his voice, a man and a woman coming through very distinctly.’
‘Remarkable,’ said Cribb.
‘Indeed, yes. They conveyed a message to me.’
‘Nothing to do with your house being burgled?’
Miss Crush frowned. ‘No. They are not concerned with worldly matters once they have gone over to the Other Side. It was to tell me that my late Uncle Walter is well content where he is. He made an unfortunate marriage, poor man, and my aunt frequently drove him to distraction. There was no mention of her in the message, although she followed him only two months after his going.’
‘It’s an extensive place, I understand,’ said Cribb. ‘If your uncle kept moving . . .’
‘Quite so.’
Cribb skirted the table to examine the sideboard where the stolen vase had stood. At least a dozen others were on parade there in two ranks.
‘It isn’t missed,’ said Miss Crush, following him. ‘I simply changed the positions of the others and now you wouldn’t know that the Worcester had ever been there.’
For a collector, her unconcern was baffling.
‘I believe it was Japanese in style,’ said Cribb.
‘Yes. One of Hadley’s pieces. I gave a description to the constable.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. I’ve got a note of it.’
‘There are lots of them about, you know. I can find a replacement if I want one, and I’m not sure whether I do.’
‘Was it on display here on the evening when you had the seance with Sir Hartley Bratt and his family and Dr Probert?’
‘Oh, yes. I asked Mr Brand whether it was safe to keep the vases out during the seance. One frequently hears of articles being moved by the spirits—poltergeists do such things, you know. But Mr Brand assured me that the collection would be safe. I could see that he had a proper respect for my bits of crockery, because he couldn’t resist handling some of them as we were talking. That is the way they affect a man of taste. You need not hesitate to do the same.’
‘My thanks, ma’am,’ said Cribb, retaining a firm grip on the edge of the table behind him. ‘If I may, I’d like to put a question to you that you might consider impertinent.’
‘I don’t expect I shall,’ said Miss Crush, with an encouraging smile.
‘Very well. How much did you pay Mr Brand for his services as a medium?’
‘His fee was ten guineas. I gave him a little extra because it was such a productive seance. Lady Bratt saw a spirit hand, you know.’
‘And were you satisfied that all the phenomena were genuine?’
‘Absolutely, Sergeant. Well, I will admit that Lady Bratt is an excitable person and might have been mistaken about the hand, but we all felt the table move and heard the tapping.’
‘It feels a pretty solid piece of furniture to me,’ said Cribb, turning to examine the understructure. He stopped, peered underneath and was so unprepared for what he saw that he rapped his head on the underside of the table. ‘God help us, ma’am, there’s a man under here!’
‘I know,’ said Miss Crush, matter-of-factly. ‘You may come out now, Mr Strathmore.’
Strathmore! The man from the Life After Death Society.
He emerged slowly on all fours like an exhibit at the zoological gardens coming out to sun itself. The brown worsted of his suit encompassed his bulk, but not without definite indications of strain from the exceptional posture. Upright, he was revealed as a short man, burly, not obese. He jammed a monocle over his right eye and said, ‘There is absolutely no need to go for your truncheon, Sergeant. One had a very good reason for being where one was. I am not your burglar, I promise you. Search me if you like. All you will find are my watch, a notebook, two pencils, a magnifying glass and a tape measure.’
‘I’m sure it isn’t necessary, sir,’ said Cribb. ‘I was just a little unprepared to find—’
‘A man under my table?’ said Miss Crush. ‘I thought of telling you when you first came in, but it is not the sort of thing a lady cares