Harriett (The Tipton Hollow 1)

“No, she is about the only person who didn’t get one,” he replied. He continued to rhythmically stroke the cat’s soft fur as he stared off into the distance, as though looking through a window into the past. “Everyone else got bits here and there but, to be frank with you, none of it made much sense.”

“Who do you think ‘H’ is who is in danger?”

“Oh, that nonsense,” Mr Montague sighed. “I haven’t the faintest idea. If you ask me, it is someone having a laugh at all of our expenses. The glass wouldn’t give us any more information, even when we asked. I think it may have just been a poke at any one of us with the letter ‘H’ in our names, you know, just to get us thinking. I don’t believe for a second that it was a genuine threat.”

There was a slightly uncomfortable tone in his voice that warned Mark that the man was genuinely fearful.

“It seems a bit of a sinister threat to issue anyone just for a laugh, if you ask me,” Mark replied gently.

Mr Montague looked him straight in the eye. “I really don’t like to think of anyone at that séance being capable of such a twisted joke, really I don’t. I can only assume that it was from Madame Humphries herself.”

“Why though?”

“We asked for messages over and over again but nothing happened. Who would question something so random? Everyone was on edge as soon as the message was received, it heightened the tension, but who is to say if the message had any substance? A few of us had ‘H’ in our names, and things go wrong all the time. Anything could happen and we would put it down to the message we received as a premonition of sorts.”

“I see your point. It would be difficult to disprove such a vague threat relating to so many people.”

“Exactly. The rest of the people at the séance just wouldn’t do that kind of thing, I am certain of it.”

“Describe what happened to us. We weren’t there so we need facts from a reliable witness.” Mark watched the older man draw himself upright and almost preen with importance. He sighed and settled back. From the look of glee on the older man’s face, they were going to be a while yet. He threw Isaac a rueful glance and sat back in his chair to listen.

“So when Mrs Bobbington fell out of her chair, apparently dead, what happened then?”

“Chaos ensued. Alan, Mr Bentwhistle, examined her but even I could see that her eyes were fixed and blank. She had already left us, God bless her soul.”

“What was Madame Humphries doing?”

“I don’t know. Everyone was focused on poor Minerva.”

“We have been told that Madame Humphries was glowing strangely and talking in a funny voice. Did you notice anything else unusual?”

“That was mighty odd, I don’t mind admitting it,” Mr Montague replied with a sigh. Surprisingly, he was somewhat matter-of-fact about the details from the evening before and gave the information in clipped, precise tones that echoed Mr Bentwhistle and Harriett’s account of events almost to the letter.

“What colour was it?” Mark studied the man. He knew that the information he would get would be accurate.

“Greenish, yellow, I think. It was dark so the colours stood out a bit more. To begin with it was yellow. I thought it was a light being held behind her by that assistant of hers, but then the colour turned to green and seemed to emanate around her, even under her chair.”

“Was there anything beneath her chair?”

“Not as far as I could see. Of course, that assistant of hers, Miss Hepplethwaite, was hovering around her all the time, so it was difficult to see. They had a carpet bag between them but I didn’t see anyone rummage in it.”

“Was Madame glowing once Minerva was dead?”

Mr Montague paused at that and studied Mark carefully. “Babette and Beatrice were sitting beside Madame and suffered no adverse effects. I don’t think the glow had anything to do with Minerva’s death.”

“I know. I am trying to think of things that might cause someone to be able to do that. I am fairly certain that the glow was nothing spiritual, but it may have come from something in the carpet bag. If you didn’t smell anything, it points to the possibility that some sort of false lighting was used.”

Mark studied Isaac for a moment and turned his attention back to Mr Montague when Isaac faintly shook his head.

“Well, I think it is fair to say that you can go about your business now, but I must warn you against discussing this matter with anybody. At the moment, you are a witness, and if you need to go to court you should not leave yourself open to be accused of confusing facts with other people’s gossip. I would inform you that this is now a criminal investigation. If you think of anything that might be important to the investigation then please contact either myself or Detective Brown firsthand.”

“Can you tell me how Minerva died?”

Mark hesitated, but could see no reason why the man shouldn’t know. Alan Bentwhistle, Harriett and Babette did.

“She choked to death,” Mark replied darkly.

“Oh what?”