‘It’s an extensive place, I understand,’ said Cribb. ‘If your uncle kept moving. .’
‘Quite so.’
Cribb skirted the table to examine the sideboard where the stolen vase had stood. At least a dozen others were on parade there in two ranks.
‘It isn’t missed,’ said Miss Crush, following him. ‘I simply changed the positions of the others and now you wouldn’t know that the Worcester had ever been there.’
For a collector, her unconcern was baffling.
‘I believe it was Japanese in style,’ said Cribb.
‘Yes. One of Hadley’s pieces. I gave a description to the constable.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. I’ve got a note of it.’
‘There are lots of them about, you know. I can find a replacement if I want one, and I’m not sure whether I do.’
‘Was it on display here on the evening when you had the seance with Sir Hartley Bratt and his family and Dr Probert?’
‘Oh, yes. I asked Mr Brand whether it was safe to keep the vases out during the seance. One frequently hears of articles being moved by the spirits-poltergeists do such things, you know. But Mr Brand assured me that the collection would be safe. I could see that he had a proper respect for my bits of crockery, because he couldn’t resist handling some of them as we were talking. That is the way they affect a man of taste. You need not hesitate to do the same.’
‘My thanks, ma’am,’ said Cribb, retaining a firm grip on the edge of the table behind him. ‘If I may, I’d like to put a question to you that you might consider impertinent.’
‘I don’t expect I shall,’ said Miss Crush, with an encouraging smile.
‘Very well. How much did you pay Mr Brand for his services as a medium?’
‘His fee was ten guineas. I gave him a little extra because it was such a productive seance. Lady Bratt saw a spirit hand, you know.’
‘And were you satisfied that all the phenomena were genuine?’
‘Absolutely, Sergeant. Well, I will admit that Lady Bratt is an excitable person and might have been mistaken about the hand, but we all felt the table move and heard the tapping.’
‘It feels a pretty solid piece of furniture to me,’ said Cribb, turning to examine the understructure. He stopped, peered underneath and was so unprepared for what he saw that he rapped his head on the underside of the table. ‘God help us, ma’am, there’s a man under here!’
‘I know,’ said Miss Crush, matter-of-factly. ‘You may come out now, Mr Strathmore.’
Strathmore! The man from the Life After Death Society.
He emerged slowly on all fours like an exhibit at the zoological gardens coming out to sun itself. The brown worsted of his suit encompassed his bulk, but not without definite indications of strain from the exceptional posture. Upright, he was revealed as a short man, burly, not obese. He jammed a monocle over his right eye and said, ‘There is absolutely no need to go for your truncheon, Sergeant. One had a very good reason for being where one was. I am not your burglar, I promise you. Search me if you like. All you will find are my watch, a notebook, two pencils, a magnifying glass and a tape measure.’
‘I’m sure it isn’t necessary, sir,’ said Cribb. ‘I was just a little unprepared to find-’
‘A man under my table?’ said Miss Crush. ‘I thought of telling you when you first came in, but it is not the sort of thing a lady cares to mention the moment after a policeman is shown into her room. What constructions you might have put upon it! How was I to explain that Mr Strathmore is a distinguished investigator of spiritual phenomena who had come by appointment to inspect my table? He had just got underneath when you arrived.’
‘Honorary Secretary of the Life After Death Society,’ said Strathmore, pushing a visiting-card into Cribb’s hand. ‘Object: to investigate the claims of mediums and test them scientifically, with the ultimate intention of establishing conclusively the existence of the hereafter.’
Cribb looked up from the card. No doubt of it: the man was speaking in earnest. ‘Is that what you were doing under the table?’
‘But of course. One has to test for so many things-loose floorboards, hidden springs, hollow legs. Let us face the facts, Sergeant. I have carried out my duties as a member of the Society for twelve years, no less, and I have yet to find a medium who is not a fraud or a charlatan. My job is to expose such people, eliminate them, you see. I am quite ruthless in uncovering their hocus-pocus, but as a seeker after truth, I must be. It is the only certain way of discovering someone who genuinely has the power.’
‘You’re still looking for such a person after twelve years?’
‘I am.’ Strathmore held up his right forefinger in the manner of one of the prophets of old. ‘Fifteen years ago, before the Society was formed, there was a man who may just conceivably have had that gift for which we search. His name was Daniel Home. In seance after seance he produced phenomena that astonished and convinced his sitters. He repeated the effects in laboratory conditions for no less a scientist that Mr William Crookes. Oh, unbelievable things! Imagine the scene in the laboratory when Crookes presented Home with a new accordion, bought that morning in Conduit Street. The medium held one end of it at arm’s length, while an unseen power played a plaintive tune on the other.’
‘There was a famous levitation incident, too,’ contributed Miss Crush, ‘when Home floated horizontally out of one window at Ashley House and in through another in the presence of two peers of the realm and an army officer.’
‘I’ve heard that story, ma’am,’ said Cribb. ‘I also seem to remember an action at law a few years ago concerning thirty thousand pounds’ worth of mortgage securities that Mr Home and his spirits had managed to persuade a rich widow to transfer to him. His seances weren’t so popular with the well-to-do after that.’
‘You are well-informed,’ said Miss Crush, more in the tone of a rebuff than a compliment.
‘It hasn’t changed the opinion of William Crookes,’ said Strathmore, icily.
‘I’m glad to hear it, sir. It’d be a dull world if all of us were sceptics. Personally I’m looking forward to meeting young Brand.’
‘You’re going to meet him?’ said Miss Crush, in horror. ‘Sergeant, I don’t think that is wise.’
‘Why not, ma’am? He doesn’t frighten me.’
‘No, but you will frighten him. He is such a delicate young man. So impressionable. And his heart is not strong, you know. I should hate him to think he is under suspicion of removing that wretched vase from my house. The shock might be enough to put out the spiritual fire in the boy.’
‘Good gracious, yes,’ said Strathmore. ‘We can’t let a piece of porcelain spoil a chance of unravelling the mystery of the Universe.’
‘Ah, but there’s the matter of another mystery as well, sir. A missing Nymph and Satyrs. Property of your friend, Dr Probert. I’m bound to ask Mr Brand if he can help me over that. I’ll treat him gentle, ma’am. Rest assured of that. I’ve heard so much about him that I’d rather like to sit in on one of his seances myself.’
‘That could be arranged, I’m sure,’ said Miss Crush. ‘One simply wishes to spare him the embarrassment of questions from the police.’
‘He’s subject to the law, like any one of us, ma’am,’ said Cribb solemnly.
‘Oh dear, this is very upsetting,’ said Miss Crush. ‘It might discourage him from ever coming here again, or going to Dr Probert’s. I think I must insist that you forget about the missing vase, Sergeant.’
‘Drop the investigation, d’you mean?’ said Cribb in disbelief.
‘Call the hounds off, so to speak,’ Strathmore explained, putting a hand on Cribb’s shoulder.
‘Can’t do that, sir.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘It’s a criminal matter. The thief who took the vase might take something else from another member of the public. Someone made off with Dr Probert’s nymph, after all. No, I shall need to talk to Mr Brand, same as I’ve talked to you. I haven’t been uncivil, have I?’