Page 58 of A Whisper and a Curse

“You don’t believe it’s possible that Ward obtained information from the spirit realm to blackmail Eldred?” Hadrian asked sardonically.

Teague sniggered. “Would you?”

“Absolutely not.”

Tilda frowned briefly. “Yet, Eldred says no one who is alive would know this information?”

“That is what he insists,” Teague said. “And he wasmostinsistent. I have to think someone elsedidknow. But why would they wait until now to blackmail Eldred?” He shook his head. “Unfortunately, I didn’t find him helpful. The only thing we have to go on is the location of where he was to pay the extortion—a grocer in Bedfordbury. I sent a constable to question them, but they said they didn’t know anything about blackmail, nor had anyone ever left money there.”

“They could be lying,” Hadrian suggested.

“Perhaps, but I’ve no way to know,” Teague said ruefully. “I’m hopeful we can find another blackmail victim.”

“What was the blackmail about?” she asked.

Teague exhaled. “That was the most frustrating part of our conversation. Eldred refused to say. He claimed disclosing the information would incriminate him.”

“That is tantamount to admitting he is a criminal,” Hadrian said. “Do you think he also may have killed Ward and Mrs. Frost?”

“I doubt it. Whilst he may have had motive to kill Ward if he was indeed being blackmailed by the medium, I can’t come upwith a motive for him to kill Mrs. Frost.” Teague lifted a shoulder and frowned. “As it happens, Eldred had an alibi—he has been in Bath the past week and only arrived home last evening. His manservant confirmed this. I would add that Eldred doesn’t seem large or strong enough to have positioned the bodies without help.”

“Well, that is a disappointing dead end,” Tilda said. “Though learning that the spiritualism society may engage in extortion is interesting. Perhaps there are other victims, including one who was angry enough to kill.”

“I have considered that and will be looking for more evidence. I trust you’ll be doing the same,” he said with a half smile.

“Of course,” Tilda replied. “Did the pearl earring we found at Mrs. Frost’s offer any help?”

Teague shook his head. “I believe you already know that it did not belong to Mrs. Frost. We asked everyone we interviewed with the society about it, and no one could recall seeing it. I also took it to a jeweler for assessment. It doesn’t bear any jeweler markings and was cheaply made. Since Mrs. Frost held séances in the drawing room upstairs, that earring could have belonged to anyone who visited. I’m not sure it’s an actual clue to the murder.”

“Would you mind if we question Mr. Eldred?” Tilda asked. “I should like to understand his perceptions of Ward and how he worked as a medium. It would aid my investigation.”

“I’ve no opposition to that. If you happen to learn the purpose of the blackmail, I hope you’ll tell me.”

“Certainly,” Tilda replied.

After obtaining Eldred’s direction, Tilda and Hadrian left Scotland Yard. Eldred was located near Bloomsbury Square, and they decided to go there straightaway.

Hadrian crossed his arms over his chest as he surveyed Tilda from the opposite seat in the coach. “Your real purpose in interviewing Eldred is to determine whether the society used his memory to blackmail him.”

“Yes. And if they did, I have to think there are others. One of them may be the murderer.”

“How do we go about finding them?”

She gave him a sly smile. “We investigate.”

Tilda thought about how they might flush out other blackmail victims. Eldred had done them a favor by barging into Ward’s séance and declaring his anger. However, no one else had done anything like that. Perhaps there weren’t any other victims. But Tilda doubted that.

She and Hadrian departed the coach and went to Eldred’s door. A housekeeper showed them into a cozy sitting room where Eldred was already seated.

Hadrian made their introductions whilst Eldred regarded them dubiously. “You’ve come to speak with me about the London Spiritualism Society? I’ve nothing good to say about it.”

“That is quite all right,” Tilda replied with a smile. “We are seeking the truth about their activities. I am a private investigator.”

“You may as well sit then.” Eldred waved them down. He looked to be in his sixties, and Teague’s assessment that the man was not large or strong enough to move bodies over stair railings seemed accurate. Eldred was slight of frame, and though he was seated, appeared short of stature. His head was mostly bald, save a semi-circle of grayish-white around the sides and back, but he had a neat, gray goatee.

Tilda and Hadrian perched together on a small settee. They weren’t quite touching, but they were close enough for Tilda to be utterly aware of his proximity. She could smell his soap or cologne—whatever it was—and reminded herself not to notice such things. They were too … stirring.

“How did you come to speak to me?” Eldred asked.