Peter Lovesey: A Case of Spirits

‘Can I have the candle over here, sir?’ asked Cribb, moving to the window. ‘I see you’ve had some repairs done.’ He indicated the shining heads of fresh nails that had been used to hammer the close-meshed wire netting back into place.

‘Naturally! I wasn’t having the ruffian come back for all my other pictures,’ said Dr Probert. ‘If he isn’t a professional picture-thief as you seem to suggest, what on earth did he do it for? Was it anything to do with the subject of the picture, do you suppose? I believe there are men about who look at pictures like mine for the wrong reason, if you follow me.’

‘Indeed,’ said Cribb solemnly, and added, without changing his expression, ‘Equally, it could be a man with a special interest in the classics, such as yourself. Whoever it is obviously knows a lot about the workings of your household.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘I’m certain of it. He chose the one evening when you and your family were out of the house, and the only servant at home was Hitchman, who is deaf. He knew where to break in and how to locate the gallery. Do many of your friends visit the house, sir?’

‘Precious few. I am far too occupied with my work to have a social life. Aren’t you going to measure the window, or something? All the others did.’

‘In that case, there’s no need for me to do the same,’ said Cribb. ‘My assistant, Constable Thackeray, is at Richmond police station at this moment going through the reports of the officers who first investigated the crime. I dare say they checked outside for footprints.’

‘Indeed they did,’ said Probert, ‘but they didn’t find any. It’s a tiled court out there. If you’ve finished, shall we go upstairs? I find it devilish draughty down here.’

‘You say you have no social life,’ said Cribb, as if he had not heard, ‘but Inspector Jowett mentioned a spot of table-turning that took place here.’

Probert cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘The seance? Yes, I had some people here the Saturday before last, but it was more in the nature of an experiment-an extension of my work, in fact-than a social occasion.’

‘Really, sir? I thought communicating with the spirits was all the rage at the moment. No party is complete without a medium, or so the gossip goes.’

‘Oh no,’ said Probert. ‘This wasn’t party games. It was a scientific experiment, the first of a series I have undertaken to conduct with the medium concerned. The next one is taking place on Saturday. We are merely searchers after the truth.’

‘I see. Who are these searchers, sir?’

‘Oh, I can vouch for every one of them.’

‘I should like to know their names, even so,’ said Cribb.

‘No, no, these were my guests. Respectable people, every one. I’m not having them subjected to an inquisition simply because they visited my house in the interests of science a few days before it was burgled. Blast it, I’d rather forget the whole damned thing!’

Cribb was not so lightly brushed aside. ‘One was Miss Crush, whose house you visited for a similar purpose on-’ he took out his notebook ‘-the 15th October. I shall be seeing Miss Crush this afternoon, sir. I expect she’ll give me the names, but I do dislike having to press a lady for information. It’s even more distasteful to me than bribing the domestics. But there you are-it’s my living.’

‘Bribing the domestics?’ repeated Dr Probert, aghast.

‘We only do it if the information ain’t forthcoming as it should be. No, I’ll put the screws on Miss Crush before I resort to that.’

‘Good Lord!’ said Probert. ‘Jowett promised to send somebody discreet. Look here, I’m not having that good lady victimised.’

‘Better tell me who was at the seance, then, sir,’ said Cribb in his most reasonable manner.

‘Very well, Policeman, but don’t push me too far. There were five people round the table that evening in addition to myself: Miss Crush; my daughter Alice and her fiance, William Nye; Henry Strathmore, a fellow scientist; and Brand, the medium.’

‘Wasn’t there someone else, sir?’

Dr Probert frowned. ‘I’m damned sure there wasn’t. Oh, I see!’ He gave a sheepish smile. ‘You mean the spirit visitor?’

‘No sir,’ said Cribb. ‘I was thinking of your wife.’

‘Winifred? She wasn’t there. She refuses to have anything to do with our experiments. She’s terrified of the supernatural. Won’t even walk through the churchyard to the Parish Church on a Sunday morning unless I take her firmly by the arm. She spent the evening of the seance locked in the bathroom reading back numbers of The Tatler. She said it was the place where a ghost was least likely to manifest itself.’

‘But your daughter must be made of sterner stuff.’

‘Ah, yes. You won’t have met Alice.’ Dr Probert’s face lit with pride. ‘There’s no question of it. She takes after me. She has the inquiring mind of the Probert side. No nonsense about Alice, I can tell you. She’d make a first-rate scientist, given the opportunity.’

‘I take it that she has some other occupation then, sir?’

‘Good God, no. She isn’t in employment, if that’s what you mean. She’s very active in the parish. Charitable work: distributing the produce of the Harvest Festival to the poor, and so forth. My word, yes. To see young Alice striding down the Hill with a marrow under her arm in search of a destitute family is a stirring sight, I promise you.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought there were many families of that sort hereabouts,’ said Cribb.

‘Quite so. She has the devil of a job locating them in Richmond. But she’s inexhaustible. And what she can’t dispose of we put to good use here. Nothing is wasted, I assure you. Look here, if you’ve finished looking at the window we’ll go upstairs to the civilised level of the house.’

They returned to the drawing-room where Mrs Probert was still seated. True to her account of things, Dr Probert ignored her presence altogether. ‘D’you smoke, Policeman? No? Then you won’t mind if I light a cigar, I dare say. Yes, I’m sorry you haven’t met Alice, but she’s already out on some charitable excursion, I dare say.’

‘Buying a hat in the High Street,’ said Mrs Probert.

‘Her fiance William is a public-spirited young fellow, too,’ continued Probert, as if nothing had been said. ‘Bought himself a commission in the East Surreys. That boy would be an asset to any regiment. Carries himself immaculately. I’m always reminded of a camel when I look at him-the supreme dignity of its bearing, you understand, nothing else.’

‘I shall make a point of looking for it if I meet him, sir,’ said Cribb. ‘You mentioned another guest-Mr Strathmore, was it?’

‘Yes. A highly respected figure in the field of psychical investigation. He is one of the LADS.’

‘The fast set, sir?’

‘No, the Life After Death Society. The members are all men of science interested in investigating the occult. I believe Strathmore is the secretary. He also happens to be the leading craniologist in London. I know him professionally, you see.’

‘Had he been to your house before last week, sir?’

‘No, there was no occasion for it. We took drinks together in our clubs and discovered a mutual interest in spiritualistic phenomena. When I decided to hold a seance at my house, I invited Strathmore. It was the obvious thing to do. He’s not the sort to help himself to another chap’s pictures, if that’s the way your suspicious mind is drifting. He’s a gentleman, damn it.’

So were several others Cribb could name languishing in Newgate, Wormwood Scrubs and Coldbath Fields, but he declined to mention them. He would form his own assessment of Strathmore later. ‘And was the seance worthy of Mr Strathmore’s visit, sir?’