The Spiritualist (16 page)

“Your Honor, sir, Mrs. Atherton is hardly upstanding.” The district attorney stepped forward. He motioned to Pamela and the others. “The family of Mrs. Atherton’s late husband believes she murdered him for his fortune. They state that before her marriage, Mrs. Atherton was not known. They’re uncertain where she came from. Surely three years of marriage is hardly enough time to solidify the ties that keep a criminal from taking flight. The crime itself was especially heinous. The state requests that bail be denied.”

“Denied?” Benjamin looked at him in disbelief and then back at the magistrate. “Your Honor, Mrs. Atherton was born and raised in this city, as anyone who has taken the time to investigate would know. In her life, she has seldom set foot out of it—before the last three years, when she summered at Saratoga with her husband and his family, never so.”

“Mrs. Atherton has nowhere to go,” protested the district attorney. “She is not welcome to stay with her husband’s family, and no one has come forward to vouch for her. We believe, Your Honor, that she may have unknown friends who would help her leave the city before the trial.”

Benjamin turned to him. In exasperation, he said, “Either she has no friends and will flee the city, or she has unknown friends who will help her flee. Which is it, Hall?”

The magistrate peered over the podium. “Did you have something to add, Mr. Burden?”

I glanced back to see that John had raised his hand. Now, he stood. “I do, Your Honor. Mrs. Atherton has shown herself capable of great duplicity. She has no family; her friends have shunned her. In short, she has no reason to remain in this city. Peter Atherton’s family wishes to see justice done. They would ask that Mrs. Atherton be kept safely behind bars.”

“Mrs. Atherton is a lady, Your Honor,” Benjamin objected. “And Mrs. Dorothy Bennett has given her word that Mrs. Atherton will be present for her trial. I myself will vouch for her as well.”

I looked at Benjamin in surprise, but he didn’t turn his gaze from the judge.

“Dorothy Bennett? Have you a paper to that effect, Mr. Rampling?”

“I do, sir.” Ben opened the case he carried, rummaging around until he found the proper document. He stepped forward and laid it upon the bench.

The judge picked it up and read it closely. Then, with a sigh, he set it down and turned to the district attorney, who was frowning. “Mr. Hall, have you any objection to Mrs. Bennett’s promise that Mrs. Atherton will be present for her trial?”

“Only that I don’t believe it, Your Honor. Mrs. Bennett has been ill these last years. I wonder if she knew what she was signing.”

“Not only did she know,” Benjamin responded tartly, “but she has lent her financial assets to the promise. Mrs. Bennett is willing to post bail for Mrs. Atherton.”

“Then bail is set in the amount of twenty-five thousand dollars,” said the magistrate. “Mr. Rampling, you may make arrangements with the bailiff.”

It was over, and yet I couldn’t move. I stood speechless, my hands curled about the railing until Benjamin touched my shoulder and murmured, “Come, Evelyn. You’re free to go.”

I turned just in time to see my in-laws rising; Penny’s stare was venomous, and Pamela’s face was set. John did not bother to look at me, but Paul inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. Then the four of them left the courtroom.

It did not take long to secure my release. Benjamin took my arm, leading me from the district court and out to the street. He hailed a cab and helped me into it, spoke a few words to the driver, then climbed in to sit across from me.

“I’m so grateful to you,” I told him as the carriage started off. “But I’m afraid you’ll be as much a pariah in this city as I am, now that you’ve decided to help me.”

“I’ve no regrets,” he said.

“The Athertons have so much influence—it would have been much easier to let me face them alone.”

“Peter wouldn’t have wanted that,” he said.

“So you said, but I doubt he would have asked you to sacrifice so much—”

“You don’t think so?” His voice was quietly venomous. “Things aren’t always what they seem, Evelyn. Didn’t you wonder why Peter left everything to you?”

“He wanted to take care of me.”

“I’m certain he did. But he could have done so by leaving you a yearly income, which would have satisfied you and soothed his brothers and sisters as well. He didn’t do that. Don’t think that his disinheriting them was an accident. He did it deliberately.”

“But he loved his family—”

Ben snorted. “The biggest curse of Peter’s life was being an Atherton! There are tensions in that family you know nothing about, Evelyn. Suffice to say that it’s no sacrifice for me to oppose them. In fact, I relish the opportunity.”

I was taken aback. “I had no idea.”

He waved my comment away. “It’s enough for you to know that I dislike the Athertons on Peter’s account, but even if that weren’t true, you and I are friends. I need no other reason to help you. I’ll hear nothing more about it. Now there are some things we must discuss. Some changes have occurred since you were arrested.”

“Changes? It’s been only two days.”

“More than long enough for this city,” he said grimly.

I leaned back as well as I could against the seat, raising the tang of onions and sweat from the stained upholstery—still a better smell than the mildewy, stinking jail scent that clung to my skin and hair. I wanted desperately to change from these wretched clothes I’d worn since my husband’s funeral.

“I’m exhausted, Ben. Can’t it wait until we reach the house? I imagine Penny will throw a fit when I ask her to leave, but if you’re there—”

“We’re not going to the house.”

“We’re not?”

He gave me a sober look. “The Athertons have taken it over pending the trial.”

I forgot my clothes and my exhaustion. “They can’t do that. Peter left it to me.”

Ben laughed shortly and bitterly. “Are you really so naive, Evie? The Athertons have conspired to have you arrested since the moment they learned the contents of Peter’s will. A few bribes, one or two discussions with police commissioners… No, the house is theirs. You won’t be able to dislodge them, and you’ll be arrested again if you show up on the doorstep.”

I stared at him in disbelief. My rage over the injustice was so overwhelming it was all I could do to keep still. “They’d have me on the street? I won’t let them do this!”

“Come, Evie. You’ve lived among the upper ten long enough to know how things work. You’ve no power here. However, you do have other options. Dorothy Bennett’s been quite a friend—she asked that you stay with her, but I’ve taken lodgings for you at a boardinghouse near mine. Very respectable, though it will be quite a comedown in circumstance for you, I’m afraid. The court has approved it on the condition that a watchman be posted out front to make certain you don’t flee.”

My anger grew, and along with it came a desperate powerlessness. “I want to fight them. The house is mine. Why should I stay in a boardinghouse when I’ve a perfectly satisfactory home of my own?”

“It would be a pointless battle. You must know that. Let them have the house for now. It doesn’t matter. What matters is what you’re facing. You could hang if you’re found guilty. The evidence against you is quite intimidating.”

I felt myself pale. “But how could it be, when I didn’t kill him?”

“Circumstantial evidence has weight, and it’s not as if the police will investigate beyond it. The commissioners have told them what to think, and the commissioners are in the Athertons’ pockets. This case will be tried on hearsay and rumor, and it will be admissible because the Athertons want it to be. Society is on their side; they’ll crawl out of the woodwork to offer proof against you, especially now that Irene Cushing has been so very obliging.”

Until that moment, I had not truly realized the horror of my situation.

“In any case, this trial will be very difficult. I would have wished you’d said nothing of the shooting incident to Irene or the police—”

“How could I not? Peter thought it important enough that he went out that night to ask questions.”

Ben gave me an odd look. Then he turned to glance out the window, and I had the distinct impression he was keeping something from me.

“What is it?” I asked anxiously, and then, when he said nothing, “Ben?”

“This is what I want you to do, Evelyn. I want you to go to that boardinghouse. Forget about what Peter said that night. Let me take care of everything.”

“But why?”

“I’m asking you to do this. Not just as your attorney, but as your friend. What happened to Peter…”

I was shaken by a quick dread, a terrible apprehension. “What
did
happen to Peter, Ben? What is it you’re not telling me?”

He was quiet.

I made a sound of dismay. “I can’t just be silent. You tell me to do nothing, but you must know that’s impossible. My life is at stake. To just sit quietly—you must understand—I can’t.”

He sighed. “There are times I wish you were truly just another society wife, Evie.”

“I’ve no doubt Peter wished that as well,” I said wryly.

“Peter didn’t want you to worry.” He paused. “The shooting was no accident.”

“So Peter was right! Someone meant to kill Michel!”

Ben shook his head. “He told you that to protect you. The truth is he felt the bullet had been meant for him.”

I was stunned. “But—you told me it was nothing, a trick only. You told me not to take it seriously.”

“I know. Forgive me. I was only doing what Peter asked me to do. He didn’t want you to worry, and he most assuredly did not want you involved. But that was before he ended up dead, with you accused of his murder.”

“So the shooting did have something to do with his death?”

Ben nodded heavily. “I believe someone meant to kill Peter that night, and when they failed at the circle, they followed him.”

“I knew it!” I was vindicated. My suspicions had been valid ones. “I knew it had to be one of them. But who? I’ve seen all of them since, you know. I doubt it was one of the Dudleys—they seem so sincerely to want to pass the word of the spirits on, but as for the others—”

“It wasn’t the Dudleys,” Ben said quietly. “They’re innocents in all this.”

“Then who? Do you think it could be Jacob? Or perhaps Wilson Maull? Which of them had a reason to want Peter dead?”

He looked at me. “Neither. I believe it was Michel Jourdain.”

“Michel Jourdain?” I stared at him in disbelief, and then I laughed. “Why, he’s nothing but a charlatan. I mean really, Ben, he’s very clever, but I’d say Dorothy has more to fear from him than any, and only because she’s in love with him, but for now he seems to make her happy enough—”

“He’s taking money from her,” Ben said sharply. “Peter was determined to stop it.”

“Dorothy’s not a child, and she’s not addled. If she wants to make a fool of herself over him and give him a few dollars, why should Peter have objected?”

“She’s not in her right mind. She’s old and she’s sick. And it’s not just a few dollars, it’s thousands. She’s been completely taken in by Jourdain. He’s not just any flimflam man. He’s a dangerous one. Once Peter realized how much control he had over her, he was bound to expose him. It became… an obsession. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else.”

Ben’s words confused me. I thought of the reverence I’d heard in Peter’s voice on our way to the Bennett house. “But Peter nearly worshipped him, and it was clear he believed. The way he spoke to his mother’s spirit—”

“It was an act. He was working hard to convince Dorothy to put Jourdain aside. But he didn’t want Jourdain becoming suspicious. Peter was afraid, and he was right to be so. I think Jourdain discovered what Peter was trying to do. I think he set up the shooting that night to kill him.”

“It seems rather extreme, doesn’t it? And the two of them were sitting so close—only Dorothy was between them. The angle was impossible.”

Ben was grim. “Did you think the rapping real? Or the balls of light? The man has a hundred ways to fool the eye. I’ve no doubt he set up some mechanism. I’m certain that, had we searched the room that night, we would have found it suspended in some corner somewhere, or even hidden by drapes.”

“It seems rather elaborate,” I said dubiously.

“The best of these tricks are, and he has a great deal to lose. I don’t know what’s going on in that house, Evelyn, but it’s clear he has some kind of hold on Dorothy. I wish I knew what it was. My guess is that he’s found a way to control her fortune, and Peter either discovered how or was close to discovering it.”

“Yes, but murder…”

“Who else in the circle had such a motive? Jourdain’s charming, I’ll admit, but charming men can be liars, and he’s the best of them. Do you really doubt he’s capable of such an act?”

I thought of Peter’s funeral, how Michel had managed Dorothy, how she’d changed at his word to a trembling invalid. I remembered the circle I’d stumbled upon, how he’d seized the opportunity to deceive me as he had the others, and my sense that he’d had something to gain. One by one, every moment I’d spent with Michel gathered to indict him. His flirtation, the way he’d wormed information about me from my husband, the way he’d gone to the police himself to talk to them about Peter—so he could tell them what he’d known of Peter’s disappearance? Or to discover whether they suspected him? I thought of my father’s informants. Appealing and charismatic and handsome, yes, but had I ever doubted they would cut someone’s throat if they felt the need?

Yet those men were petty criminals with nothing to lose. Michel Jourdain was Dorothy Bennett’s house guest, and a well-taken-care-of one at that, and the others in the circle were of the upper ten. To take the risk of killing Peter—an Atherton, no less—was foolish indeed, and I did not believe he was a fool. My father had taught me to look carefully at every situation, to ask the right questions. Now I meant to do so.

“Stop the carriage,” I said.

“What?”

“Stop the carriage. You said Dorothy asked me to stay with her. That’s where I want to go. I want you to arrange it.”

Ben looked startled, and then alarmed. “I will not. I told you, I don’t want you involved.”