The Lost Ship: A Paranormal Women's Fiction Mystery by H.P. Mallory

Author:H.P. Mallory [Mallory, H.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN:

SPENCER

The drawing room in Sophie Fenton’s house was a show of ostentatious elegance.

Heavy, dark velvet curtains bordered the tall windows, attempting to shut out the rays of the sun which still managed to cast a dim, golden light across an assortment of plush settees and ornately carved wooden furniture. The rich scent of burning wood from the fireplace filled the air, mingling with the faint but spicy tang of incense that wafted up from the burner, looking like wispy specters.

“Come now, Miss Fenton,” I said, my frustration simmering beneath my carefully maintained veneer of civility. “Surely we can find a way to resolve this issue without resorting to threats and accusations.”

It had been perhaps five minutes since the blasted woman had obtusely refused to accompany Inspector Inaudible (for the sot had yet to utter a word since we’d arrived here) and me to Mrs. Thorndike’s. In that time, I had attempted to win her over with ease, which failed miserably. Then I had offered her coin, which she’d greedily accepted before demanding more. Finally, I’d told her I’d unmask her as the fraud she truly was to the newspapers and she’d threatened to sue me for libel! Meanwhile, that blasted mute inspector had still managed not to utter a bloody word!

It seemed that Sophie Fenton—or ‘Madame Dubois’ as she called herself—otherwise known as ‘Madame Sham’, in my own opinion—was proving more resistant to my charms than most women.

“Now, you listen ‘ere,” the little twit replied, her voice cool and measured, “I ain’t wantin’ nothin’ to do with yer devil investigation, I ain’t. I’ve got me ‘ands full just keepin’ them bleedin’ spirits at bay as ‘tis, see?”

“No, I don’t see,” I replied rather irritably as she crossed her arms, and her large brown eyes flashed with defiance.

I sighed inwardly, wishing the vexing prat could understand how vital her cooperation was. As Mrs. Thorndike had described it—my paranormal abilities were linked with Pip’s abilities which, in turn, called to Madame Sham’s. Put another way—our paranormal gifts were quite like the Three Musketeers, all for one and one for all, minus, of course, the hairy mustaches and the powerful weapons. And, apparently, the camaraderie, as well.

“Miss Fenton,” I began again, trying a different tack, “I understand that you may have reservations about assisting the inspector and me, but I assure you, your talents are most essential. Indeed, we are lost without them.”

The little ninny raised a skeptical eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with my entreaty. “I don’t give a bloody toss whever you need me or not ‘cause I don’t need you! Not one bit, I don’t.” Then she threw her hands in the air and began pacing the rather small room, shaking her head and throwing the inspector and me a sharp look every now and again.

“Are you planning to respond with… at the very least… a single sound, Inspector? Perhaps a grunt or a moan that might help our cause?” I demanded of the fop, who simply looked at me with a smirk as he shook his imbecilic head.

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