Page 40 of A Whisper and a Curse (Raven & Wren #3)
A fter a poor night of sleep that not even two snifters of brandy could ease, Hadrian was eager to see Tilda. The Daily News had contained a rather sensational story by none other than Ezra Clement about the latest victim of the Levitation Killer.
Hadrian wondered how quickly Clement must have written the article, for it included Mallory’s arrest, which had occurred late in the day. It also held many other fascinating details that Hadrian was anxious to discuss with Tilda.
Tilda was ready to depart when he arrived. Garbed in her gray gown, she looked smart and beautiful. Hadrian kept himself from complimenting her.
When she settled on the forward-facing seat, Hadrian noted that she sat closer to the side of the coach as she had the day before. He took that as a silent invitation for him to sit beside her again. So he did.
She’d meant to calm him yesterday with her proximity, and he had no quarrel with that. On the contrary, he’d liked her concern very much. And she had eased his agitation.
“How is your cheek today?” Tilda asked once they were on their way toward Montpelier Square to call on Douglas Joslin.
“It does not pain me,” Hadrian replied. “Mallory’s strike caused only fleeting irritation.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” She angled herself toward him on the seat. “Did you by chance read the Daily News this morning?”
Hadrian faced her as well. “I was going to ask you the same. Clement’s article was most illuminating.”
Tilda pursed her lips. “As an investigator, I am disappointed to learn things from him, but I suppose I must not complain. It is good to have the information however possible. He’s interviewed several people connected to the society—or tried to anyway.”
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.”
“ You assist her ?” 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.
“What things did they learn from the spirit realm?” Tilda asked.
Joslin sent her an apologetic glance, his cheeks turning pink. “I’d rather not say in front of you, Miss Wren.”
Tilda nodded. “I do understand, Mr. Joslin. I am not sure if you are aware that Mr. Mallory, the head of the spiritualism society, was arrested yesterday. Among other crimes, he has been accused of blackmail. Your name was listed in his diary, and we wondered why.”
Their host sucked in a breath. “You think he …” He exhaled. “Yes, I was blackmailed.”
Hadrian exchanged a look with Tilda, and though her expression was benign, he could see the light of triumph and curiosity in her eyes. He gave her a subtle nod before addressing Joslin. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me what happened.”
Tilda rose. “I’ll wait in the entrance hall.” She smiled at Joslin. “We appreciate your assistance with our investigation, Mr. Joslin.”
She left, and Hadrian gave Joslin a frank stare. “If you prefer that I not share what you tell me today, I will not. However, if you have information that could help with the prosecution of Mallory, that would be most helpful.”
“I don’t know if I can help you.” Joslin’s brow creased as he wiped his palms along his thighs.
“I never met Mallory. I went to two séances led by Mrs. Frost. I attended to converse with my brother. He’d died unexpectedly.
” Joslin met his gaze with a frown. “Though she was unable to reach him at the first séance, she found success at the second. He seemed to speak to me through her. But you’re saying that was fakery? ”
“We believe so. The mediums seem to have certain skills they use to make guesses about people that are accurate enough to appear as though they have some knowledge.” Hadrian had no choice but to lie. He couldn’t very well tell Joslin about Mallory seeing others’ memories.
Joslin blinked. “They aren’t really speaking to the spirit realm?”
“No. The society is a money-making scheme run by its leader, Lysander Mallory. I am sorry you were duped by them.”
Joslin’s eyes rounded as he stared at Hadrian. “I paid a good sum for that second séance, and then they blackmailed me as well.”
Hadrian wasn’t surprised, given the man’s reaction when Tilda had mentioned blackmail. “Do you have proof? Scotland Yard would very much like to see it and hear your testimony.”
“Er, I no longer have the letter I received.” Joslin flushed. “I paid the money and burned the letter. I’d hoped that would be the end of it.”
“Perhaps you could explain what happened?” Hadrian asked. “That would be helpful.”
“You say they lied about speaking to the spirit realm, but there is no other way they could have obtained the information they used to extort me. The only other person who could have known died.” The man looked away.
Damn, that would be hard to explain without revealing how the medium had really obtained the information—from Mallory. Though Hadrian could not tell Joslin the truth, he wanted to confirm that Mallory had used his power to mine this man’s memories. “Did you ever meet Mr. Mallory?”
Joslin’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure. Remind me what he looks like?”
“Blond hair, intense dark eyes. He’s quite affable. I’m sure you would have liked him.” Hadrian kept himself from sneering.
Giving his head a shake, Joslin said, “I can’t be certain.”
Disappointed to not have the confirmation he sought, Hadrian returned to Joslin’s tale. “There is absolutely no one else who could know the information they used to blackmail you?”
Joslin made fleeting eye contact with Hadrian as he clenched his jaw. “Several years ago, I had a mistress and she … was increasing. I was afraid my wife would learn that I had been unfaithful.” He glanced toward the upper floor of the house. “She’s not home just now.”
Hadrian froze when the man said he was afraid. That did not bode well. “What happened?”
Joslin paled. “I paid for a surgeon to remove the babe. Abigail—my mistress—did not survive.”