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“No, she is faking,” Mark whispered. “Just watch.”

Nobody made any attempt to correct him and they watched Madame Humphries eventually sit upright again. She had some sort of white froth coming out of her mouth, or was that cloth?

Despite the fact that Harriett knew the woman was pretending, and undoubtedly had props tucked away somewhere in her skirt, she couldn’t help but be caught by the atmosphere within the room. The tension was so thick that she struggled to breathe.

“I have a message for Bob. Bob. Bob. I have a message for Bob.”

“Can anyone take a Bob?” Miss Hepplethwaite called when the room remained silent.

Madame Humphries’ words were low and deep in timbre but, unsurprisingly, when she began to speak, the frothy cloth dropped onto her lap. She clearly couldn’t speak with a mouthful of muslin. Mark studied the cloth and wanted to study it a bit more closely. His thoughts turned to Minerva Bobbington’s death, and the small square piece of cloth that had choked her. Had it been one of Madame Humphries’ props that had inadvertently dropped into Minerva’s drink? He scowled and leaned sideways in his seat to talk to Harriett.

“Are you alright?”

“I am fine, Mark,” she hastened to reassure him.

“This is nothing but fraud.”

“It has to stop before they cause somebody some real harm.” She glanced at Hillary and her friend, who now glared at each other in the darkness.

“I agree. Will you be alright if I have to draw this to a halt?”

“Of course I will,” Harriett replied and smiled at him through the shadows.

The gentleness of her smile and the calm acceptance in her eyes made him want to kiss her. He hated to bring the evening to a halt because it meant that he would have to take her home. It was still relatively early, but he couldn’t allow such shenanigans to continue and people to get so upset, not while there was still a murderer at large and the supposed clairvoyants were under suspicion of fraud.

As a member of the Great Tipton Constabulary, he couldn’t exactly sit in the congregation and allow the collection box to be handed around while he suspected that these women were obtaining money by deception. Fraud was fraud at the end of the day, and he couldn’t turn a blind eye to it, even for one evening. The props they were using were enough to prove that they were trying to fool the audience. He glanced at his mother who nodded her acceptance.

“Do what you need to Mark.”

Despite his words, Mark sat in his chair for several moments and continued to watch. A strange haze appeared above Madame’s head, which he was convinced was nothing more than thin muslin wafted in front of mirrors. Whatever it was, it was certainly nothing spiritual.

“I have a message from Edward. Can anyone take an Edward?”

One person stood up. “I can.”

“You work down the mines.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You have to be more careful. There is going to be a fall. A big fall and it will result in many deaths.”

Someone from the back of the room gasped.

“I am married to Edward. Is this message for me?” A rather timid looking woman stood nervously and glanced around her, clearly worried sick.

“It is for the man who is having an affair. He is a traitor to your marriage. You should not trust him.”

The woman gasped and began to cry.

“That’s enough,” the elderly woman beside her demanded. “We know you are charlatans. You have heard the ridiculous gossip. You were talking to Esmeralda Morris yesterday. She was the one who started this nefarious gossip that is based on absolute rubbish. I insist that you stop this nonsense now.” Her voice rang loudly in the room.

“I am only telling you what the spirits are telling me. I am merely a channel for their voice.”

“You are no more spiritual than I am,” the woman scoffed. “If you think for one second that I am going to sit here listening to any more of this nonsense you can think again.”

A chorus of cries heralded her outburst, and the room began to grow restless. Mark sensed the anger in the air and knew that if he didn’t do something now the entire room would be thrown into chaos.

He stood and moved to the front of the room. “Someone light the gasoliers, now please.” He pointed to a tall, energetic looking man at the back of the room. “Go and fetch several constables from the Station, and be quick about it.”

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