Mesmerized. Candace Camp
Olivia said, “Is there some way that I can be of assistance to you, my lord?”
“I—” He looked at her and sighed. “Frankly, I don’t know. Lady Ol—”
“I prefer Miss Moreland,” Olivia said. His eyes, she thought, were really a most extraordinary color, even brighter here in the well-lit room than they had been last night. Silver—or perhaps pewter was a closer color.
“Miss Moreland,” he repeated. “I—I am afraid that we got off on the wrong foot last night.”
“You might say that, if you consider seizing me and accusing me of being a charlatan and later calling me mad ‘getting off on the wrong foot.’”
Faint color stained his cheekbones, and he looked abashed. “I did not mean—I was simply surprised when I realized who you were, and the phrase popped out. It was something I had heard over the years, and, well, in my surprise, I didn’t think. I apologize sincerely, and I assure you that I do not think that you—or your family—is insane. I am sure no one does. It is merely a—a silly appellation.”
Olivia continued to gaze at him coolly, and finally he went on. “I apologize, too, for accusing you of being Mrs. Terhune’s assistant. However, you have to admit that there were circumstances that made it seem that you were.” His eyes flashed as he said, “The scene at the séance was not entirely my fault.”
When Olivia did not answer, he sighed and stood up. “I can see I am wasting my time here.”
“No! No, wait.” Olivia popped up, too, and extended a hand as if to detain him, then blushed and let it fall to her side. “I accept your apology. What is it that you want? What can we do for you?”
He hesitated, then sat back down. “I’m not sure—well, what exactly is it that you do here?”
“We investigate the occurrence of certain odd and inexplicable events.”
“Ghosts?” he asked with an ironic undertone.
“I have never been called upon to investigate ghosts, my lord. In general, it is the people who call themselves mediums and their practices which I have investigated.”
“Like Mrs. Terhune last night.”
“Precisely.”
“Why?”
“Because I dislike fraud, my lord, and I find it reprehensible that someone deceives people, often those grieving for a dead loved one, by pretending that he or she can communicate with the dead, in particular those departed loved ones.”
“Then you don’t believe they can communicate with the spirits from beyond?”
“I have never found one yet who did,” Olivia returned crisply. “None of them have offered proof that satisfied me.”
“Do you know a woman named Madame Valenskaya?”
“I have heard of her,” Olivia replied. “I have not met the woman myself.”
“Do you think that she can communicate with spirits?”
“I have not investigated her, but based on my experience with other mediums, I would say that it is highly unlikely. In general, Lord St. Leger, mediums employ a number of tricks to make it appear that so-called spirits are in the room with them. They insist on having the right atmosphere in the room, which generally means the room must be in darkness or very low light. Then the ‘spirits’ visit them in the form of rappings or sometimes as luminous things floating in the air, or even ghostly looking people. They will offer ‘proof’ that they are not themselves causing these things to occur. This ‘proof’ usually comes in the form of their having everyone hold hands around a circle, so that someone on either side is holding the medium’s hand. They even have the people on either side place their foot upon each of the medium’s feet under the table. Then when the rapping comes, the people on either side can vouch that the medium did not use her hands or feet.”
“So how do they accomplish the rappings?”
“Some, like the Fox sisters, said that they were able to crack their toes inside their shoes and even their knees, as well, to produce the rapping. They will wear shoes that are too big for their feet, so that they can pull their foot down inside the shoe and crack the toes or even pull their feet out of the shoe altogether. Then they can crack their toes or raise their knee and knock against the underside of the table. Another common ruse is to have an accomplice in the group, and that person sits on one side of the medium. He will say that he held the medium’s hand throughout the course of the séance, but in reality, one of her hands is free. Also, under cover of darkness, the medium can arrange it so that the innocent person on the other side of her is actually taking hold of her accomplice’s hand and foot instead of her own. Then she is free to flit around the room doing whatever she pleases.”
Olivia, warming to her subject, stood up and went to a nearby cabinet, opening it to reveal a number of items inside. “This bottle contains phosphorescent paint. They can paint it on whatever object they wish to hang in the air in a ghostly glowing way—a popular one is a trumpet. They can put it on a piece of thin cloth, such as gauze, and when they are free of the table, they-or an accomplice who was not even in the room to begin with—can drape this gauze over themselves, and in the dark they give off the appearance of a ghost. I have known intelligent, even scientific, gentleman to be completely won over by the appearance of one of these ‘ghosts.’”
St. Leger came over to the cabinet and stood beside her. Olivia was tinglingly aware of his presence, the heat of his large body, the faint smell of shaving soap that clung to his skin. St. Leger looked down dubiously at the length of gauze and the tin toy trumpet and harp that had all been painted with phosphorescent paint. At length he said, “It’s absurd. Why would anyone believe these things?”
“Well, they are more impressive viewed in the dark, glowing and seeming suspended in air,” Olivia pointed out. “There is heightened tension. People are waiting for the unknown, hoping, and probably a little fearful. And if one believes, as these people do, that the medium is still firmly planted in her chair, then it must seem that these things appear freely, just hanging magically in the air. Even I, I confess, have felt a little shiver down my spine when one has appeared. And I know how the tricks are done.”
“What is that?” He pointed to a short black rod, narrow in diameter, with a clamp on one end.
“A telescoping rod,” Olivia explained, taking the rod out and pulling it out to its full length of four feet. “They can hold the objects up quite high with this, but then it can be pushed back down to a foot and easily concealed, like the other things in their capacious pockets. You will notice that the mediums always wear rather full garments, with plenty of room for deep pockets inside, where they do not show. Few people will insist on searching a medium’s body that closely. It would be considered impolite.”
He nodded. “What about this cabinet thing that Mrs. Terhune was locked in?”
“Oh, that is another ‘proof’ that the medium is not the person committing the acts those in attendance see. The medium sits down on a chair inside the cabinet, and she is tied up as Mrs. Terhune was. In these instances, the medium is skilled at getting out of knots or she has an accomplice who makes sure that the knots are loosely tied, or a combination of both. Then the door is closed and even sometimes locked. The lamp is turned out, so that no one can see, and sometimes the group is encouraged to sing to welcome the spirits. The singing helps to cover any noises the medium makes getting out of her ropes inside the box. Then she’ll put on the phosphorescent gauze and leave the box, or even just stand inside it and let her head show over the door, or hold up a painted glove or trumpet or such. Mrs. Terhune holds up pictures of people’s heads. It is quite ludicrous to see, except that most of the people there believe they are ghosts. Then the medium ties herself back up, and when the guests open the door again, she pretends to come out of her trance and wants to know what happened.”
St. Leger frowned. “It all seems so simple. So obvious.”
“It