Wait Until Midnight (30 page)

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Authors: Amanda Quick

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Historical Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Wait Until Midnight
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"How did you know that?" Adam asked.

Bess raised one shoulder in a matter-of-fact manner. "A housekeeper sees things that others don't notice. Mrs. Toller

and her friend had been getting together on special evenings for a few months. They had their habits?'

"Such as?" Caroline asked.

"Little things. She kept a bottle of his favorite brandy on hand. It was their custom to drink some before they got down to their more personal business. The glasses they used were always left out on the table in the parlor. But there were no glasses the morning after Mrs. Delmont was murdered"

"What else was different?" Adam asked.

"Mrs. Toller was in her dressing gown when I arrived that day but she was acting very strange. I thought perhaps she was suffering from an attack of nerves or the like. And her bed was made up. She never would have made her own bed. I don't think she slept at all that night. But the thing that chilled me to my bones was what I found in her wardrobe?'

"What was it?" Caroline asked.

"It wasn't what was there, it was what was missing." Bess looked knowing. "Her new gown was gone. It was her favorite. Very expensive it was, too. He had paid for it. A dress like that just doesn't up and vanish?'

Caroline tensed. "What happened to it?"

"I asked her that very question?' Bess folded her hands on the table and bowed her head. "Mrs. Toller told me that it had been ruined the previous day when a passing carriage had splashed mud all over it. She told me that she had sent it off to a charity house. But I knew that wasn't the truth. She had never given so much as a penny to any charity as long as I had
known her. She
said they were all frauds."

"What
do you think happened
to
the
dress?" Caroline asked.

"She hid it in one of the secret compartments in the séance room," Bess said tightly. "I found it quite by accident when I was straightening up the chamber for the séance that you two attended. I couldn't understand what it was doing in the secret cupboard. Then I saw all the dried blood on the skirts. I knew right off what Mrs. Toller had done. I was scared to death, I can tell you"

"I don't blame you." Caroline shuddered.

"Yes, ma'am." Bess sighed. "Knew I'd likely have to look for another position."

"What did you do with the dress?" Adam asked.

"Put it straight back into the cupboard and pretended I never saw a thing." Bess shrugged. "Doubt if she had a chance to get rid of it before she was killed. It's probably still there unless the police found it."

They sat for a while, drinking the tea and watching one another in the light of the flaring lamp.

He studied the frightened woman. "You told us that you ran away the morning you found Mrs. Toller's body be-cause you feared both the killer and the police."

"Yes, sir," she said glumly. "I was terrified that the police would think I'd killed Mrs. Toller because we'd argued about my wages. The neighbors heard us. But I was also afraid that her lover might decide that I knew too much about their business and come after me"

Adam gripped the mug more tightly. "Business? Do you refer to the fraudulent investment schemes Mrs. Toller operated?"

"You know about those, do you?" Bess looked more miserable than ever. "Right you are, sir. That's why Mrs. Toller and I quarreled, you see. I figured out that something quite profitable was going on and that she was sharing the income with him. I told her that since I was assisting her, I deserved a portion of the profits. She warned me to keep lent. Threatened to let me go without a reference. I told

her that if she did, I'd expose her tricks. It was a very heated argument and I expect some of the neighbors heard the shouting."

"I have a few more questions for you, Bess," Adam said. "And then I am going to give you enough money to take the train to wherever you wish and stay there until we have found Mrs. Toller's killer and turned him over to the police."

For the first time Bess looked cautiously hopeful. "That's very kind of you, sir. What more do you want to know?"

"Do you have any notion of why Mrs. Toller's lover murdered her?"

Bess hesitated. "I've been thinking about that. I expect it was because he knew that she had murdered Mrs. Delmont and was afraid of what she might do next in her great rage. Perhaps he feared she might expose him and the in-vestment scheme. Like I told you, whoever he is, he's a very secretive sort."

"Would you please tell me exactly what you saw when you found Mrs. Toller's body?" Adam asked.

Bess gave that some close consideration. "There was a lot of blood. He'd bashed in her skull, you see. She was lying on her back. There was a pocket watch on the floor beside

her. The room was in a shambles. I remember thinking

that it was just like the way Mrs. Delmont's death had been described in the papers. That seemed odd because I knew that Mrs. Toller, not her lover, had killed Mrs. Delmont. Couldn't understand why he went to all that trouble to make it look the same."

"Was there anything else on or near the body that seemed unusual?" Adam asked. "Some type of mourning jewelry or a veil, for instance?"

Bess's brow furrowed. "No, sir. I didn't see anything like that."

"One last question, Bess," Adam said. "Were you the who sent the messages summoning Mrs. Fordyce and to Mrs. Toller's house the morning after the murder?"
Bess
looked quite blank. "No, sir. I didn't send any mess. I was too busy packing my things and trying to find place to hide."

Caroline got into the carriage and sat down across from

Adam. She was feeling decidedly odd, an unsettling mix of excitement and exhaustion, she concluded. She tried to pull her scattered thoughts into some semblance of order. "If Bess is correct, then it would seem that Mrs. Toller did ed kill Elizabeth Delmont in a jealous rage," she said. t it was not professional jealousy that drove her; rather, it the more traditional, personal sort. She had discovered that her lover had betrayed her with another woman" "Yes." Adam lounged moodily in the shadows. "Toller must have been the one who left the wedding veil, the shed watch and the mourning brooch at the scene of
 
Delmont's death. The question is why?"

"Perhaps those items had some symbolic meaning for
her.
But in that case, who removed them?"

Adam looked at her from the shadows. "The lover who s also the business partner? He may well have planned a tryst with Delmont that same night. If so, he would have found the veil and the brooch with the body, just as I did.

' Perhaps he feared that if the police discovered them, they

would raise questions that he did not want answered." "Because those answers might have implicated him in

some
fashion?"

"It is the only possibility that seems logical, at least at this moment."

Caroline couldn't help herself. She patted a small yawn. "What do you intend to do now?"

"I am going to take you home and then I am going to get some sleep. It has been a very long night"

THIRTY-SIX

He got the message from Bassingthorpe late the following afternoon. The old forger received him in a comfortable house tucked away in an unmarked lane.

Bassingthorpe squinted at Adam through a pair of spectacles and heaved a weary sigh. "Eyes aren't what they used to be. Leave most of the fine work to my grandson these days. He's got talent, right enough."

"But you still look after the business, I assume?" Adam said.

"Certainly" Bassingthorpe snorted. "Can't be too careful in this profession. Teaching my granddaughter that side of the trade. She's no artist but she has a head for numbers and she's got the sort of common sense it takes to avoid trouble?'

"Your grandson produced the stock certificates, then?" Adam asked.

"Yes, indeed," Bassingthorpe stated proudly. "Rather nice job, if I do say so myself. He's as good as I was at
his
age.'

"It is the client who interests me," Adam said.
"In the
past, you were always very cautious in your business dealings."

Bassingthorpe raised one finger in an admonishing manner. "First rule of success in the profession is Know thy client. It is those who get greedy and take on any commission that comes along just for the sake of the money who land in prison."

"I have reason to believe that the person who commissioned the stock certificates from you may have murdered a woman. Irene Toller, the medium, to be specific."

Bassingthorpe frowned. "I say, are you certain of that?"

"Not entirely. I am still in the process of making
in
quiries."

"Huh" Bassingthorpe put his fingertips together and looked wise. "I've had a great deal of experience with: clients, as you well know. Wouldn't have said this one was , the murderous sort. More of a man of business"

"You may be correct. But either way, he is a link in the chain that I am following. I am very eager to locate him"

"You know I'll be glad to help you. I owe you one or two favors from the old days. Always pay my debts"

"I am very grateful, sir." Adam rested his arms on the sides of his chair. "The description I have been given is that of a heavily whiskered man who walks with a severe limp."

Bassingthorpe chuckled. "He affected that appearance when he met with me, also. But I took my usual precautions. Made certain that we met on neutral ground so that he did not have my address, and I set one of the lads who works in the shop to follow him after we came to an agreement."

Anticipation flashed through Adam. "The boy was successful?"

"Certainly. Young Harry comes from the same sort of neighborhood that you came from, Adam. No one knows more about following a man through the streets than a lad who was raised on them, eh?"

"What did young Harry discover?"

"Among other things, your man is a rather accomplished actor. He maintained his disguise right up until the moment hen he entered the back door of his lodgings. But then such talents are no doubt a requirement in his trade"

"And just what is his line?" Adam asked.

"Why, he's in the psychical research business. Gaining quite a reputation, too. I understand he gave a most astonishing performance for the police the other afternoon. Claimed he could help them identify the villain who murdered the mediums"

"Please come in, Mrs. Fordyce." Durward Reed ushered her into his cluttered office and motioned her to a chair. "I can-not tell you how much I appreciate your time today. I under-stand that you are an extremely busy person, what with your writing and your, uh, other affairs." He broke off, reddening. "I refer to the social demands that are made upon you due to your connection to Mr. Hardesty, of course"

"Of course." Caroline sat down and adjusted the heavy folds of her green gown. She pretended not to notice Reed's moment of awkwardness. A woman who was engaged in an affair with a notoriously mysterious and powerful gentle-man had to become accustomed to the occasional social lapse on the part of others. "I was delighted to receive your message. I appreciate your interest in my novels."

"Yes, indeed, I am a great admirer of your work, both as a publisher and as a reader." He motioned toward a tea tray. "May I pour you a cup?"

"Thank you."

While he busied himself with the pot and two cups, she took advantage of the opportunity to look around the office. It was not unlike Spraggett's domain, littered with papers, books and files. One entire shelf was crammed with old copies of
New Dawn.

A photograph of the queen occupied a place of pride on one wall.

"My wife, Sarah, was very fond of novels. I'm sure she would have enjoyed your stories" Reed set a cup of tea on the table beside Caroline. "She was a medium of great power. Sadly, I lost her several years ago. Some monstrous villain attacked her the morning after our wedding night while she was walking in the park across the street."

"I am sorry for your loss, Mr. Reed."

"Thank you. It is my most fervent desire to contact her on the Other Side. Indeed, I have dedicated my life to that project"

A chill slithered through Caroline. "I see"

He moved one hand to indicate the office and the huge, dark mansion that seemed to press down upon them. "She was the last of her family. This house was part of her inheritance. I stayed on here after her death because I felt certain that it would be easier for her spirit to return to the place that had been her home in her earthly life."

"I understand."

"As the years passed and no contact was made, I de-voted myself to the study of psychical research. I established the Society and I try to encourage mediums and others who are interested in such matters. It is my hope that someone more gifted than I will help me find the answers I seek"

"You have contributed greatly to the field of psychical research, Mr. Reed." Out of politeness she tried another sip of the strong tea. The milk and sugar made it palatable, but just barely.

Reed folded his broad hands on his desk. Caroline noticed that he wore mourning cuff links fashioned of jet and silver.

"Everything I have done since Sarah's death has been guided by my hope of contacting her," he said. "But thus far, it has all been to no avail."

"It may be that such things are not meant to be," she suggested as kindly as possible.

He frowned. "If that were so, mediums such as my Sarah would not exist. She really did possess the most amazing gifts, Mrs. Fordyce. There is no doubt in my mind. Knowing that is what gives me the resolve to press on with all forms of psychical research. Sooner or later, I will find a medium who will be able to contact her. When that happens, I will not only be able to communicate with Sarah, I will prove to the world that psychical investigation is a legitimate field of science."

"I know that you are not alone in your convictions, sir." She paused delicately. "And I wish you well in your explorations. But I believe that you asked me to come here today to discuss more mundane business?"

"Not mundane at all, madam. I have been searching for ways to expand the readership of
New Dawn
and also membership in the Society. It is my firm belief that the more people who study psychical matters, the more likely we are to make a breakthrough."

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