A Death at Crystal Palace Page 5

  I pushed to the back of my mind the memories of my dream, but Madame Arcana read, at least, my continuing concern. ‘If you are thinking about the butler, McLeod, his fate is uncertain, but as your path joins with Mr Bertram, then so will your paths part and yet still cross.’ She gave herself a little shake and her eyes returned to normal. ‘Whatever happens, your little brother is far too young to ever be caught up in it all. Who knows but it may bring him good fortune in a backhanded way?’

  ‘You know about Joe?’

  ‘Eric gave me quite a full briefing about you, when he first acquired you as an asset. He checks these things out very thoroughly. Laboriously goes through the paperwork to gain his information. No matter how enigmatic he tries to appear, a lot of what he learns is through very ordinary leg work. I, however, get a lot of information from the other side.’

  ‘Ah,’ I said.

  Madame Arcana lent forward and tapped my hand lightly. ‘I mean the Germans, dear. What else could I have meant?’ She winked at me. Then she stood and showed me out of the booth. ‘Well, Miss St John, a most interesting reading, I am sure you will agree. I would be delighted if you chose to return for the séance later.’ Then she stepped back and disappeared behind the drapes. I was left standing alone in Crystal Palace. The autumn sun remained high and bright, but for me the day was now quite overcast.

  I found Richenda seated in a tea shop, sharing a plate of cakes and a cup of tea with Amy. She waved at my approach. ‘Do sit down. I’ll say this for the Germans, their pastries are wonderful and so filling. This chocolate torte looks so slim, but it has the weight of a thousand bricks – a thousand divine-tasting bricks, but I am sure I will not be able to move for hours.’ At this point she paused to insert a large section of a cream bun into her mouth. An expression of bliss crossed her face. Amy grinned at me.

  ‘So far we have not seen very much of the exhibition, Aunt Euphemia,’ she said. ‘Despite the clever shades, Mama was finding it rather hot, so I suggested we should have a pot of tea.’

  ‘And of course, where there is tea there must be cake,’ I said.

  ‘Of course, Aunt,’ said Amy with a perfectly straight face.

  ‘Pour your aunt a cup of tea,’ said Richenda. ‘Where’s Bertram?’

  ‘He met someone he knew,’ I said, accepting the tea and earning the favour of Amy but refusing the offer of the final fancy cake.

  ‘Men!’

  ‘Rory?’

  ‘Oh, McLeod wandered off to look at something German and mechanical. He could hardly act as my escort, could he?’

  ‘Hmm,’ I said, considering. ‘As a married lady you have a latitude that I do not. I had hoped he had stayed around. I have been invited to a séance and I hoped you might join me. It is not really for Amy.’

  Richenda’s eyes lit up. ‘How exciting.’

  ‘You may remember her. She once came to Stapleford Hall. A Madame Arcana?’

  ‘I was never entirely sure about her,’ said Richenda. ‘But I recall that she did favour you. Something about how death hung about you.’

  ‘Yes, well, I’d really rather it didn’t,’ I said quickly. Amy’s eyes had gone very wide.

  ‘I’m sure they have page boys,’ said Richenda. ‘I’ll page McLeod. He can take care of Amy. After all, he works for the family.’

  As Bertram remained missing I silently sacrificed Rory, who I knew had no love of child minding. He was promptly found and told of his duties. He took one look at my face and didn’t protest. Richenda gathered her various possessions - her umbrella, her bag, her scarves, her hair pins and hat pins that she always had inadvertently scattered about her person, her handkerchiefs that dislodged themselves from her sleeves and, of course, the testament to her enjoyment of the tea shop: a small molehill of crumbs.

  ‘I’m sure she never used to take so much around with her,’ I said in an aside to Rory. ‘Even her personal bag appears heavy, as if she has filled it with ashtrays and perfume bottles.’

  ‘Maybe she has,’ said Rory. ‘Woman seems odder to me than she ever was at Stapleford Hall. By the way, I thought I saw your Bertram off with yon mannie whose name we do not mention.’

  ‘Indeed. Is that why you accepted your charge without complaint?’

  ‘If the worst I have to do for King and Country on this day is mind a precocious wee brat, it’ll be a damn sight easier than what I’ve been called on to do before.’

  There was no way I could defend Fitzroy, so I simply nodded. Rory and I sighed in unison.

  ‘Do come in, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Madame Arcana holding back the drape herself. ‘I have managed to divert the flow of visitors away from my little tent, so we can be assured of absolute privacy. This will not only please the spirits but allow you to ask whatever questions you wish.’ She gave a little smile. ‘Of course, I have chosen a select grouping, but if you remain shy about voicing your enquiries, be assured: when in a trance, I can understand and convey meaning from the merest hint. However, I cannot vouch for the spirits. The terser your question, the more likely they are to respond in kind.’ She chuckled at this point. ‘They do like our attentions, the spirits. I find those that respond most quickly to the call of the medium are often the ones most bored on the other side.’

  We stood in an uncomfortable group outside the entrance that Madame Arcana held open. None of us, it appeared, wished to go first. ‘Excuse me for asking,’ said a gentleman to my left, in a slight German accent, ‘is she suggesting that Gott’s heaven is not a paradise?’ I looked round to see a dapper gentleman in his middle years regarding me with earnest brown eyes. My face must have registered surprise.

  ‘I am sorry if I have offended,’ said the gentleman. ‘I believe it is not the custom here, nor is it at home, to address a lady without introduction, but am I a religious man. I have only accepted this invitation to attend out of diplomacy. But if the - how do you say, inter-between person - is going to cast aspersions on Gott’s good graces I cannot enter.’

  ‘My dear sir,’ said Richenda, turning to speak before I could answer. ‘Have you heard of the Church of England? We founded Christianity. This is the most Christian country, and Madame Arcana is a good Christian woman.’

  The gentleman frowned at her confusing response, but before he could speak I said, ‘May I present to you Mrs Hans Muller, the sister of Richard Stapleford, of whom you may have heard.’

  ‘Indeed yes,’ said the gentleman, the frown remaining on his face. ‘He is most often visiting the fatherland and is well known among the upper levels.’

  I pursed my lips to prevent a smile. The German man’s accent was indeed slight, but his vocabulary needed some work. ‘May I introduce myself,’ I said, ‘without seeming forward, I hope? I am Euphemia St John and my widowed mother is shortly to marry a bishop. I cannot say she would approve of this entertainment, but neither would she cast me from her door. My own father was a vicar and he encouraged me to have an open mind as long as I held God’s tenets in my heart.’

  ‘He sounds like a very wise man,’ said the German. ‘I am sorry for your loss. I am Klaus Von Ritter. I am part of the delegation from Germany visiting our joint exhibition.’

  ‘I confess I have not yet had time to see much of exhibition,’ I said. ‘But I am looking forward to it. It is in such a wonderful setting and I have already had the opportunity to try a wonderful sweet called, I believe, a torte?’

  ‘Was it chocolate?’ said Klaus. ‘It is my own dear wife’s favourite.’

  ‘Yes, and quite delicious,’ I said, stepping back on Richenda’s foot before she could protest I had not tried the tart for myself.

  ‘May I enquire if you hope to hear from your deceased father?’

  ‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘My father was a most diligent man of the cloth and worked hard for all his parishioners. He rarely referred to his own demise except to say he felt he hoped to finally find some peace there!’

  At this the German laughed out loud. ‘I am sure your father and I w
ould have got along famously. These diplomatic tours are endless. Do not mistake me, I have all the time in the world for actual diplomacy, but these shows, exhibitions, dinners, etc., go on and on.’

  ‘I am sorry you are not enjoying our hospitality more,’ said Richenda snappily.

  Klaus flushed scarlet. ‘Ah, mein Gott, meine Frau. Es tut mir leid…’

  ‘What on earth is the man babbling about?’ said Richenda. ‘Has he gone mad? Do I need to call someone?’

  ‘I believe he has merely reverted to his native language,’ I said. ‘The heart of the matter is that he meant no offence.’

  ‘Humph,’ said Richenda. ‘If no one else is going first, then I will lead the way.’ She strode off.

  ‘Sprechen sie Deutsch, Fraulein?’

  ‘I am afraid not, sir, but your intent was clear. As one who has sat through sermons many times, I fully understand that even the best of events can become tedious.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Klaus. ‘Can I say it is a pleasure to meet a tolerant and intelligent young English woman.’ He paused. ‘You may not have heard but there were protests outside our hotel. I do not understand why some of your countrymen are so opposed to our presence.’

  ‘My father would have said we are all children of God,’ I said.

  Klaus smiled. ‘Indeed. Let us hope that those that make the big decisions do not forget that.’ He offered me his arm. I knew this my mother would disapprove of even more than my attending a séance, but for the sake of King and Country I took it. Besides, he appeared a very nice gentleman, whom I found fatherly in his manner. Our arms had barely linked before there was a flash of a camera. Klaus swore in German. I did not try and translate. A man, who had been lingering behind Klaus, and who I realised must have been some kind of aide, responded in the same language and urged Klaus forward. We entered the tent. I found myself seated between Klaus and a woman who smelled of fish. The odour was strong enough to make me want to reach for my handkerchief. I stole an askance glance at her, but she appeared to be dressed as a fashionable matron of status. The aide sat on the other side of her and kept up a diplomatic façade. Other than Madame Arcana, there was a young couple, who sat very close together, to the extent I felt certain he must be holding her hand under the table. Both of them appeared very nervous. And finally, there was a man so unremarkable that I assumed he must be one of Fitzroy’s men.

  Madame Arcana fussed with the lamps, dimming the lights and squeezing her amble frame around the table with many apologies. ‘I prefer not to have help with the preparations,’ she exclaimed, ‘the aura of others can pollute the setting. Now, if we are ready, please place your hands upon the table so your little finger is touching the little finger of the person next to you. A light touch if you please, and your own thumbs should be touching. Thus.’ She demonstrated. ‘This is the circle of invocation which I shall shortly activate. Should it be broken by any person here the spirits will flee, and I will possibly be endangered. Therefore, can I ascertain that all present are willing.’ She cocked her head to one side in the shadows and I imagined her smiling. ‘I do not ask you to be believers. Your belief or disbelief has no effect on my talent, but I do ask that you comply with my instructions. If you are not willing, or able, to do so, may I ask you leave the tent now. I only want those to remain who, on their honour, will obey the rules of the séance.’

  I thought it all a bit heavy-handed. Madame Arcana had been much more informal in our previous encounters. I assumed she was putting on a show for Klaus. I became quite enthralled as to what she might do for the sake of Fitzroy’s cascade.

  ‘Silence then please,’ she said. Then she gave the familiar medium’s call. ‘Is there anybody there who wants to speak to anybody here?’

  Silence reigned. Madame Arcana waited some moments, heightening the suspense. Then she repeated, ‘Is there anybody there who wants to speak to anybody here?’ Then she gave a low moan. Her voice, when it next spoke was lower in tone, ‘What the bleedin’ heck are you two up to? Dominic, you take that girl back home now. Shame on you.’

  ‘Uncle ’Arry?’ exclaimed the male half of the young couple. ‘We ain’t done anyfin’ wrong. You know that. But Edith’s mother, she don’t like me.’

  ‘Then you convince her otherwise, lad. Your mam raised you better than this. Poor wee thing is terrified. This ain’t no way to start a life together.’

  ‘But we’ll be in such trouble if we go back,’ said the young woman. Her voice cracked with tears.

  ‘It’ll be worse if you don’t, young lady. Take it from one that knows.’

  I heard Richenda give a little gasp of amazement.

  Madame Arcana’s voice changed yet again. ‘Hallo, my darling,’ she said in what came close to a well refined male voice, ‘How’s the little ’un?’

  The woman who smelled of fish cried out, ‘Oh, Edward, it that you?’

  ‘Yes, my love, it’s me.’

  ‘Maurice is doing very well at the prep school. Of course, he cried when we heard you were not found among the survivors, but he is young enough that…’ She broke down in tears. ‘Oh, Edward, tell me you didn’t suffer? Tell me you weren’t trapped below decks.’

  ‘No, my love. I was helping the ladies into the life boats. Passing over the children. They needed men to stay on the ship to keep order. I volunteered. I am sorry I left you, but I saw one young woman - who looked so like you - elbowed out of the way by a fat man in a dinner suit so he could take her place in the lifeboat.’

  ‘No,’ gasped the woman.

  ‘There were some acts of great heroism on the Titanic that night, but there were also men who showed themselves to be the basest of cowards. You could have come with me. That could have been you. I had to volunteer to stay. You understand, don’t you, my love.’

  ‘Oh, Edward!’

  ‘I can feel myself fading, my love. I will be gone soon. I will love you for ever.’

  ‘This is all a bit predictable, is it not,’ said Klaus softly to me.

  ‘At least she is giving comfort and good advice,’ I whispered back.

  Suddenly Madame Arcana’s voice shot up several octaves. ‘Charlie. Charlie-boy, are you there?’

  ‘I’m here, Charlotte,’ said the unremarkable man in a surly sounding voice. ‘Autumn sunshine consoles my soul, but my heart aches.’

  ‘Ooh, Charlie-boy.’ Madame Arcana giggled. ‘You aren’t half naughty. Uncle says you need more lead in your pencil. Time to get yourself some oysters. But not the French ones. He says they’re the ones that give you the runs.’

  Beside me I heard Klaus stifle a giggle. Richenda stiffened indignantly.

  ‘Now, now, Charlotte. There’s decent ladies and gents sitting at this table. You mind your manners. I’ve only come to see that you’re doing all right and not looking down on anything you shouldn’t.’ said the man.

  ‘I keep my peepers shut tight,’ said Madame Arcana continuing in the girlish voice. ‘I don’t know half of what Uncle talks about. I was a good girl. You know that, Charlie-boy. I never crossed a line. That would have been too naughty by half. But I hope you find the right girl, Charlie. One who can look after you proper like. Got the right stuff.’

  ‘That’s enough, Charlotte,’ growled the man. ‘You’ve taken up enough of these good people’s time.’

  ‘He is certainly a believer,’ whispered Klaus to me.

  ‘Maybe a regular,’ I whispered in return.

  ‘Hmm, yes, she would learn more about him each time,’ said Klaus thoughtfully. ‘You are most astute, my dear.’

  Madame Arcana returned to her normal voice. ‘I have another message, but I cannot understand it. Please be patient while I call on my spirit guide. I’m afraid she can be quite a mischievous thing.’

  ‘This gets more interesting,’ said Klaus softly but with amusement in his voice.

  ‘Ethel, dear, are you there? Can you help me, dear?’ said Madame Arcana. ‘There is an older lady who wants to speak with someone here, but I can
not understand her.’

  ‘Maybe she has forgotten to put her teeth in?’ whispered Klaus.

  ‘I’m busy,’ said Madame Arcana in a perfect rendition of a spoilt eight-year-old. ‘I want to play with my dollies.’

  ‘Now, dear, you have all the time in the world to play with your dollies. I only need your help for a moment. The older lady is getting very agitated,’ said Madame Arcana.

  ‘It’s mean to say I have all the time in the world,’ she answered in the child’s voice. ‘I’m not in the world anymore. I’m…’

  Madame Arcana cut in with her normal voice, ‘Don’t be difficult, Ethel, or I won’t use you again and you know how you like having someone to play with.’

  ‘Oh, I suppose so. She doesn’t like being referred to as old, but she looks like she died at a hundred and ten. Her face is all wrinkled like an elephant’s backside. She says her name is Alexandria. Alexandria Von something. Bitter?’

  ‘It cannot be! My grandmother was Baroness Alexandria Von Ritter,’ said Klaus to me.

  ‘It’s one of those foreign names,’ said Ethel. ‘She smells of mothballs and lavender.’

  ‘Lieber Gott. Es ist meine Oma. Ich bin hier, Grossmutter.’

  ‘She says her great-grandsons are in danger.’

  ‘Peter und Heinrich?’

  ‘She’s nodding. She says she sees them walking along a road. There’s a black cloud ahead. It reaches all the way down to the ground. They’re walking towards it. They’re walking slowly. They don’t want to be walking this path. They know there’s something bad inside the cloud. They don’t want to go there, but - they must? I don’t understand why they don’t go another way?’

  ‘Wo ist?’ said Klaus.

  ‘She says the cloud is big, very big. It’s the darkest storm she’s ever seen. It frightens her. It frightens a lot of people. It’s a bad, bad thing. She says Peter and Heinrich mustn’t go into the cloud. If they do they’ll die, but if the storm arrives, they’ll have no choice. I’m frightened, Madame Arcana. The old lady is scary. I won’t talk to her any more. She’s talking faster and faster now. I can’t keep up.’