The logical part of my brain knew such a thing could be faked, yet when an individual seems to be losing control beside one, it’s difficult to ignore. The older woman stilled as quickly as she’d begun to shake, and I was turning back to watch Louisa again when Espasia spoke, startling me.
“Linny-Lou . . . I have a message for Linny-Lou . . .” The voice was deeper and smoother than her normal one, and an unaccountable shiver streaked over my shoulders. I realized the arm which I’d been holding had become unnaturally chilled.
“What on—” Miss Stoker began, then choked off when Espasia continued.
“Well . . . done . . . Linny. . . . You have proven yourself . . . worthy. You will . . . receive . . . confirmation . . . soon.”
With an awful, gurgling sound, Espasia jolted in her seat and then sagged in place.
Beyond the older woman, I could see the faint outline of Miss Stoker’s figure, frozen in shock.
“Espasia?”
Her arm was returning to a normal temperature, and I could feel its pulse beating rapidly. It was an excellent act, I told myself. She must have put something on her arm when she rose to change the lights and it made the skin turn cool for a moment. And anyone with training could fake a seizure.
“Yes. Yes, I am here,” Espasia said in her normal voice. “Please do not speak. You will disrupt Miss Louisa.”
Of course. With a mental sigh, I turned back to Louisa, realizing in disgust that Espasia’s performance had been merely another distraction.
“The spirits are speaking to her.” Espasia’s voice was steady and calm, as if nothing had happened moments ago.
Sure enough, I could hear the sound of a pencil scratching over paper. Louisa held the writing implement with one hand, and her other fingers settled on the paper to hold it in place.
However, she wasn’t looking down at the writing. Instead, she stared into nothingness above all of our heads, her face lax. In the dim light, her eyes seemed darker and deep-set, eerie in their blankness. At last, the pencil fell from Louisa’s hand and she bowed her head. Her chin sank into her chest and she breathed steadily.
After a moment, Espasia broke the silence. “Louisa, come back to us.” She pulled her arm from my grip and rose, walking over to turn up the lamps.
Immediately, I snatched up the paper. The writing, as one would expect, was irregular, messy, and heavy. I could barely make out the words, written over and over again:
Willa . . . Help me. Help me help me help me.
Miss Stoker
Wherein Our Heroines Crash a Party
“What a nonsensical thing for a spirit to say,” Mina remarked dryly as we drove away. “ ‘Help me?’ Truly? What precisely is an earthbound mortal supposed to do to assist a spirit? If one believes in Spiritualism, then the spirits are the ones with great capabilities. That’s only one of the numerous reasons I’m convinced someone is attempting to turn Willa Ashton lunatic, or worse. Leaving her a vague message such as that is only fodder for greater worry and more strain on her mental being—and a greater addiction to the séances.”
For once, I found myself in agreement—at least regarding Willa. “So you believe it was all fakery.”
“All of it. The pencil was magnetized, and that’s how it moved across the table to her. She likely wore a magnetic bracelet, slipping it off and on when we were distracted. The gust of cold air was emitted through a small hole in the wallpaper via some sort of bellows mechanism. The floating paper was obviously transported by thin wires or threads, and when we were distracted, the strings were cut. The table . . .” Here her words became less strident. “I haven’t figured that one out yet, for I’m certain it was bolted to the floor. We shall have to pay Miss Louisa another visit tomorrow. At that time, you can divert her attention while I investigate further. As well, I will be interrogating her to find out whether one of our suspects has been in contact with her.”
“Right. And what about Espasia’s performance?” I’d waited for the opportunity to bring up that portion of the séance. I didn’t think even Mina Holmes could come up with an explanation for it.
“Performance is the correct term. She’s a consummate actress—as most of these charlatans are.”
“Her arm turned ice-cold. And there is no way in which she—or anyone—could have known I killed a vampire last week. Let alone my nickname.”
“Pish.” Mina flapped her hand. “Willa Ashton could easily have told her about your nickname, and the previous séance. Gad, for all we know, Mrs. Yingling might have done so before she died. As for the vampire slaying . . . well, Miss Babbage knows you killed a vampire. As do Miss Adler, Dylan, and myself.”
“Yes, Dylan must’ve rushed off to tell Louisa Fenley I killed a vampire last week. No, wait, it was probably me, and I simply forgot. Providence knows it couldn’t have been that cloud-headed Babbage girl. I don’t think she can hold a single thought for more than thirty seconds.”
“I’m not suggesting any of those things actually happened. I’m merely pointing out that you and I aren’t the only people who knew a vampire was killed at the Oligary Building. Any one of the individuals I mentioned could have carried the story, by accident or design, and therefore the information could have been given to Miss Fenley. After all, she did meet with Willa Ashton. She knew we’d be invited—of course she did,” she said, drowning out my arguments. “Willa would have told her all about us—and so she did her own research in order to be prepared.”
I folded my arms across my middle and glared at her. Drat and blast! There were times when I would have been happy to be without a partner. Mina Holmes could be so exasperating with her know-it-all attitude.
“Fine. Right. It couldn’t have been real,” I said loudly and untruthfully. “You are so bleeding stubborn. So what now, pray tell? I’m certain you have a plan.”
“As I’ve already mentioned, we are going to pay another visit to Louisa Fenley tomorrow—er, no. On Wednesday. For tonight, we’re going to attend the opening of New Vauxhall Gardens.”
That was the best idea I’d heard in a long time. It would make up for having to attend a card party with Florence tonight when I’d rather be out searching for more UnDead. I was fairly dancing with impatience to get back on the streets with a stake in hand. But even though I didn’t protest, Mina took it upon herself to inform me why we must go to Vauxhall.