The Dark Between Part 10

The simple compliment didn't erase the horrors of the morning, but it was something.

When Kate finally sat down at the dining table, she couldn't help staring at Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. They looked to be dressed in their Sunday best. Mr. Thompson's suit, not nearly as shabby as his daily wear, had been carefully brushed, and his tiepin sparkled against the glossy red silk at his throat. His wife was dressed in her usual dark colors, but this particular fabric boasted sheen and a subtle stripe. Kate peered closer. The woman was wearing earrings, too.

"Is this a special occasion, Aunt?" asked Elsie brightly.

"We have a Society meeting tonight," Mrs. Thompson said. "Just a small gathering for the local members to plan the agenda for our London meeting Sat.u.r.day after next."

A rash of goose b.u.mps p.r.i.c.kled Kate's arms. "Would this be the Metaphysical Society, ma'am?"

"Indeed," she murmured, not meeting Kate's gaze.

"What exactly do you do at these meetings?" blurted Kate. "I mean, I know about the Society. I just wondered ..."

Mrs. Thompson smiled. "Don't worry, Kate. I'm glad to tell you. Usually we hear reports on recent findings and research. We might also discuss the latest publications on metaphysical subjects, and make plans for future meetings and conferences."

Recent research. Did that mean Mr. Thompson would be reporting on the frauds of Mrs. Martineau? Would they all laugh at Mr. Eliot for being duped into believing that a scrawny fourteen-year-old girl was a spirit apparition? The thought of Eliot's shocked silence, his plump lips tight with dismay, was deeply satisfying. But his shame was linked to hers, so Kate said nothing. She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Asher, who was frowning at his gla.s.s of wine.

Mrs. Thompson must also have noticed his expression, for her next words were directed at him. "I hope you don't mind keeping the girls company in our absence, Mr. Beale. We ask that you all stay in this building tonight. Certainly you must not venture outdoors, not with the recent disturbing incidents."

Her gaze quickly turned forbidding, and Kate nodded in compliance.

"Certainly, ma'am," Asher said.

Just as quickly Mrs. Thompson's expression turned affable again. "I know you three will have a lovely time together without the subduing influence of your elders. Of course Millie shall be at hand, should you need anything."

Kate stifled the urge to roll her eyes. By that she meant Millie's ears and eyes would be open, and her tongue ready to wag, should the three of them get up to any trouble.

"And you must not forget about our dinner party this weekend," continued Mrs. Thompson. "We intend to introduce Mr. Beale to our Trinity friends so that he might learn about the college, but we invite you young ladies to attend as well."

Kate nodded again, not certain what to say and noting that Elsie's smile lacked enthusiasm.

An hour later the three took their places in the sitting room. Asher stared at an unopened book in his lap while Elsie looked blankly in the direction of the window. Kate glanced at the clock and saw that it was only eight. She wasn't the least bit tired. It was still light out, for goodness' sake. Perhaps it was better to retire to her room than to sit in this frozen silence. And yet, if she sat alone in her room, her mind would turn to Billy.

"Miss Poole, isn't it about time you told us about your dead friend?"

Kate stiffened.

"What dead friend?" Elsie gasped.

"No one's told her, Poole," Asher said. "Why don't you explain? We could work through the evidence together."

"You know I don't wish to speak of it," Kate replied sharply.

"What are you two talking about?"

Asher closed his book. "She's been blackmailing me, Elsie, buying my compliance with threats of telling you that I stare at you when you're not looking. Well, of course I stare at you! You're a beautiful girl." He turned back to Kate, his cheeks spotted with color. "All right, you must spill it now. Start with the police calling for Mr. Thompson."

b.a.s.t.a.r.d. And yet she was impressed by this sudden appearance of a backbone. After considering them both for a moment-they did seem genuinely concerned-she cleared her throat and recounted the details leading up to the police station visit.

Elsie's eyes widened. "This body was found in Queens' Green yesterday? Why did no one tell me?"

"You retired early ... after your episode," said Asher.

Kate noted the strange look that pa.s.sed between them. "When I heard it was a young boy," she continued, "I feared it was someone I knew. A friend of mine-Billy was his name-had been missing since Sat.u.r.day night. So I asked Mr. Beale to accompany me to the police station to view the body, to confirm that it was my friend."

Elsie's brow furrowed. "You looked at the dead body?"

"She did," Asher said. "Most girls I know wouldn't have the stomach for it."

"I'm nothing like most girls."

"That much is becoming clear to me," he said quietly.

"Do go on, Kate," Elsie prompted.

"Billy was like a brother. We worked together for quite a long time." She paused, grappling for the right words. "I needed to be certain it was him. But I also wanted to know what happened to him. I thought if I saw the body, I would have some idea of how he died. I suppose neither of you has ever lost someone dear to you ... at least, not in such a peculiar way." She clutched at her skirt to still the tremor in her hands. "It's like a pain in your gut, the wondering."

They stared at her.

"I understand," Elsie finally murmured.

"You say you worked with this boy," said Asher. "What do you mean? What sort of work?"

Kate looked to Elsie for help, but it was clear the girl would provide no cover. Her eager expression was eloquent-Elsie wished to hear the answer as much as Asher. "Well ... we both worked for Mrs. Martineau. She's a medium, very popular with ladies and gentlemen of Spiritualist leanings. I heard once that she really did have psychic powers when she was younger. But since I've known her, she's relied on tricks and theatrics. She employs clever young boys from Castle End to search out clues on her patrons' dead loved ones. That's how she impresses them during her seances."

"And Billy was one of those boys?" asked Elsie.

"He was the best of the lot."

Asher leaned forward. "But what do you have to do with all this? You still haven't explained how you worked with this boy."

"When I was twelve and could no longer attend school, Mrs. Martineau hired me."

"To do what?"

Kate paused, steeling herself. "I performed during her seances ... as her spirit apparition."

Asher snorted. "Spirit apparition? And Mr. Thompson found you out?" He shook his head. "I'd share this with my father if I had any interest in corresponding with him-yet another example of fraudulent Spiritualists."

Kate shot him a dark look. "Your father is a member of the Metaphysical Society, isn't he?"

Asher winced. "How did you know?"

"I've seen a list of members. Your father numbers among them, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, and even"-she glanced at Elsie-"Baron Rolleston."

"My father?" Elsie gasped.

"Rolleston?" Asher frowned. "But your name is Atherton."

"Rolleston is his t.i.tle," Elsie said absently. "His name is James Atherton. I just ... it's difficult to believe he's a member."

"I'll show you the list later. If Baron Rolleston is not a member now, he was once." Kate paused before turning to Asher. "My own father was, too. Mr. Thompson shelters me because my father was Frederic Stanton."

Asher's mouth fell open. "I know that name. He was a friend to my family-Father even stayed at his house during one of his trips to England." He frowned. "But if you are Stanton's child, why is your name Poole?"

Kate hesitated. "I am Frederic Stanton's natural child," she said softly. "I was born before he married. As a matter of fact, he refused to marry my mother."

Elsie cast her eyes downward at this revelation. Asher merely stared.

"He supported us for a time," Kate continued. "When Mum died, I had to fend for myself." She looked away, not wanting to see their pity. "Do you know what this means? We are all children of Society members. Odd that we came together like this, don't you think?"

"I came here partly to escape all that metaphysical hok.u.m," Asher said. "My father's made a d.a.m.n fool of himself over it."

"After working with Mrs. Martineau," Kate said quickly, "I had plenty of doubts myself. I still don't understand precisely what the Metaphysical Society does. I thought Mr. Thompson came to the seance to expose Martineau as a fraud. But a book I found in the Summerfield library-the same one that listed our fathers and the Thompsons as members of the Society-devoted entire chapters to the belief that minds can communicate with each other without speech ... even across great distances."

Asher sighed. "My father calls it thought-transference."

"Yes, that's it," she said. "The action of one mind on another, but not just between living people. It also meant communication between a living person and one who is about to die or has already pa.s.sed on."

Elsie's face was pale. "Our fathers believed this?"

"That's what I don't understand," Kate said. "Are the members of the Metaphysical Society skeptics? Or believers?"

Asher stood abruptly and moved to the window. "My father is a Harvard scholar. He is renowned for his psychological research. But yes, he is a believer. In fact, he's trying to prove that some people have the ability to communicate with the dead. Personally I rather despise his methods of collecting data."

An awkward silence followed. Kate stared at the back of Asher's head, wondering at the anger that sharpened his tone. What exactly was behind this falling-out with his father? It had to be more than disdain for the man's beliefs.

"There are men of learning who believe in communication with the dead?" Elsie's voice was unsteady. "And my very own father may be one of them?"

Kate studied the girl as she clutched at the high neck of her blouse. "Elsie, are you all right?"

Elsie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "What did your friend Billy look like?"

Kate flinched. "Pardon me?"

Elsie lifted her hand. "Wait, don't answer that. Let me ask it in a different way. Did Billy wear a handsome jacket-well cut for a child of his size-and a trilby hat?"

A hot dizziness came over Kate, and she nearly swayed in her seat. "How did you know? Had you met him before?"

Elsie shook her head. "I'd never even heard of him until now. And yet I think I've seen him."

Asher turned from the window. "How?"

Elsie looked from him to Kate, her face pale and pinched.

"Wait here," she finally replied. "I'll show you."

Chapter 15.

Elsie paused on the staircase, the photograph clutched in one hand. How much was she willing to tell them? She'd known them a mere four days. And clearly, neither of them held much faith in visions of the afterlife.

But she had to show Kate this photograph. Once the girl saw it, she might believe.

The need to unburden herself was powerful. Secrets weighed heavily upon her, clinging to her like a second skin that itched to be sloughed away. And if the telling might actually help rather than harm, wouldn't that make the risk worthwhile?

What was the worst that could happen? Kate had no station, no power to expose Elsie, let alone have her sent to an inst.i.tution. Asher came from a prominent family, but he was young. He was smitten, too-even she could see that. He wouldn't wish to hurt her. Neither of them had any connection to her family, so they shouldn't feel threatened by her revelation. In fact, they might help her to better understand it. They were both clever and clearheaded, and Elsie had been wandering alone in a fog for too long.

Thus rea.s.sured, she continued down the stairs. She would show them the photograph. Then she would decide how far she wished to take matters.

They were both seated when she entered the room. Their silence unsettled her.

"I printed the photographs from this morning," Elsie said quietly. "They're in my bedroom-I'll show them to you later, if you like. But I also developed the photograph I took near the outbuilding. Do you remember? It was the day we first met."

"You wanted a photograph of me and Asher," said Kate.

"Yes," Asher said, "and afterwards you fell and ..."

"I had a seizure," Elsie finished for him. "Keep that in mind-it is important." She handed the photograph to Kate. "Look at this and tell me if you notice anything odd."

She watched as Kate studied the print. After a moment the girl's eyes widened. "My G.o.d, I see it." Her hand trembled as she pa.s.sed it to Asher.

He held the photograph near the lamplight, squinting. "I see a blur next to Kate, that's all."

Elsie held her breath, praying Asher would open his mind.

"But that blur has eyes, a mouth," Kate whispered. "It's wearing a hat."

Asher shook his head. "You see that because you're looking for it. Elsie already told you what to expect. I see a blur, or at most a double exposure."

"But I've taken no photographs of young children," Elsie said.

Kate frowned. "You said something about your seizure-that it was important. Why?"

Elsie sat down, panic tightening her throat. Was she really about to put this into words? She could barely breathe.

Kate lightly touched her arm. "Tell us, Elsie. Don't be afraid."

This is it. Now or never.

"Other than my mother, I've told no one of this." Elsie clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. "Mother could not accept it. In fact, I fear she despises me for it. I can't make you accept it, but I do ask that you keep what I tell you in confidence."