One Man Left by Ron Finch

Author:Ron Finch [Finch, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ron Finch
Published: 2024-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

Wednesday, June 21st

“Can you believe there’s another séance tonight, Georgie?” I said, adjusting my tie in the mirror.

“No, I can’t believe it,” said Georgie from the bed. “That tragedy at Barbara Watkins’s was only a week ago. I’m not sure why the urgency to hold the next séance so soon.”

“You and I aren’t believers, Georgie, but I guess, for those who are, séances are extremely important.”

“‘Not believers’ is a strange thing to hear from someone who speaks to ghosts on a regular occasion,” said Georgie, propping herself up against a stack of pillows.

“Essences, dear. And I don’t mean believers in ghosts; I mean believers in Plimpton. How’s the tie?” I turned to face her.

“As straight as it ever is or ever shall be,” said Georgie. “Come here and I’ll fix it.”

“Dr. Plimpton was booked several months ago to conduct the séances here in London,” I said as Georgie wrangled with my tie. “The first four séances have been held, but he still has a booking at the McKelvie residence tonight, and his final booking at the Brightman’s home on Wednesday, June 28th. Dr. Plimpton has to leave London by Friday, June 30th, because he has other séances booked in cities all across North America, and he won’t be back in the London area again for at least a year.”

“It sounds like you’ve memorized his itinerary,” she said, tugging the tie. “So, you don’t think he’s too frightened to go ahead with the séance?” she asked with a devilish grin.

I couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m convinced he’s genuinely worried about it,” I said, kissing her on the tip of her nose, “but because he’s only encountered lights and noises this one time at Watkins’s, I think he’s overcome his fear. Although he’s asked me to be present just in case.” I took my jacket off the back of the chair and slipped it on. “Did you want to go to the séance with me tonight?”

“I’m going to pass,” said Georgie, with a wince as she shifted her weight. “I’m not feeling that comfortable today, Joel. I wouldn’t be surprised if Junior comes sometime very soon.” She patted her belly and smiled.

After returning from Alice Mulder’s home yesterday, I had dropped in to the station to see Chief Bedgegood for a minute. I’d told him what I suspected and had asked his permission to have a few extra constables on duty tonight around the McKelvie home.

“If you think your plan for this evening might result in my aunt Celeste getting her British biscuit box back, with all the papers it contained, I’m in favour of your request,” he’d said. “I’ll even request that Insp. Simpson have his trained squad on the grounds tonight.”

“That would be very helpful, sir,” I’d replied. “He has an excellent team. Please remind him I don’t want anybody shot.”

Chief Bedgegood had grinned, as if the thought didn’t entirely displease him.

“After I’ve talked to him, Joel, I’ll have him come and talk to you about the details of your plan.”

This morning, half an hour after I arrived at the station, Insp.

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