The Spiritualist (49 page)

The two other men turned to follow his glance, and I saw their palpable surprise, and then the warm touch of their appreciation. Michel said something to them in a low voice, and Dudley stepped forward, crossing the room to take my hands.

“How lovely you look this evening, Evie!”

“A more comfortable dress to find the spirits with,” Michel explained to them.

“Most assuredly,” Jacob said fervently. “I wonder that we’d never thought of it before.”

I heard the swish of skirts behind me, and I turned to see Sarah with Wilson Maull. Wilson seemed struck speechless, but Sarah was beaming. “How beautiful you are, Evie. Nearly like a spirit yourself.”

“Perhaps you’d care to greet Rampling,” Michel said to me, and I followed his glance across the room, to where Benjamin stood with Dorothy and Grace Dudley. They had all stopped talking to stare at me—Benjamin, in fact, looked stunned.

I had been prepared to see him, of course, but I had not been prepared for the anger I felt at the sight of him. How ordinary he looked, self-possessed and confident in his frock coat and his staid vest, his beard closely groomed, his thick hair gleaming. Not at all like a murderer—or a man who so easily betrayed those who loved him.

Michel said, “Bring them over. It’s nearly time to begin.”

His words were a quiet reminder. I smiled at the others and then went quickly, marveling at how much easier it was to move without crinolines or corset. I could breathe—which was helpful, as I was tense enough at the thought of what we must accomplish tonight.

“My dear child,” Dorothy said as I approached. “What
are
you wearing?”

“It’s exhausting to bring the spirits. I thought if I were comfortable, I might control them better.”

Grace said, “I’ve often wondered about that. How hard it is to breathe deep!”

“Michel wishes us to start, now that everyone’s here,” I said. “Shall we go to the table?”

Dorothy’s cadre of nurses gathered to help her, and Grace went ahead. But as I started, Benjamin caught my elbow, holding me back. “What’s this about, Evie? A dressing gown? Why it’s indecent. Who suggested this to you? Jourdain?”

“I’ve already explained. He thought I would do better if I were comfortable—”

“You didn’t even bother to do up your hair!”

“I’m only attempting to perfect the illusion,” I said.

He glanced about, as if afraid someone might overhear. “I hardly expected you to take it to heart this way. You must remember, Evie, who you are, what your hopes are for the future. This won’t do at all.”

“Benjamin,” I said, turning to lay my hand upon his arm. I curled my fingers lingeringly, and I met his gaze with a limpid one of my own. I saw the moment he was reassured, though I saw too his discomfort. He did not understand this, and it unnerved him, and that was good; it was what I wanted. “I’m doing what I must. Please trust me.”

“I do trust you, Evelyn. It’s
him
I don’t trust. Have you found the gun?”

“I haven’t had the chance to look. Dorothy’s been asking me nearly every day to bring her sons, and it requires a great deal of my time.”

“Her sons?”

“And there are other spirits that come as well,” I said. “I’ve tried to do as you say and ignore her, but Adele’s been very determined.”

Was it my imagination, or did his breathing quicken? “Adele?”

Michel called, “Rampling, you’re delaying things. You can speak to
Madame
Atherton about her case after the circle.”

I took my hand from Benjamin’s arm and smiled. “We’ll speak later.” Then I moved away from him, the fine lawn of Adele’s dressing gown twisting about my chemise-covered legs as I went to the table.

Michel held out the chair for me. As I sat, he leaned close, whispering, “Bravo,
chère
.”

The others took their seats, and when Dudley settled himself beside me, he gave me an almost intimate smile. When he took my hand, his own was moist, as it had never been before. I was aware of how my attire had changed the feeling in the room. There was a different tension this evening, one colored with desire and, perhaps, guilt over feeling such.
“It’ll make them all feel exposed,”
Michel had promised me.
“And exposed people are susceptible ones
, chère
. Never forget it.”

“Whose spirit shall we call tonight?” Grace asked.

“I think we’ll see who comes,” Michel said. “Will someone dim the lights?”

Sarah did the honors tonight. The candles burned in the middle of the table, their flames twisting this way and that with the currents of our breathing, then wisping into smoke as Jacob blew them out, and we were cast in shadows. Michel’s thigh pressed mine—clad as I was only in my chemise and Adele’s dressing gown, I felt the heat of him, an intimacy that was strangely exciting as we sat among the others. He squeezed my hand, and as the hymn began, he whispered to me, “Remember. Control them.” His thumb began its caress, the touch that took me into trance. This time, I was to go only so far, no farther. This time, I must keep my own spirit present, as he’d taught me.

I felt myself fade; I felt the slow descent into slumbering wakefulness. The door was opening, wavering like heat vapors between this world and the spheres. I felt the seductive pull, and I resisted it; I did not let it take me out. But I pushed aside, I made room. And then, at last, I felt her there.

Leave them to me
, she said.

And I said,
Join me.

She was surprised and agitated; it was not what she wanted.

She pushed at me, and I held my ground. I told her,
Tonight, you shall have your say.

I felt her satisfaction.

Then I heard Michel’s voice. “Has a spirit come to speak with us tonight?”

She began to speak. I held her back.
Wait
.

There was silence. Then I felt the muscles flex in Michel’s thigh as he tapped the lever.

RAP RAP RAP.

“One has come,” Sarah said—always so excited, as if she expected each time that no spirit might visit, and was surprised anew when one did.

“Who has come to us tonight?”

“Is it one of my boys?” Dorothy asked.

Let me speak
, Adele begged me.

I made her wait again.

“Spirit, who has come?”

Now
, I told her.

She pushed anxiously against my throat. I felt my mouth open, as if in a dream. I heard her voice. “I am here.”

“Who are you, spirit? Can you tell us your name?”

“Adele.”

I heard one of the women gasp. I found myself searching for Benjamin, but he was hard to see in the dimness, and my eyes were not fully my own.

“Who have you come to see?”

“I come for you, of course,” Adele said. “I always come for you.”

Michel’s voice was smooth and even, unperturbed. “What message have you for me?”

This was not what she’d expected. She wanted him afraid. She wanted him repentant. “Don’t you know?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“Don’t you regret what you did to me?”

The others were avid.

Michel said, “
Non.
But you must know that. We were never meant to be.”

She flailed within me. She tried to push me out. I felt Michel’s hand strong on my own.
You’ll bend to me now
, I told her.

She fought me. I felt her jealousy and her anger.

She said, “All those times you touched me, you kissed me. The boardinghouse room. None of that meant anything to you?”

“This isn’t our business,” Dorothy said tersely. “Watch yourself, spirit. You’re among others.”

She cared nothing for Dorothy’s admonition. She was hungry for Michel. She said, “Did it mean nothing to you?”

“We passed the time together for a while,” he told her.

“You didn’t love me?”

“Such feelings keep you from passing into the next sphere. Put this behind you, spirit. Move on. Release me.”

“Tell me you were jealous—even a little—when I went back to him.”

“Move on, Adele,” Michel said softly.

I felt her confusion and her hurt. I said to her,
There is something you must do for me. If I let you touch him, will you do it?

She struggled to say no. But I felt how badly she wanted him. How she still hungered so for him.

Her voice said, “I would like to touch you.”

“As you wish,” he said.

His hand released mine. I felt his stealthy movements in the dimness, though I knew he looked in the opposite direction to distract the others, focusing on a distant spot, as if waiting for her to appear there. I felt him slip the fine chain of the locket over my head. I felt the oval dangle between my breasts. I kept my eyes closed. With my own free hand, I pulled the scarf from beneath the cushion of my chair.

She began to speak. I silenced her.

Michel stretched out his hand, and I slid my own from Dudley’s, as if I were restless and must reposition it, always keeping contact, until Michel’s fingers took the place of mine, and I was freed, and Dudley still thought I was there. I slipped from my shoes, leaving the one still touching Dudley’s foot. Then, barefoot, I rose slowly, as if I were emerging from a bath, trusting that in the dim light I could hardly be seen, that what was seen was a filmy dressing gown that moved as if of its own accord, hoping that Michel had distracted them with his own feigned astonishment.

I took the scarf and put it over my head to hide my face. Then I moved behind Michel, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pressed myself against him, and then I bade her say what she would, and she did not surprise me; she spoke through my voice.

“I loved you. Why did you let me go? Why did you send me back to let him kill me?”

“Who killed you,
chère
?”

“My husband.”

“I knew of no husband, spirit.”

“Oh, how you lie. What sweet lies you always told.”

“Who was your husband, spirit?”

Tell him
, I commanded her, and I felt her surprise at my insistence.

You know who he is.

I know, but you must tell him
, I said to her.
Tell him now.

“I have his necklace about my throat,” she said. “Look—the locket he gave me. Can you not read it?”

“It’s too dark for reading, spirit.”

“His name is Benjamin. I think you must know him now.”

The others in the circle moved restlessly.

She began to speak again. Again, I made her wait.

RAP.

“Another spirit?” Dudley asked. “Who can this one be?”

RAP RAP RAP RAP RAP.

“A weaker spirit,” Dorothy said hoarsely. “It wants the alphabet.”

“A, B, C, D…

“M, N, O, P—”

RAP.

“I see who comes now,” Michel said.

“
A, B, C, D, E
—”

RAP.

“Is this the spirit of Peter Atherton?” Michel asked.

RAP RAP RAP.

The excitement in the room grew. I felt Adele waiting in my head, trying to see through my eyes, which were hazy and blurred. She had not the power to direct them well.

Michel spoke. “Yes. I am here.”

It was uncanny. He sounded so much like Peter that even I nearly believed it.

Dudley said, “Atherton! We’ve been waiting for you for some time.”

“I was lost. I came only in dreams.”

I know this spirit
, Adele said in my head.
I have seen him.

I let her speak. “I know him.”

“You know him, Adele?” Jacob Colville now. “Are you together in the spheres?”

“He has already passed into the next. But we were murdered by the same man.”

“The same man?” Jacob’s voice was a squeak. “Who murdered you, spirit? Who murdered Peter Atherton?”

“This is ridiculous!” Benjamin burst out. He leaped to his feet, wrenching loose from the circle, and the disruption was like thunder breaking. “No one should believe this claptrap. How can you believe it?”

I felt Adele’s fear. The intensity of it surprised me, and I was caught up in it. I felt when I lost control of her, when her fear possessed me—I let go of Michel; I backed away in the darkness.

“Don’t let him come near me!” Adele cried.

Jacob Colville rose. “What’s going on here?”

“He’s the one,” Adele said, pointing at Benjamin through the darkness. “He was my husband in your world—”

“This is a lie! I won’t listen to this!” Benjamin shouted. “I had no wife—she was a whore!”

“Rampling, calm down—”

I tried to gain control of the spirit in my head, but she was too afraid. She screamed, “Keep him away from me!”

I felt his rage through the darkness, and it was like the vision all over again. Her fear and panic, running through the darkness, though there was only carpet beneath her feet now. She had me running toward the door, but the ice and mud that had slowed him before was gone; he was on me in a moment, and at his touch, my waking trance was broken. Adele disappeared, swept away, and I was myself again, blinking and weakened. He jerked the scarf from my head, and then he grabbed for the locket, snapping its chain. His hands were around my throat, squeezing, and as I grabbed at them and tried to pry them loose, he slammed me against the wall so hard my head bounced against it. I saw stars in the darkness. I heard shouting, but it sounded far away, like spirits through the mist. What I heard was Benjamin’s voice, low and steady with vicious rage.

“Shut up, you lying bitch! Dear God, you’ll torment me no longer! I’ll see you truly dead this time!”

I knew he didn’t see me; he saw only Adele. His eyes shone in the darkness. His teeth were very white. His thumbs pressed hard into my throat, choking me. I couldn’t breathe. I grabbed at his fingers with one hand; with the other I tried to reach the pocket of my dressing gown. But the world spun and tilted, the shadows grew dimmer.

I heard a crash. A white light flashed through the darkness.

Benjamin fell away. I could no longer feel his fingers. I gasped for breath. I thought,
This is it, then. I must be dead.