The Dark Between Part 12

Kate peered through the lens. "When should I take the photograph? How will I know when you're seeing a spirit?"

Elsie frowned. "Good question. I'm not certain I'll be able to tell you." She turned to him. "What do you think, Asher?"

He thought back to her convulsions at the British Museum. After the initial seizure she'd gone deathly quiet and still. Then what happened? Had she opened her eyes? That was it-she'd appeared to be looking at someone or something. It had almost seemed that she was listening.

"Wait until she goes quiet and opens her eyes," he said to Kate. "She'll still be in the trance, but I'm guessing that's when she experiences her vision."

Elsie rubbed her temple, frowning. "I purposely didn't take my medicine this morning, and my head is beginning to pound most dreadfully."

"Then we should get on with it," Kate said simply.

Asher crossed his arms. "What can I do?"

"Have an open mind," Elsie said.

Her direct gaze brought heat to his cheeks. He nodded slowly and shoved his hands back in his pockets.

Elsie made her way to where she'd stood the day of the photograph. She clasped her hands and closed her eyes. Asher turned to see Kate peering through the camera lens. With her head down the curve of her neck seemed almost swan-like.

He looked back at Elsie. She swallowed but did not open her eyes. Her pale cheeks and grimly clenched mouth softened his irritation. Another glance at Kate caught her watching him. She frowned, and they each turned back to Elsie.

But nothing was happening.

Asher watched in silence for several more minutes. He did not look at Kate again, but he heard her feet shuffling.

Finally Elsie moaned. Her head turned to the side, eyebrows arched. Next to him, Kate placed her hand on the shutter.

Asher held his breath as a curious sensation fluttered in his chest-a feeling strangely akin to hope.

Chapter 16.

Kate watched through the camera lens as Elsie reached out, her fingers stretching as though they clutched for something that just eluded her grasp. After a moment, however, Elsie sighed and shook her head. Her eyes opened, and Kate knew this was not part of the trance Asher had described. Elsie's eyes were focused on the camera, and her mouth drooped.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

Kate was surprised by her own disappointment. Had she expected Elsie to lift her head, much like Mrs. Martineau, and announce the arrival of a spirit presence? Had she really thought Billy might speak through the girl? She'd never believed in any of that during her time with the medium, but Elsie's story had made the possibility so vivid in her mind that it had been easy to push aside the shame of trapdoors and spirit dances.

Swallowing a sigh, Kate stepped back from the camera. "You saw nothing at all? You almost seemed to ..."

"I felt that cold darkness just briefly. It seemed to cloud around me, but then it receded."

"Discouraging," said Asher.

"Not for you." Anger sharpened Elsie's tone. "I'm sure this is exactly what you expected to happen."

"Let's not waste time arguing," said Kate quickly. "Why not move along to where Billy was found?"

Elsie's brow furrowed. "My head aches." She rubbed her temples as she turned to Asher. "Where was he found?"

"Queens' Green," Asher said.

Elsie nodded. "That's not very far. Did my uncle say exactly where in Queens' Green? And who found him?"

Asher shook his head. "I don't remember. He seemed reluctant to speak about it-didn't he, Kate?"

Kate thought back to that night. "Yes, he did. And it seemed to bother Mrs. Thompson. She yammered on about Trinity students luring vagrants into drinking themselves to death. He brushed that off, but he couldn't-or wouldn't-explain why the police came to Summerfield. I wonder how they even knew to look for Billy? Did someone find his ..." She faltered. "Did someone find him in Queens' Green and alert the police?"

Elsie turned to her. "Did you ask when you went to see the body?"

"I didn't think to," Kate said. "I was nervous."

Elsie's expression softened. "Of course you were." She ma.s.saged her temples a moment longer before dropping her hand. "I suppose we must stroll through the Green."

Asher glanced back at the Gatehouse. "Aren't we supposed to stay on Summerfield grounds?"

"That was the rule yesterday," Kate said. "We've been given no orders about leaving college grounds today."

She led them to the wide gra.s.sy s.p.a.ce that lay along the River Cam behind Queens' College. Starting at Silver Street, Kate held Elsie's hand as the girl took cautious steps. Asher followed a few paces behind, carrying the camera. Together they continued along the Green until they reached the northern border of the college. At that point they turned and walked the opposite direction, this time nearer to Queen's Road. Kate released Elsie's hand when they reached Silver Street once again. "That's the end."

Elsie shook her head. "I felt nothing at all-not even the slightest chill."

Kate waited for Asher's inevitable cutting remark, but he merely frowned as though deep in thought. At least he had the grace not to look triumphant. She turned back to Elsie. "What do you think it means?"

Elsie glanced toward Summerfield Road, then back at Kate. "Perhaps Billy wasn't killed here."

"How could you know that?" asked Asher.

Elsie stiffened. "I don't know anything. I've only had these visions a few times-the Chlorodyne keeps them at bay-but each time the seizure has run its course I was standing in or near the place that person died."

Kate opened her mouth, but Asher spoke over her.

"What about your episode at the British Museum?" he pressed. "The spirit you saw-are you suggesting it was the ghost of someone who died in that very gallery? You said the young gentleman caused your seizure, but he seemed very much alive to me."

"When I b.u.mped into him, I fell to the dark place," Elsie said. "As I already told you, I saw a woman. She spoke to me, and somehow I knew that she was giving me a message for the young man."

"My question still stands. Does that mean the spirit woman somehow died in the museum? That she haunts the place?"

"She wasn't haunting the museum!" Elsie raised her chin defiantly. "I think she may have been haunting the young man."

Asher shook his head. "This is exactly what I find so provoking about all of this-the complete absence of logic. Spirit visions are impossible to test because there's nothing predictable or measurable about them. Do spirits haunt people or places? Does one find them where they died, or where they lived? There is no logical pattern!"

Elsie started to speak but seemed to choke on the words.

Kate glared at Asher. "I think you've made your point."

"Ah, I'm the villain once again," he muttered. "How am I to be blamed for merely asking questions?"

"You're not the only one with questions," Elsie said in a small, tired voice. "I've been in a stupor for years with that hideous drug. I have no idea how to explain why I have these visions or why spirits behave as they do. I never asked for any of this!"

"That's the most common excuse for any medium whose 'gifts' are called into question," said Asher.

Elsie gasped. "Must you be such a brute?"

"Must you make it so easy?"

"That's enough," Kate said, noting the grey tinge to Elsie's skin, the perspiration that beaded her lip and brow. "Elsie needs her medication, and I must report to Freeman. But I'm not willing to give up just yet. Let's think on it tonight and perhaps try the old lab again later."

Elsie moved ahead, nearly stumbling as she hurried toward Summerfield and her bottle of Chlorodyne. Kate followed, wis.h.i.+ng to keep up with Elsie even if it meant leaving Asher behind. Upon turning onto Summerfield Walk, however, she felt his hand on her arm.

"Shall I ..." He cleared his throat. "I mean, do you still need me?"

"Please don't trouble yourself," Kate said crisply. She turned to see Elsie already nearing the Gatehouse. "Just leave the camera in the foyer, Asher."

She stepped quickly to join Elsie, and the two walked in silence until they reached the great iron gate of the college. Kate nodded politely as Jones let them through.

"Please don't ring the bell, Kate," Elsie whispered. "I don't want Millie to make a fuss."

"Then I shall help you up the stairs."

Elsie's brow furrowed, and for a moment Kate thought she might refuse. But then she held out her hands and Kate saw how they shook. "My aunt shouldn't see this. Perhaps you might help with my medicine?"

"Of course."

Kate opened the front door and, seeing the path to the staircase was clear, took Elsie by the arm and guided her upstairs. After softly closing Elsie's door, she led her to an upholstered chair and eased her into it.

"You're a good nursemaid," said Elsie.

"I tended to my mother before she died."

"Oh, I see. I'm terribly sorry."

Kate shrugged and turned to the vanity table, noting the delicate brushes and combs, the jeweled hairpins and the bottles of scent made of exquisitely cut gla.s.s. The room was sparingly furnished, but everything was orderly and sweet smelling. A fine lady's room. At the moment, however, the lady looked anything but fine. In fact, she grew paler by the minute. Kate scanned the table again, then turned to Elsie with eyebrows raised.

"In the drawer," Elsie whispered.

Kate opened the drawer and found two bottles of Chlorodyne and a small collection of spoons. She chose the bottle with the broken seal and twisted the stopper free. "How much?"

Elsie paused, seeming to consider. "One-no, two spoonfuls, please."

"Are you certain? You shouldn't take too much. I happen to know ... well, I've heard of people dying after taking too much Chlorodyne."

"How dreadful." Elsie stared longingly at the bottle before lowering her gaze. "I suppose you're right. One spoonful will have to do."

Kate poured the medicine with a steady hand and placed the spoon in Elsie's mouth. After a moment Elsie leaned back and inhaled deeply. "Thank you," she whispered. Kate watched in silence, waiting to see the color come back to the girl's cheeks. Soon her breathing calmed and the trembling of her hands stilled. She opened her eyes.

"The headache is fading." Elsie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "All these years I thought Mother made me take Chlorodyne so I wouldn't suffer the seizures. I always suspected she was embarra.s.sed by my convulsions, but now I wonder if Asher was right." She turned to Kate. "Do you think she's been keeping me in a stupor all this time just to protect herself?"

Kate bit her lip. "I don't know her, Elsie. Do you think your mother capable of murder?"

"Maybe." She frowned. "I don't know."

"You do, don't you?"

Elsie's cheeks flooded with color. "Yes?"

Before Kate could press further Elsie turned away, raising a hand to hide a yawn. "I feel the heaviness settling over me now."

"Shall I help you to your bed?"

Elsie shook her head slowly. "Not just yet. I really don't want to be alone. I wanted to tell you ... that I'm sorry we couldn't reach Billy today."

Kate sighed. "I was surprised by how much I wanted you to see him. I hate the thought of his spirit being troubled." She forced a smile. "And I'm sorry Asher was so rude. I hope he feels rotten about it now."

Elsie smiled. "He reminds me of my brothers. They never took me seriously, even before I ever had a seizure. Men never do."

"On the contrary-I'm certain most men must wors.h.i.+p you."

Kate regretted the words as soon as they were spoken. They were too familiar, too pa.s.sionate coming from a near stranger. But Elsie's smile didn't waver.

"Wors.h.i.+p isn't the same as respect. Every man I've known has felt the need to think for me, but perhaps all ladies suffer that from the men they know. Well"-her smile broadened-"except for my aunt."

Kate laughed. "She does seem to wear the trousers in this house, if you don't mind my saying."

Elsie straightened in the chair, her expression suddenly imploring. "Kate, you will join us at dinner tomorrow night, won't you? The gathering with Uncle's Trinity friends?"

Kate imagined a finely dressed group seated at the dinner table, enjoying a good meal and lofty conversation. Then she tried to place herself at this same table, sharing in the conversation. She couldn't see it at all. A skinny girl in a made-over blouse and brown skirt whose formal education ended when she was eleven years old? A girl who'd helped perpetrate frauds on innocent people?

She shook her head. "I'm certain Mrs. Thompson invited me out of kindness, but the idea of an evening at table with learned people doesn't sit well with me."

"I would like to have you near," said Elsie. "I'd feel stronger that way, don't you see? Having a friend with me?"

Kate blushed. "Of course, if you wish it-"

"And I have a dress you could wear, if that's troubling you. I have more dresses than I know what to do with, and nothing would please me more than to share one with you. Pick one now, and we'll make adjustments tomorrow." Her eyelids fluttered as she stifled another yawn. "Surely Aunt Helena won't make you work on a Sat.u.r.day."

"I don't know. I expect not." Kate smiled. "If you insist, I suppose I could bring myself to attend the dinner. I don't wish to offend your aunt and uncle, who have been so kind to-"

Elsie interrupted with a limp wave of her hand, yawning ferociously this time. "Then it's settled. We'll start work after breakfast. But now I think you'd best help me to my bed before I fall asleep in this chair."