well. I understand she was relatively new to London.”

Hawkins’s features relaxed slightly. “Yes. She moved here from Wroughton.”