Wait Until Midnight

TWENTY-TWO

Adam found Wilson in his club, sitting alone in a corner, drinking coffee and reading the day's edition of the Flying Intelligencer.

"Where the deuce have you been?" Wilson peered at him over the top of the paper. "Thought you'd be back hours ago." He took an envelope out of his jacket. "This telegram came for you while you were out."

Adam sat down and ripped open the telegram. It was from Harold Filby.

REGRET TO INFORM YOU NO PROGRESS IN INVESTIGATION STOP.

Adam looked up. "Have you ever heard of a village called Chillingham?"

Wilson pondered briefly. "There's a Chillingham not far from Bath, as I recall."

Adam motioned to one of the elderly servants. "Pen and paper, if you please. I want to send a telegram."

The man returned with the requested items. Adam dashed off a message.

TRY NEARBY VILLAGE OF CHILLINGHAM STOP. TRY LAST NAME OF CONNOR STOP. DISCRETION CRUCIAL STOP.

He noted Filby's address in Bath and then gave the message to the porter, who hurried off to dispatch it to the telegraph office.

Wilson raised his brows. "What was that all about?" "I will explain later."

"Well, then, did Irene Toller try to extort money in ex-change for the diary as you suspected she would when you got her message this morning?"

"No. Toller was murdered last night in a manner very similar to that in which Delmont was killed. Several violent blows to the head. Séance-room torn apart again."

"Good lord. Are you serious?"

"Yes."

^"Astonishing." Wilson reached for his coffee with a troubled expression. "This is most extraordinary. A second murdered medium will certainly heap more fuel onto the fires that have been ignited in some of the more colorful newspapers." He nodded toward the copy of the Flying Intelligencer that he had been reading. "I just finished a piece by some fool named Otford who hinted that Delmont's murder might be attributable to supernatural forces. Of all the damnable nonsense. I can only imagine what he will have to say about a second similar killing."

"Otford may prove to be a problem in other ways, as well." Adam put his fingertips together. "I will deal with him if necessary. Meanwhile, I am pursuing the possibility that Toller and Delmont were perpetrating some sort of fraudulent financial scheme."

"Ah, yes." Wilson nodded sagely. "Follow the money." "I thought your advice was cherchez la femme," Adam queried.

"Women and money often go together."

"Forgive me, sir, but that piece of wisdom is not terribly helpful in light of the fact that men and money often go together, as well"

"I will allow you that much." Wilson laced his hands over his belly. "Were you able to conduct a search for the diary at Toller's house?"

"Not a very thorough one. By the time I got to her ad-dress this morning, the police had already arrived. I man-aged to make a casual examination of the séance room and portions of the downstairs hall while I chatted with the inspector but I could hardly start opening drawers or lift up the carpet. No matter. I am certain the diary is gone."

"You believe that the killer took it?"

"It is one possibility, but there are others."

"Such as?"

"Mrs. Toller had a housekeeper who also served as her assistant and partner in some ways. She seems to have vanished. I got her name from one of the neighbors. I hope to locate her." He paused. "As it happens, Toller's death is only one of several recent events that will no doubt interest you"

"Indeed?"

"The police found a pocket watch with my name on it at the scene of the Toller murder, the time stopped presumably at the very moment the act of violence was carried out"

Everything about Wilson seemed to sharpen with alarm. "Was it one of your watches?"

"No. It was a cheap timepiece. The engraving work was poorly done, but quite legible."

"This means the killer knows that you are searching for him. He used the watch to point the finger of guilt at you."

"So it appears" Adam tapped his fingertips twice. "Matters have become more complicated. I did not want to alarm Julia, but I think the time has come to tell her and Southwood what is going on"

"Indeed. This situation has become extremely worrisome. It would be best if they were made aware of events" Wilson narrowed his eyes. "I assume the police consider you a suspect?"

Adam shrugged. "The inspector had some questions but most of them were put to rest when he discovered that I had an excellent alibi. A close acquaintance verified my claim that I was otherwise occupied when Toller was murdered."

"I am relieved to hear that" Wilson relaxed visibly. "That should make things a good deal less dire. What time was Toller killed?"

"Midnight"

Wilson nodded. "That was well after the séance had ended. You were no doubt at your club. You probably have a dozen witnesses." He gave a disdainful snort. "The killer should have had the sense to confirm your whereabouts be-fore he tried to implicate you."

"I was not at my club."

"Where were you? The theater?"

"No. I went to the rooms in Stone Street." "At midnight?"

"Yes"

"I don't understand." Wilson scowled. "When you go there, you always go alone. Who is this acquaintance who vouched for your whereabouts?"

"My very good friend, Mrs. Fordyce."

"Fordyce? Fordyce" Wilson's expression was puzzled. "Do you refer to the author Mrs. Fordyce?"

"Yes."

Wilson looked stunned. "The deuce, you say. This is no time to exhibit your eccentric sense of humor, Adam"

"It is not a joke. Brace yourself, sir. I am about to be-come embroiled in a shocking scandal involving murder and an illicit liaison with a famous sensation novelist."