Peter Lovesey - A Case of Spirits

‘I am profoundly grateful,’ murmured Miss Crush.

‘I’m sure you are, ma’am. And I have no doubt that the entire scientific world will share your sentiment if the experiment is successful.’

‘What is the object of the experiment, then, for Heaven’s sake?’ demanded Nye.

‘The object, William, is to produce, in scientifically controlled conditions, the total manifestation of a spirit.’

They had asked Inspector Jowett to take the galvanometer readings. There was sufficient light at the fireside to observe the tremors of the needle, and he squatted by the instrument with Strathmore at his side noting the information in a pocket-book. In different circumstances it would have pleased him to be invited to play an active part in such a crucial experiment. Tonight he had reservations.

Early in the evening he had begun to ponder the reason for his presence at the seance. On accepting Probert’s invitation to attend he had not given it a second thought. It was a mark of gratitude, a return for the small service he had rendered the doctor by arranging that Scotland Yard took over the burglary investigation.

But was it only that? As the scientific purpose of the evening had become increasingly clear, he had started to wonder whether there was not some other reason for his presence there; you did not, after all, select a team of scientific investigators on a social basis. Wonder had grown into something more disturbing when Strathmore had talked of publishing his findings in the Proceedings of the Life After Death Society. People reading extraordinary claims in scientific reports quite properly took an interest in the status and integrity of those who participated. There could scarcely be a more convincing endorsement than the presence of a detective-inspector of the Metropolitan Police.

It was worrying, confoundedly worrying. For whilst Probert had given his word to say nothing during the evening about the occupation and rank of his visitor from Whitehall, no promise had been given or requested to keep it confidential afterwards. In his report, Strathmore would expect to list the names and professions of all the witnesses, and very impressive they would appear: two ladies well known in the social circles of Richmond and Kensington, two distinguished men of medicine, an army officer and. . a detective-inspector of police. How Scotland Yard would receive the information that one of its senior detectives had seen a spirit hand was not to be imagined. And that was the less startling item on the evening’s agenda! Was it too much to hope that Uncle Walter’s spirit might have returned to the Other Side in a fit of pique?

The needle was steady at a reading of 205. For the purpose of the experiment the electric light had been disconnected, and the final preparations had taken place by candlelight. Probert had gone to some trouble to ensure that a good contact was made with the medium’s hands, by wrapping small squares of lint soaked in a saline solution round the handles of the chair. Other members of the party had been invited to sit in the chair and test the sensation of the electrical current. Miss Crush pronounced it ‘agreeably stimulating, like the tingle of champagne’; Strathmore found it ‘unobjectionable’; and Captain Nye said he could not feel anything at all. Before Brand took his place in the chair he agreed to be searched to make certain he had nothing concealed that might be used to fake a materialisation. At length everyone retired to the main part of the room, the curtain was drawn and the candles extinguished.

Five minutes passed without anything but a series of small snorts and sighs from Nye to register his impatience with the whole business.

‘Perhaps it would help if we all linked hands again,’ suggested Miss Crush. ‘Speaking personally, I find that it brings my thoughts more into harmony with other members of the circle.’

‘We’ve been into that already, madam,’ said Strathmore, before Nye had a chance to explode. ‘The medium says it isn’t necessary. Besides, Jowett and I have got to be over here with the galvanometer. Ah, there’s a movement!’

‘A drop to 196,’ said Jowett.

‘And that is at 10.20 p.m.,’ said Strathmore, writing it down.

‘He must have altered his position slightly,’ explained Probert. ‘The instrument is sensitive to the smallest fluctuations in the strength of the contact.’

‘I expect he has gone more deeply into trance,’ said Miss Crush.

The flickering illumination provided by the fire might have eased Captain Nye’s doubts about the propriety of the proceedings, but it put the sitters’ nerves to the test more rigorously, if anything, than pitch darkness. Their own shadows leapt about the shelves and walls of the library. Because the effect was unpredictable it was impossible to ignore. The sudden movement caught in the corner of one’s eye was almost certainly a shadow on the curtain- almost, but how could anyone be sure?

‘Here’s a change. 188,’ reported Jowett.

‘At 10.25 p.m.,’ said Strathmore.

A log shifted in the grate. There was a sharp indrawing of breath from somebody.

‘Compose yourselves,’ cautioned Probert. ‘If we all remain in control there is nothing to fear.’

Miss Crush at once raised her right hand with forefinger erect as if she was about to admonish her host. Instead she held it poised in front of her, her several rings glinting fiercely. After several seconds she announced, ‘I divine a presence. It is the same sensation as before, a chilling of the atmosphere. Oh yes, I am sure of it. There is a visitor in the room with us now.’

Strathmore accepted this information with scientific detachment. ‘A drop in temperature, you say? We should have taken thermometer readings, Probert. It would have provided more evidence for my report. Next time-’

‘Please do not be alarmed, anyone, but I am quite sure that a hand is stroking my hair,’ said Alice Probert suddenly. ‘It is quite all right, William. It means no harm. If everyone will only keep calm. . It wants to come among us.’

‘The galvanometer is steady at 188,’ said Jowett in a low voice. Someone had to remind the ladies to keep the observations on a scientific level. Heavens, if he was to be deprived by tonight’s doings of the chance of promotion to chief-inspector, it warranted something more sensational than a draught through Alice Probert’s hair!

As if in response to his thought, there was an astonishing development from behind the curtain, the sound of something, some being walking across the carpet.

The needle of the galvanometer had not moved from 188.

‘God save us all!’ cried Miss Crush.

From behind the curtain a voice shouted, ‘What’s the bloody game?’

‘It must be a spirit,’ Miss Crush declared in a stage whisper. ‘That is not the way Mr Brand speaks.’

Certainly the outburst had lacked the painstaking articulation of Brand’s utterances earlier in the evening.

The footsteps recrossed the study, moving more quickly.

The galvanometer had risen to 196.

‘Should someone look behind the curtain?’ asked Alice.

‘It’s a bloody liberty!’ said the voice.

‘I think we would be justified in doing so,’ said Dr Probert. ‘Strathmore, you are nearest. Would you be so kind?’

The representative from the Life After Death Society advanced gingerly to the curtain and pulled it far enough aside to look through. ‘Is everything quite in order, Mr Brand?’

‘No it ain’t,’ said the medium, and the voice was now recognisable as his. ‘Fetch Dr Probert in ’ere quick.’