Peter Lovesey - A Case of Spirits

‘So it does, ma’am. So it does,’ said Cribb. ‘Thackeray, you observed Miss Probert yesterday. Wouldn’t you agree that she has taken a stand for liberty?’

‘Yes, Sergeant.’ Thackeray blushed again, but Mrs Probert did not turn her eyes in his direction.

After they had gone, Thackeray took quick advantage of the restoration of free speech. ‘They don’t know about Miss Probert’s posing, Sarge! She hasn’t told them.’

‘Did you really think she would?’ asked Cribb. ‘If she had, I’m sure Dr Probert wouldn’t have allowed her to go to Maids of Honour Row yesterday morning. No, she satisfied them that she isn’t visiting a lover, and that was what they wanted to hear. I had doubts about the excursions myself when I saw the brush and comb in her basket. It was quite a reassurance to learn from you that it was all in the cause of Fine Art.’

‘But she’s taking a terrible risk by continuing to do it.’

‘I expect the painting isn’t finished yet,’ said Cribb matter-of-factly.

Thackeray’s face was a study. ‘How ever could a young lady as decently brought up as Miss Probert, with all her advantages, bring herself to do such a thing?’

‘Oh, it ain’t so remarkable if you know a thing or two about human nature,’ said Cribb. ‘I shouldn’t think a young girl would get much attention in that family, would you? It’s well-known that girls often idolise their fathers-how else can they get to understand the opposite sex-and they only ask a modicum of affection in return. But how much notice did Alice get from Dr Probert? He was too devoted to the nymphs disporting themselves round the walls of his gallery to take any notice of his daughter or his wife. So it’s logical that she should behave as she did; he had shown her only one way to win a man’s admiration.’

‘You make it sound quite sensible, Sarge,’ admitted Thackeray, who had never previously considered Cribb as an authority on the upbringing of girls. ‘The odd thing is that in spite of everything she seems to have won the admiration of Captain Nye.’

‘Hm. He’ll take some understanding,’ said Cribb, almost to himself. ‘Well, Thackeray, it’s time we reported to Inspector Jowett. Got to lay our plans for tomorrow night.’

‘Did I understand correct, Sarge? Are you going to reconstruct the seance at the Probert’s house?’

‘Quite correct,’ said Cribb. ‘It’s all arranged. Everyone has promised to be there. I shall want your help as well.’

‘Certainly, Sarge. But what are we trying to achieve?’

‘An arrest.’

‘Jerusalem! As soon as this?’

‘As soon as this my foot! We’ve been through all the evidence and talked to all the suspects. It’s just a matter now of showing how the thing was done and clapping the darbies on the murderer. I’d make an arrest today, but I think if we leave it till tomorrow we might get a confession.’

‘I’m sure I don’t know who’s going to confess,’ said Thackeray in a tone indicating that Cribb might have had the decency to keep his assistant fully informed. ‘It isn’t one of those two we’ve just been talking to, is it? Mrs Probert had a strong dislike for Peter Brand and his spiritualism.’

‘That may be so,’ said Cribb, ‘but she wouldn’t arrange for a visit from Professor Quayle on the night she was planning to commit a murder. And I can’t believe that Quayle would have gone upstairs if he had murdered Brand; he would have left the house at once, in hopes that nobody had seen him. No the act of murder had to be committed by one of the six people participating in the seance, as I shall demonstrate tomorrow evening.’

‘Six?’ There was a pause while Thackeray made a mental calculation. ‘Miss Crush, Dr Probert, Miss Alice Probert, Mr Strathmore, Captain Nye. Who else is there?’

‘Inspector Jowett.’

Thackeray grinned. ‘Haven’t you been able to eliminate him, Sarge?’

‘Not yet. I must admit there have been times. .’

‘I think he’s indestructible,’ said Thackeray, and when Cribb’s features promised to crease into the start of a smile he added, ‘Sarge, I’m still not completely clear how the murder was done.’

‘You’re not?’ said Cribb blankly.

‘If you know who done it, you must be certain how it was done,’ Thackeray persisted.

‘But I’ve been over all the evidence with you,’ said Cribb.

‘I appreciate that, Sarge, but I’d appreciate it more if you would tell me which piece of evidence told you how the medium was killed.’

‘The list of objects found on his body,’ said Cribb.

‘His personal possessions. I can remember them,’ said Thackeray. ‘There was a watch, a railway-ticket, a box of matches, a cigarette case, a key-ring, a wallet and some money.’

‘Well done,’ said Cribb.

‘The answer’s among that lot, is it?’ said Thackeray.

‘No it ain’t,’ said Cribb. ‘That’s the whole crux of it. It ought to be, and it ain’t.’

There was not much conversation being exchanged across the table in Dr Probert’s library, although every one of the original sitters had arrived, with the understandable exception of the late Peter Brand, whose place was taken by Sergeant Cribb. In keeping with rank, however, it was Inspector Jowett who called the gathering to order. The tension did not ease, but it now had a focus.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Jowett, ‘the circumstances of this evening’s gathering are unusual to say the least, and none of us can feel particularly comfortable at this moment. I do assure you that I should not have inflicted such an experience upon you unless it were necessary to the investigation of Mr Brand’s death.’

‘His happy release,’ interjected Miss Crush, who was dressed in black bombazine.

‘I beg your pardon, madam.’

‘In the Movement we do not speak of death, Inspector. If you like you may say that he has joined the choir invisible.’

‘As you please, madam. The point I wish to convey is that Scotland Yard is grateful for the co-operation of you all. Before we turn out the light I must ask you to behave exactly as you did on Saturday evening. Some of you-let us be perfectly candid with each other-assisted the medium in producing phenomena. I shall not go into the reasons for this; I simply appeal to you in the name of law and order to play your part in precisely re-creating the events of that seance.’

‘But how can we, without the medium?’ asked Alice.

‘Sergeant Cribb will play the part of the late Mr Brand,’ Jowett explained. ‘I have given him a full account of what happened.’

‘He is a sensitive,’ Miss Crush confided to the others in a stage whisper.

‘Shall we begin?’ said Jowett. ‘I believe you turned out the light, Doctor.’

Before the switch was turned, Cribb glanced rapidly round the table at the faces of his fellow-sitters: Miss Crush, on his right, eyes agape with expectation; Strathmore, by contrast grimly sceptical, even his monocle flashing hostility; Jowett with the fixed smile of a chairman anticipating trouble; Alice, dignified, demure and difficult to connect with Maids of Honour Row; Captain Nye, head erect as if in the front line of battle (and the Soudan campaign suggested itself here, for as Probert had once remarked, there was a striking resemblance to the features of a camel); and finally Probert himself, on his feet to switch off the light, red-faced and frowning, but visibly deflated since Saturday.

The light went out.

‘Kindly link hands,’ said Jowett, sounding oddly like a dancing-instructor.