The Medium (Emily Chambers Spirit Medium Trilogy #1) (18 page)

I do so like
having my own ghost for protection. I wasn't sure what Jacob would use as a
weapon—he couldn't use his fists on someone who couldn't see him—but I didn't
care. His presence alone was enough for me.

I lifted my head
and met Blunt's gaze. Jacob shot a small smile my way. "That's it,"
he said.

"I was
looking for Mrs. White and my friend George Culvert," I said to Blunt. "I
believe they came this way. I've got a headache you see, so I waited in the
drawing room while they looked for a suitable new maid." I pressed my
fingers to my temples and feigned discomfort. Blunt's expression didn't change
so I couldn't be sure if he believed my little act or not. "Unfortunately I
don't feel any better so I was looking for George to ask him to take me home."

Blunt's
moustache twitched and two wet lips appeared through all that hair. I think he
was smiling at me. Or not. It was hard to tell. "Who were you talking to
just now?" He looked over my head down the corridor. "There's no one
here."

He'd heard me!

"Tell him
your name," Jacob said, "and let him make his own conclusions." He
chuckled darkly.

"Forgive
me, I haven't introduced myself," I said sweetly. "My name is Emily
Chambers and I—."

"Chambers!"
Blunt's eyes widened. "The spirit medium?" His gaze quickly flicked
past me again, side to side, over his shoulder then back to me once more before
going through the routine again.

Perhaps my
reputation wasn't such a bad thing after all. I tried to keep my satisfied
smile to myself. "The very one," I said.

He shuffled closer
then bent almost double to speak to me at my level. He reeked of cigar smoke. "A
ghost haunted me last night. You weren't, ahem, talking to it just now by any
chance?"

I dropped my
voice to match his. "I can't discuss that with you. Professional reasons,
you understand."

Jacob tipped his
head back and laughed. It was very difficult not to laugh along with him.

"Ah." Blunt
nodded and straightened. "Yes, of course, you and your sister have to make
a living. No one knows about the necessity of a good business ethic more than
me." He puffed out his barrel-sized chest, which pushed out his waistcoat and
tightened the pocket watch chain. I kept one eye on it in case it snapped and I
had to quickly get out of the way of any flying links. "I called on you
both this morning but you were out," he said. "Perhaps you could have
your sister contact me to schedule an appointment. I am in great need of your
services."

"Of course."

"Tell her
it's urgent."

"She's
always prompt."

"Good,
good. Now to that headache of yours. Can I have someone bring you a draft?"

"No thank
you, I'll be fine once I get some rest."

"Tell him you're
here because Maree Finch left Culvert's employment after stealing a book and
you need another servant," Jacob said. "Mention what the book was
about too. I want to see his reaction."

I did and
watched Blunt's face. All that facial hair made it nearly impossible to gauge
his thoughts but his eyes gave away his sharp interest.

"I see,"
he said, thoughtful. "Demonology you say. An unusual topic."

"Mr.
Culvert and I suspect Maree stole the book for someone else," I said. "Her
brother perhaps."

The ragged ends
of his beard twitched as his lips pursed. "You ask a lot of questions for
a girl."

I wasn't sure if
that was a slight on my age or my sex or both. Either way, it rankled. "Professional
curiosity," I said.

His eyes
widened. "You think Tommy Finch has something to do with the haunting here?"

I put my finger
to my lips. "Lower your voice please, Mr. Blunt. We wouldn't want to alert
the spirit to our suspicions."

"You're
very good at this," Jacob said. "Have you considered performing on
the stage?"

It really was
difficult to ignore him when he was in such a good mood. Actually, it was
difficult to ignore him at any time. He was simply so...obvious. "I need
to consider all possibilities," I said to Blunt, "particularly where
a book on demonology is concerned."

"Yes, of
course." The schoolmaster clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on
his heels. He appeared to be thinking hard, deciding whether to say something
or not. Finally he spoke. "So you think the stolen book has something to
do with the haunting?"

"Perhaps. It
is a remarkable coincidence. The book goes missing then Maree goes missing and
a disgruntled spirit pays you a visit."

"You are
wicked for letting him think there's a link," Jacob said with a grin. "I
like it."

"So tell me
about Tommy Finch," I said. "Has he returned to the school since his
departure?"

"Absolutely
not." Blunt's beard shook with the vigor of his denial. "We don't
allow pupils who've left us to return. Not ones like Tommy Finch. He's no good.
A bad seed. I hope his sister hasn't joined him in his illicit pursuits. She
was a good girl, reliable and quiet. I like the quiet ones."

Jacob bared his
teeth in a snarl, all hint of humanity gone.

"Let's hope
she's safe somewhere," I said quickly, keeping one eye on Jacob. I didn't
think
he would hurt Blunt but I couldn't be certain about anything where Jacob was
concerned. He was proving to be unpredictable.

"This
demonology book," Blunt went on. He stroked his beard and paused for
several beats. Eventually he sighed and shook his head. "I'd better tell
you. It might be important."

"Yes?"
I prompted when he hesitated again. He had my full attention, and Jacob's too. My
ghost had finally stopped glaring daggers at the schoolmaster.

"A
gentleman from the school's board mentioned demons to me quite recently."

"How does
one casually slip demonology into a conversation?" Jacob said.

"In what
context?" I asked Blunt.

Blunt waved a
hand, dismissive. "We were simply discussing our private interests, away
from work you understand, and he said he belongs to the Society for
Supernatural Activity and has a particular interest in demons." The
organization's name sounded familiar. "Indeed, he mentioned your friend
Culvert as also being a member with the same interest."

Of course! George
belonged to the same society. So this board member probably knew about George's
extensive library on the subject. The coincidence was too close for my liking. "When
were you talking to him?" I asked. "Could Maree have possibly
overheard the conversation?" Or was there some other tie-in with her
brother? Or were neither of them involved at all?

More
beard-stroking from Blunt. "I can't recall. It was some weeks ago I think.
Whether she heard or not..." He shrugged mountainous shoulders.

"What's his
name?"

"Leviticus Price.
He's a generous benefactor to the school and takes an active interest in our operations.
He has some excellent suggestions for improvement, which I naturally try to
instigate where possible. Perhaps your friend Culvert can ask him the questions
you just asked me when next he sees him at a Society meeting. I'm sorry I can't
help you further."

"I bet he
is," Jacob muttered.

Mrs. White and
George joined us then. Both looked concerned to see me but probably for
different reasons.

"Emily?"
George came to my side and gently took my elbow. "You must have been
looking for me." I think he said that for everyone's benefit, or perhaps
to guide me into an answer. Little did he know I'd already successfully
navigated my way through a series of lies.

"Has your
headache gone?" Mrs. White asked, her gentle eyes searching my face.

"It's
worse," I said, pressing my fingers to my temples. "I was looking for
George to ask him to take me home but I encountered Mr. Blunt."

George gently rubbed
his thumb on my sleeve. The motion was soothing, his smile even more so. "I'll
take you home now."

Jacob folded his
arms over his chest. "He does know the headache isn't real, doesn't he?"

I allowed George
to lead me down the corridor behind Mrs. White. Blunt didn't join us. Jacob,
oddly, disappeared. I thought he'd walk with us but apparently he had better
things to do. I tried not to let my disappointment show. I had wanted
him
to walk me home, not George.

Outside, swollen
gray clouds plunged the street into further shadowy darkness. Women pulled in
washing strung up between buildings and one or two men carried umbrellas,
although most didn't. It wasn't the sort of area where the people could afford
them. I wished I'd brought mine with me or George had. As it was, we'd likely
be drenched before we reached my house.

"Stay close
to me," George said. He still held my elbow but his touch had gone from
soothing to hard, his thumb digging into my flesh. "And hold on tight to
your reticule. We don't want to tempt any thieves."

I did as he
suggested and kept my wits about me as I told him all I'd learned from Blunt. He
seemed surprised at the mention of Leviticus Price.

"I don't
know him well," he hedged, "but...are you sure it was him Blunt
mentioned?"

"Leviticus
Price is not the sort of name to mishear. Why?"

"It's just
that he's—how can I put this?—not someone I thought would take an interest in a
school for the poor." He shook his head. "Perhaps I'm doing him an
injustice and there's another side to him than what I've seen at Society
meetings."

"Blunt did
say Price is generous with his advice."

"Well Price
does like to give advice away in droves and he's not short of it either."

A small boy
scampered past me, very close, but George pulled me aside before we could collide.

"Pickpocket,"
he mumbled.

"We don't
know that for sure."

"It's a
common ploy used by children of crime."

"What ploy?"

"Bump into
their target and in the ensuing confusion, delve into their pockets. But you're
safe, he didn't touch you."

"Who didn’t
touch you?" Jacob asked, popping up beside me and quickly falling into
step with us.

"Hello, Jacob,"
I said for George's benefit. "No one bumped me."

"Then why's
he holding you?"

George wasn't
holding me, just my elbow but I didn't think Jacob would appreciate the
difference. He seemed annoyed at poor George for some reason.

George was
oblivious of course. "Good afternoon, Beaufort," he said, deepening
his voice in that self-conscious way that some men do when speaking to other
men. "Were you with Emily in there?"

"He was,"
I said, extricating my elbow from his grip.

His lips formed
a pout. "Oh. Right." He cleared his throat. "Good show with
Blunt in there, both of you. He didn't suspect a thing."

We turned into a
busier street that was no less grubby but far more crowded. There were more ragged
children playing in the gutters, more washing hanging over our heads and more
hawkers selling goods from carts or baskets. A man dressed in a tall hat and a
jacket too large for his slight frame tried to interest George in a meat
pudding from his cart but George waved him away without addressing him.

"Where did
you go?" I asked Jacob. "Did you stay to listen to Mrs. White and
Blunt?"

"I did but
they returned to their respective offices without speaking to one another."
Considering this disappointment he looked rather pleased about something. "So
I paid those three boys a visit. They were quite talkative."

I repeated the
conversation so far for George's sake. "Go on," I said to Jacob when
I'd finished. "What did the boys say?"

"They were
arguing among themselves about whether you were searching for Maree because you
were genuinely concerned for her welfare as you claimed, or to have her
arrested."

"Arrested! For
stealing a book? Goodness, who would do something like that to the poor girl?"

George's step
faltered and he almost tripped over his own feet. He pushed his glasses up his
nose and gave me a quick, unconvincing smile. "Who would indeed?"

Jacob grunted. "Anyway,
opinion was divided with only one of them on your side, the one called Fife. He
wanted to know why the boy named Harry didn't tell you about Tommy Finch's last
visit to the school only three nights ago."

"Three
nights!" I stopped. George halted alongside me and waited patiently while
I spoke to Jacob.

"Yes,"
Jacob said. "
After
Maree stole the book."

I told George
what Jacob had said. "Did he say who Tommy saw on his visit?" I
asked. "Another pupil? A teacher?" Or Mrs. White or Blunt themselves?

"No but I
got the feeling Finch returned to the school regularly and these three boys all
knew it."

"I wonder
what he wants now that his sister no longer attends," George said.