Page 84 of A Whisper and a Curse

Hadrian nodded. The article had included a few quotes from someone called Harmony Smith, a young medium, who said she was leaving the society because of the murders. There were also statements from people who refused to be named—mostly that they fully supported the society and trusted that the Levitation Killer would be caught soon. There were still others whom Clement indicated had declined to comment. Overall, he concluded that the society was somewhat shrouded in secrecy and that it appeared shaken by all it had endured recently.

“What do you think about Harmony Smith leaving the society?” Hadrian asked.

“I’m not surprised that a medium would choose to distance themselves from the society after three other mediums have been murdered. Honestly, I’m surprised more have not done the same.”

“Clement certainly painted a portrait of a society that is falling part.”

“Especially with the arrest of its leader. Clement made no small point of that.” Tilda cocked her head. “I was also interested to read about the pearl earring I found at Mrs. Frost’s house when her body was discovered. I have to think he spoke with the Henry siblings.”

“We could ask Clement,” Hadrian suggested, though the idea of approaching the man for information was unappealing.

Tilda gave him an arch look. “I am not sure he will want to share information after the way we brushed him off yesterday. Although, if we offered him something in return, he may be more amenable. I shall think on it.”

They arrived in Montpelier Square and departed the coach. Hadrian rapped upon Joslin’s door and handed his card to the butler.

The butler’s brows briefly shot up before he invited them inside. He showed them to a sitting room just off the entrance hall, then departed to fetch Mr. Joslin.

“It may be best if you begin the conversation,” Tilda said. “Since you and he are acquainted.”

Hadrian nodded. He didn’t know Joslin well, but they’d conversed from time to time at Brooks’s.

Joslin entered the sitting room a few moments later. He’d grown a beard and mustache since Hadrian had seen him last. They were white, which made the man seem older than his sixty or so years, probably because the hair on his head was a mix of brown and gray.

“Ravenhurst, what a surprise.” He reached out to shake Hadrian’s hand.

Removing his glove, Hadrian clasped the man’s hand and immediately saw a vision, though it didn’t last long. Hadrian saw the interior of Brooks’s—and himself. That was the first time he’d seen himself in someone’s memory. It was disconcerting.

Hadrian gestured to Tilda. “This is my colleague, Miss Matilda Wren.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Joslin,” Tilda said warmly.

Joslin inclined his head. “Please, sit. I can’t imagine why you’ve called today.”

Tilda and Hadrian sat together on a settee, whilst their host took a chair across from them.

“I hope you won’t find the reason of our visit intrusive,” Hadrian said. “Miss Wren is a private investigator, and I assist her.”

“Youassisther?” Joslin blinked.

“Yes,” Hadrian replied patiently. “She is investigating the London Spiritualism Society. Mrs. Langdon informed us that you attended a séance—or perhaps séances—conducted by Mrs. Frost.”

Joslin’s bushy gray brows drew together over his small, dark eyes. “I’ve nothing to say on the matter of that society or Mrs. Frost, God rest her poor soul.”

“Indeed?” Tilda asked, her tone hinting at surprise. “Mrs. Langdon indicated that you’d been very pleased with your séance experience.”

“I was until recently,” Joslin ground out. He looked away from them, his jaw tense. “I don’t wish to discuss it.”

Hadrian leaned slightly toward the man. “Would it help you to know that we don’t believe the society is capable of what it claims? They perform cheap tricks and don’t actually communicate with the dead.”

Joslin shot his attention back to Hadrian. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.”

“How do you know they don’t speak to the dead?” Joslin sounded skeptical. “They … knew things that they could not have without communicating with the spirit realm.”

“They?” Hadrian asked. “Not Mrs. Frost?”

“I don’t know who exactly,” Joslin replied. He coughed and looked away again.