Louisa and the Crystal Gazer by Anna Maclean

Author:Anna Maclean [Maclean, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781101576144
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2012-02-07T05:00:00+00:00

“VERY, VERY INCONVENIENT,” Mrs. Deeds fumed at us over her maid’s shoulder when Sylvia, Cobban, and I arrived at her doorstep half an hour later. “I am most busy, and wish to forget this sordid business with Mrs. Percy. She was a great disappointment.” Mrs. Deeds was dressed plainly in blue wool and a white cap with no necklaces, no bracelets, no jeweled rings, quite unlike my memory of her from the séance. Why this lack of adornment from a woman who prided herself on her jewels? I wondered.

“It is important,” insisted Cobban.

She glared, then ushered us in.

Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Deeds resided at 6 Newbury Street in a large, cluttered house filled with acquisitions: cuckoo clocks from the Black Forest, rows and rows of glass vases and paperweights from Venice, painted fans from the Japans, tapestries of peacock feathers from India, huge bouquets of silk flowers. Her home felt like the interior of a shop, the type that sells mementos and gifts and never a truly needed item. The windows were hung with four layers of lace and draperies; each table—and there were many, all located where more sensible people might wish to circulate—was covered with three cloths each, one atop the other.

“I trust this will be brief?” she said when we were seated in her back parlor, where the furnishings were less fussy and had a slightly worn quality that better suited me. “I am expecting guests.”

I hazarded a guess then as to why she was dressed so plainly. She was not expecting guests, at least not guests of the usual variety. At last, my luck had changed, but I could not inform Cobban until we had a more private moment.

“We’ll need to speak with Mr. Deeds as well,” said the young constable.

She glared, knit her brows, decided a veneer of politeness would work well in the situation. “Very well. I’ll go bring him in. He is working on his insect collection. He discovered a strange moth in his wardrobe last evening.” Her smile was forced.

“Yes?” asked the beleaguered husband a few minutes later. He stood in the doorway of the parlor, his stooped posture and genuine surprise indicating he rarely was summoned from his collection to the parlor, even the back parlor.

“Please be seated,” said Cobban. “I have some questions for you about Meh-ki.”

“Who?” asked Mr. Deeds, scratching his head, ruffling the thin gray hair that fringed out from a bald circle like a monk’s tonsure.

“Mrs. Percy’s cook,” I said.

“Oh, that woman!” Mrs. Deeds exclaimed. “Bad enough that her séances were a bore, and then she died and upset my schedule for a week, for I had counted on her to come and do a private séance for a party I was giving.” Mrs. Deeds seemed very put out that her crystal gazer had had the bad taste to die before fulfilling her social engagements.

“Mrs. Percy’s cook’s name is Meh-ki, and I believe that Mrs. Percy gave you a message regarding her,” Cobban said to Mr. Deeds, who had begun wringing his hands.

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