‘I have made a beginning,’ I told her, ‘but it is painstaking work, and may not be complete for a while.’ I declined the offer of punch, which I felt might choke me.
‘It must be so reassuring to know that you have the approval of His Majesty. I will ask Miss Stone to make a copy of his message to you which should make a very nice frontispiece.’
‘It will indeed,’ I replied, summoning up a burst of enthusiasm, ‘a blessing from the King himself, what could possibly be better!’
Mrs Barnham accepted her tankard and savoured the warm fragrance that rose from its contents. ‘If you are interested, I could make a special arrangement for you that would greatly assist your work. I sometimes offer private séances to my most important clients. In such a séance you would undoubtedly be able to converse directly with the spirits of the royal court. Now that the King himself has spoken to you I am sure that others of almost equal note will follow. Of course, such a consultation will sap my poor energies somewhat, but I am able to recover my strength very quickly if I have the right medicine.’ She drank deeply and smacked her lips. ‘Unfortunately,’ and here she gave a regretful shake of the head, ‘the medicine is very rare and hard to obtain.’
I at once recognised her meaning. ‘Its purchase will put you to some expense,’ I said.
She leaned towards me, as if speaking in confidence. ‘You know of course that I never ask for payment from my clients. I make no profit from my work. I hardly like to ask for a donation towards the cost of the medicine, but since it enables me to serve you better, it would be most appreciated.’
‘I understand of course.’
‘A single dose can cost as much as £20, but it will restore me to health immediately.’
‘You need have no worries on that account,’ I said. ‘The arrangement suits me very well, and I am more than delighted to pay the cost of your medicine. I will consult my diary and propose a day when I will be free to interview the royal spirits. I trust that they will appear before me in person?’
Mrs Barnham hesitated, and her eyes narrowed. I don’t believe she was expecting that. ‘Anything is possible,’ she said, cautiously.
‘But that would be more tiring for you and require more medicine.’
She cheered up at once. ‘Precisely. Perhaps two doses.’
On that understanding I departed. I had the horrid feeling that had Mr Cobbe been at the séance that evening then he too would have been offered a special individual service, something I would have moved Heaven and Earth to prevent.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The morning after Mr Merridew’s revelations, Mina paid special attention to the early edition of The Times which devoted considerable column space to editorials and correspondence concerning the Holt mystery.
THE BRIGHTON SCANDAL
The associates of Mr Jasper Holt, the gentleman recently declared legally deceased after having been missing for more than seven years, have been making vigorous demands that the Holts’ family doctor should be requested to examine the man claiming to be Mr Holt returned from the dead, to establish his true identity once and for all. The man, having been identified by three respectable gentlemen with whom Mr Holt formerly had business connections, has been charged with fraud under the name of Jasper Holt. This despite the fact that Mr Holt’s widow and brother in law have stated that he is not Mr Holt, and they do not know who he is. The town, especially in the business quarters, is in an uproar.
Our correspondent has been most diligent in his enquiries and secured an interview with the medical gentleman in question, a Dr McClelland. He discovered that the doctor had never examined Mr Holt, having only been concerned with the trivial and normal maladies of the children, when called in by the anxious mother. He has therefore declined to make any pronouncement on the man in the cells, or even to go and see him.
An enquiry was then made of the Brighton and Hove Insurance Company which arranged for the medical examination of Mr Holt in order to grant the life policy, which, we must remind our readers, was never paid out on due to the suspicious circumstances of Mr Holt’s disappearance. We venture to suggest that had the payment been made the man in the police cells would be in an even more serious position than he is at present. The certificate of good health was given by a Dr Crosier, who is now unfortunately deceased. We hope and trust that the late doctor’s notes will be examined to see if any information can be gleaned to solve this remarkable mystery.
Meanwhile general agitation remains rife. We hear that Mrs Vardy has been inundated with correspondence making the most unpleasant and ill-conceived accusations which we will refrain from printing here.
THE TRIUMPH OF SCIENCE
Once again, we must celebrate the valuable work of our men of science who have provided us with so many useful inventions. Not the least of these is the photograph, which has hitherto been regarded mainly as an item of amusement, and a method of recording the image of persons without recourse to engaging an artist, something that so many in our land are prevented from doing due to the expense. Thus portraits have become available to us all, and it is a good thing. The results are sometimes a little cruel, as the camera can show the sitter in the true honesty of their appearance, yet people flock to have their pictures taken, and even include them on cartes de visite, so not everyone is disappointed. And these images form treasured mementoes of those loved ones who have passed away.
More recently the photograph, being an accurate and unflattering portrait has shown its power to assist in the solving of a mystery. The man who is currently in the cells at Brighton police station awaiting an appearance at the police court, received a very unusual visitor the other day, a young photographer of the name of Beckler who has recently set up shop in that town. Entering the station with his camera and equipment and an assistant, he somehow, making a great show of audacity and confidence, managed to gain access to the prisoner and take a picture. (We had recently supposed that he was a representative of the Scotland Yard photographic department, but we were in error and must correct our earlier report.) That portrait is now being displayed in his shop window in Ship Street. Several hundred residents of Brighton have now seen it, including men of business who were acquainted with Mr Holt and who all declare that he is the man, though undoubtedly fallen on hard times. We might wonder whether the fact that these individuals are owed money by Mr Holt has anything to do with the matter, but we are not in a position to speculate. Other residents of Brighton state that they believe they have seen the man in the streets of the town, but do not know his name or where, if anywhere, he normally resides.
But as things stand, his former associates say he is Holt and he says he is Holt, and he has been charged with fraud under that name. The lady who has been his wife and then his widow and then the wife of another man, and now, we suppose, is his wife once more, has declined to comment.
For the time being, however, we believe that the artist who wields brush and pen need not be concerned for his profession which still has an essential place in our society.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE TIMES
Sir — forgive me if I state that I do not believe the Holt mystery to be very mysterious at all. Neither do I attach any blame to Mrs Vardy — or should I call her Mrs Holt? — or even to Mr Saltmire for failing to identify the prisoner. We have all read of cases where a body has been identified by distressed persons as that of a missing relative only to have that relative return home alive and well.