"A message, you say?" The constable squinted a bit. "From the medium?"
"Yes. I came immediately."
A short, spindly, thin man in an ill-fitting suit appeared behind the first man. There was a shrewd, no-nonsense air about him.
"What's going on out there, Constable?"
"There's a lady here, Inspector." The policeman glanced back over his shoulder. "Says she got a message from the medium a short time ago"
"Well, now, isn't that interesting?" The inspector came forward. "Very interesting, indeed. And who might you be, madam?"
"My name is Mrs. Fordyce," Caroline said. She man-aged to keep her voice firm but she could scarcely breathe. "I do not believe we have met."
"Inspector J. J. Jackson, at your service. What is your business here, Mrs. Fordyce?"
The situation was growing worse by the second, Caroline thought. "As I just told the constable, I received a message. It sounded quite urgent."
A third figure emerged from the dark hallway behind the inspector.
"Good morning, Mrs. Fordyce," Adam said. He spoke in an extremely polite, very cool manner, as though they were on only the most formal of terms. "It is certainly a surprise to see you here."
Her stomach clenched. Her worst fears were confirmed. Adam had been caught inside Irene Toller's house. There was no mistaking the message that he was sending her now with his chilly, impersonal air. He wanted her to pretend that they barely knew each other.
She managed what she hoped was a bright, polite smile. "How nice to see you again, sir," she said smoothly. She did not dare to address him by name because she had no way of knowing if he was using Hardesty or Grove. "I gather that you also received a message from the medium asking you to call this morning?"
"Yes," Adam said without any inflection whatsoever. "When I arrived I found Inspector Jackson and the constable here"
"I see," Caroline said. She felt as though she were making her way through a field of nettles. "Was anyone hurt?"
"You could say that Mrs. Toller was badly hurt," Inspector J. J. Jackson announced solemnly. "She's dead."
"Dead." Unnerved, Caroline sat down hard on a small chair set against the wall directly beneath a row of iron coat hooks. "Dear heaven."
"Murdered in her séance room. The place was ripped apart. Furniture upended. Lamp broken. That sort of thing."
"Same as the other one," the constable said with a knowledgeable nod.
"Mrs. Toller appears to have been struck several times on the back of her head," Inspector Jackson continued, remarkably matter-of-fact.
"Just like the other medium," the constable offered ominously.
Caroline forced herself to think. "She cannot have been dead for very long."
J. J. Jackson rocked on his heels. "Murdered at midnight."
"Just like the other one," the constable mumbled again.
"Midnight? But that's impossible. I just had a note from Mrs. Toller." Caroline checked her watch. "It was delivered less than forty minutes ago."
Jackson raised one narrow shoulder in a shrug. "She must have written it last night and given it to her house-keeper to dispatch this morning."
Caroline looked around. "And just where is the house-keeper?"
"She hasn't turned up yet," the constable said.
"How did you learn of the murder?" she demanded. "Got an anonymous message," Jackson said. "A tip, you might say. We depend on that sort of thing."
"What makes you so certain that Mrs. Toller was killed at midnight?" Caroline asked.
Jackson cleared his throat and looked at Adam. "As it happens, we found a gentlemans pocket watch on the floor beside the body. Mr. Hardesty and I were just discussing it when you arrived."
Mr. Hardesty. So Adam had given the inspector his real name. She did not know if that boded ill or not.
"A watch?" she asked carefully.
"Same as happened with the last one," the constable said with another wise nod.
Caroline recalled Adam telling her that he had seen a broken pocket watch next to Elizabeth Delmont's body.
"I don't understand," she said evenly. "What does the watch tell you about the time of the medium's death?"
"It appears to have been smashed in the course of the struggle." J. J. Jackson moved one hand in a dramatic fashion, a magician unveiling a new trick. "The hands are stopped at twelve o'clock precisely."
"Do you believe that the watch belonged to the killer?" she asked, her curiosity resurfacing.
The inspector and the constable looked at her as if they found the question exceedingly strange. Another chill went through her.
Adam folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the wall. "The pocket watch in question is engraved with my name, Mrs. Fordyce."
"What?" She leaped to her feet, horrified. "But that's not possible."
This was far worse than she had believed. This was a case of murder. Adam might hang. The image that came to mind made her feel quite faint.
Struggling to conceal her panic, she gave Adam a quick, searching glance, silently asking for guidance. But his face remained grimly unreadable.
"Those are the facts, ma'am," Jackson announced. "No mistaking the name on the watch. Spelled out clear as a bell."
Caroline swung around to confront him. "I can assure you that Mr. Hardesty had nothing to do with the death of Irene Toller."
Inspector Jackson arched thick brows.
"Mrs. Fordyce," Adam said flatly, "I think it would be best if you refrained from commenting further on this affair."
It was an order but she had no intention whatsoever of obeying it.
"Inspector Jackson," she said in her most forceful tones. "I cannot explain how Mr. Hardesty's pocket watch came to be at the scene of the crime, but I can assure you that Mr. Hardesty himself was nowhere near this house at midnight last night"
Adam's jaw jerked in annoyance. "Mrs. Fordyce, you've said quite enough."
"And how does it happen that you are so certain of Mr. Hardesty's whereabouts last night?" Jackson asked, politely curious.
"Because Mr. Hardesty was with me at midnight, Inspector." She raised her chin. "We attended a séance here at Mrs. Toller's house earlier in the evening and then we left together in Mr. Hardesty's carriage. The other sitters will confirm that."
Jackson nodded. "Mr. Hardesty claims the séance ended around ten o'clock."
"That is correct," she said.
Jackson regarded her with keen interest. "How far away is your address, Mrs. Fordyce?"
"About half an hour, depending on traffic."
"In that case, you would have been home well before midnight, leaving Mr. Hardesty plenty of time to return to this house and commit the murder," Jackson observed.
Outraged, Caroline looked down her nose at the short man. "Mr. Hardesty and I did not go to my address directly after the séance. We spent a number of hours together. He did not deliver me home until nearly two o'clock in the morning."
"Is that a fact?" The inspector took a notebook out of his pocket. "Well, now, that is very interesting, Mrs. Fordyce. Did the two of you attend a party or the theater, perhaps?"
"No, Inspector, we were alone together in a room in Stone Street. Mr. Hardesty's coachman drove us there and picked us up a few hours later."
Adam exhaled heavily and appeared to resign himself to some inevitable fate.
"Alone together in a room in Stone Street," Jackson repeated softly, making some notes. "Very interesting, Mrs. Fordyce" He gave Adam a speculative look. "Didn't realize that the two of you were so closely acquainted."
Caroline reminded herself that she actually was an experienced woman of the world as of last night. She gave the inspector her most polished smile. "Yes, indeed, Mr. Hardesty and I are very good friends, Inspector. Intimate acquaintances, as it were. And I will be happy to testify in a court of law that he was with me last night at the time of the murder."