Chapter Thirty-Four #2
“Agree. So we have three suspects.”
“Stella genuinely seems to think she’s helping people. My impression is that she’s excited about what her gift can do for the grieving, but a little awestruck by it, too.”
“I would agree. It is as if she has stumbled over a small fortune and is delighted she can use it to help others.”
“Of course spiritualists are always going to say it’s about helping the grief-stricken, but in her case, it seems genuine.
As does her somewhat baffled delight that a higher power deigned to give her this gift.
” I settle in against him. “Suspect two is her husband. My impression is that Edgar Parsons doesn’t necessarily believe in spiritualism but he does believe in his wife. ”
Gray nods. “He is willing to accept the gift for her sake. Because it is important to her, and it does not seem to be harming anyone. Also, you asked me to confirm their finances. I have, and what we heard is correct. Edgar Parsons comes from money. The coffers are full. What his wife earns is split between her and her brother. Moreover, Stella Parsons donates heavily to charity.”
“Because she doesn’t need the money. It’s like a hobby, then. Except for Freddie. We should also investigate his financial situation.”
“Done. I presumed you would also want that.”
I kiss his cheek. “Thank you. So what did you find?”
“Stella and Freddie’s parents were comfortably well off, and there is a family business, but the eldest brother manages it. Stella married very well, and so she is taken care of. But Freddie has only the income he derives from his sister’s work.”
“Ah.”
“However, it is not as if he particularly needs that income. He has an apartment in Edgar Parsons’s home, and it seems as if, in marrying Stella, Parsons also took responsibility for the young man.”
“Freddie is eight years younger than Stella. They’re very close, and I suspect she’s accustomed to watching out for him.
So the doting big sister continues to care for her younger brother, and her doting husband doesn’t interfere.
There would be personality clashes—Parsons being very reticent and Freddie being the human equivalent of an excitable puppy—but it’s not actual friction. ”
“Parsons tolerates him,” Gray says. “Much as he tolerates his wife’s spiritualism.
If either were to disappear tomorrow, he would not miss it, but they do not interfere with his marital contentment.
As for Freddie, I can confirm that he has invested his money, which suggests he does not suffer from any habits that deplete his funds. ”
“Let’s look at Freddie as our culprit for the fake spiritualism.
He and Stella grow up as cousins to the famous D.
D. Home. Maybe Stella has some inexplicable experiences and Freddie—being younger—plays at amplifying them.
It makes Stella happy and brings her into the spotlight, with him catching the reflected attention.
They get older. D. D. Home becomes more famous.
Freddie cashes in, via his sister.” I look at Gray. “Does that work?”
“It does. My sense is that Parsons suspects Freddie of manipulating the séances, but he chooses not to push, for the sake of that marital happiness he cherishes.”
“But if Freddie did anything to hurt or humiliate Stella?”
“Then Parsons would intervene. He is watching for that, and this whole situation makes him nervous.”
“Which is why he volunteered to help us with the experiment,” I say.
“I remember that first séance, when Freddie wanted to try recontacting Nellie. Parsons clearly didn’t want her to, and I could see that as a sign that Parsons wasn’t ready to re-create the tapping, but I think he just didn’t want her exposed—via Freddie—by a famous detective.
And Stella agreed that she shouldn’t do it. ”
“Because, I believe she secretly fears what her husband does—that Freddie is doing the rapping and she has no gift.”
I nod. “I don’t think Parsons suggested we re-create the séance so we could expose Freddie.
Parsons wouldn’t want that. But if our experiment proved that no outsider interfered, Parsons would know it was Freddie.
And that would mean Freddie knew Nellie was dead, which is a problem.
If Stella’s brother committed murder, that hurts Stella. ”
“Which Parsons will not allow. He is a clever man. He has made all the connections, and earlier today, when he was so peeved over the experiment being canceled, it was not about the inconvenience.”
“It was because he wanted answers, and he was thwarted.” I’m quiet for a moment, thinking.
“My impression earlier was that Parsons wouldn’t agree to a rescheduled experiment, but if this theory is right, he’ll jump at it.
The problem is that we can’t be sure Lady Adler will agree. At least, not in a timely fashion.”
“Then we re-create the scenario elsewhere,” Gray says.
“It is not ideal, but it will help us determine whether Parsons suspects his brother-in-law of murder.” He checks his pocket watch.
“It is not unreasonably late. Let me send over a message. Ask whether we can conduct the experiment here tomorrow morning.”
We dispatch Simon with the message. And then we return to the funerary parlor and continue working through the case as we wait. Okay, that’s a lie. We return to the funerary parlor and make out as we wait. Look, it’s a perfectly valid use of our time, as much-needed stress relief.
Also, I am very aware that the term “making out” is better suited to teenagers than adults, but apparently, this Victorian courting thing means we’re not exactly moving at top speed in that regard.
It’s actually kind of nice to focus on cuddling and kissing, with no sense that we have anyplace we need to get to soon.
The Parsonses’ hotel is only a few blocks away, which means Simon set off on foot and it’s barely been twenty minutes before there’s a commotion at the front door … which is literally on the other side of the wall where I’m kissing Gray.
I jump up, as if someone might barge in, despite the door being locked by Gray and double-checked by me.
I smooth my dress as I head for the door.
At the last second, I turn and wave at myself, asking Gray to confirm that I’m not in any state of suspicious disarray.
He nods as he straightens his cravat, and I reach up to fix his tousled hair.
“Dr. Gray is not working at this hour, ma’am,” Simon is saying.
“But he sent you with a message. That means he is awake, awaiting a response.”
It takes a moment to identify the speaker. Then I open the door and step out. “Mrs. Parsons.”
Stella is just inside the front door, with Simon. She’s breathing hard, as if she hurried here on foot. “Miss Mitchell,” she says, walking toward me. Then her gaze shoots over my shoulder. “Dr. Gray. Thank God. I need your help. It’s my brother, Freddie. He’s missing.”