A Case of Spirits

authority on electrical matters and has been examining the apparatus at Richmond, and Dr Benjamin, the police surgeon, who attended the post mortem examination conducted by the Home Office Pathologist this morning. The official report will be issued later, of course, but Dr Benjamin should be able to tell us the salient points this afternoon. Now be so good as to call in Constable Thackeray.’

Were it not for its location, the conference might have been taken for another seance. Jowett actually sat with his hands palm downwards on the table, but that was from vanity; he liked it to be known that he went regularly to a manicurist. Mr Cage, slimly-built and with deep-set pale blue eyes any medium would have envied, was on his left. Dr Benjamin, more conventionally handsome, with a black moustache and a glint in his eye suggesting he was capable of getting in touch, though not perhaps with spirits, sat next to him, opposite Thackeray and Cribb. A clerk waited with pen poised at a desk in the corner of the room.

‘Let us dispense with formalities, gentlemen,’ suggested Jowett. ‘Dr Benjamin, we are all desirous of knowing the results of the post mortem examination. Did you ascertain the cause of death?’

Dr Benjamin nodded. It was clear from the way he then produced a box from his pocket (which Thackeray for one moment imagined contained a souvenir of the morning’s work) and took snuff, that he saw no reason to expand upon this response. The information would have to be prised from him.

‘It was not from natural causes, I presume?’ said Jowett.

‘No.’

‘There was a weakness in the heart, we understood.’

‘Confirmed,’ said Dr Benjamin.

‘So that a moderate electric shock would have killed him,’ Jowett continued.

‘Possibly,’ said the doctor.

‘Did you not establish that?’

‘No. Not moderate. Massive.’

At this Mr Cage jerked to life. ‘Massive? Impossible. That apparatus could not have put more than twenty volts through the man. I checked it myself.’

‘Then you’re wrong,’ said Dr Benjamin simply.

‘Wrong?’ repeated Cage as if he had not heard correctly. ‘Perhaps you are not aware that I have given lectures upon electrical theory at the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge and in all the principal capitals of Europe. Dr Probert’s apparatus was incapable of electrocuting a man. I stake my reputation on it.’

Jowett turned to Dr Benjamin, ‘Then what evidence is there that Brand died of a massive electric shock?’

The doctor showed by his expression that he regarded the question as a breach of etiquette. He had named the cause of death; that ought to be enough for a set of policemen. He tersely catalogued the findings. ‘Severe contraction of the muscles, causing several splittings and fractures of the bones. Widespread destruction of tissues, including necrosis of areas of muscle and certain internal organs.’

‘Quite impossible!’ insisted Cage. ‘Injuries on that scale could only have been caused by a force of several hundred volts. I have myself sat in the chair with the power turned on and felt no untoward effects.’

‘The transformer that Dr Probert constructed did provoke some comment,’ said Jowett, with a glance at Cribb. ‘Could it have been faulty, and so transmitted the full current to the chair?’

‘I subjected the transformer to a series of tests in my own laboratory,’ said Cage, ‘and I can assure you that there is no fault in the construction. I shall tell the coroner so on oath. I have science on my side, gentlemen.’

‘I have an electrocuted corpse on mine,’ retorted Dr Benjamin.

Jowett interposed a cough. ‘We appear to have reached an impasse, gentlemen. I do assure you both that your findings are not in doubt. Somehow we have to find an explanation which fits all the evidence, and I begin to suspect that it might be something quite extraordinary. You see, gentlemen, I have the advantage over all of you, in that I was present from the start of the seance that preceded Mr Brand’s death. My fellow-officers here will attest that I have both feet on the ground-I am speaking figuratively, for Heaven’s sake, Thackeray-and I am not given to flights of imagination or hallucinations.’

Cribb, who was determined not to commit himself to anything approaching insubordination, nodded once.

‘But I tell you,’ Jowett went on, ‘that in that seance I saw a spirit hand hovering in the air, a moving, disembodied hand, blue in colour, shining luminously through the darkness. Others saw it as well, and two at least were touched by it. Later, fruit was thrown about the room, overturning a vase of flowers. I did not imagine these things, gentlemen. I am a senior police officer, trained to observe accurately. The things I saw on Saturday night at Dr Probert’s convinced me that this spiritualism, for all its dubious practitioners, is not lightly to be dismissed. If there is such a thing as a genuine medium, Peter Brand was one. On Saturday, however, the spirit he was contacting appeared to be hostile. Oranges, as I mentioned, were flung at one of the sitters.’ Jowett lowered his voice. ‘I hesitate to say this within Scotland Yard itself, but I am almost disposed to think, in the absence of any rational explanation, that the death of Mr Brand was induced by a supernatural agency.’

‘A hostile spirit, do you mean?’ said Cage.

‘If you insist, yes,’ said Jowett. ‘There are unknown forces just as powerful as electricity, we may be sure.’

‘Poppycock!’ said Dr Benjamin.

‘I beg your pardon,’ said Jowett.

‘Supernatural agency be blowed!’ said Dr Benjamin. ‘Brand was a charlatan. Have you never heard of Blue John?’

‘Blue John? He is not known to me.’

‘It’s a substance, not a person.’

‘I am at a loss to understand what you are talking about, Doctor.’

‘That’s obvious. Before the post mortem we were asked to pay particular attention to the hands of the deceased. On examination we found a number of minute particles adhering to the surface of the right palm. When we analysed them they proved to be crystals of calcium fluoride, or fluorspar- in layman’s language, Blue John. There is a quick method of identifying the fluoride ion, which we carried out, heating the substance in concentrated sulphuric acid and holding a plate of clear glass over it. The hydrofluoric acid so produced etched the glass, rendering it opaque. Blue John, without a doubt.’

Jowett was still shaking his head. ‘I fail to see-’

Dr Benjamin turned his eyes heavenwards, inviting everyone round the table to share his exasperation at Jowett’s incomprehension. ‘When Blue John is gently heated,’ he said, as if talking to a child, ‘he glows in the dark. Have you not heard of fluorescence? The spirit hand you saw was the medium’s, coated with fluor-spar, which he had warmed at the fire before the seance commenced. And if you don’t believe that establishes Brand as an impostor, you might reflect on the fact that under his normal clothes he was wearing a nightshirt, in the pocket of which we found a small bag of talcum powder. You obviously have a closer acquaintance with the spirits than I, but I believe that people who have encountered them have observed that in their manifested form they have white faces and long, flowing garments.’

Jowett was pale enough to have slipped on a nightshirt himself and caused havoc in the corridors of Scotland Yard. ‘We are-er-deeply in your debt Doctor. This is remarkable information. Greatly to be commended.’

‘We can’t claim much credit,’ said Dr Benjamin. ‘We were acting upon the suggestion contained in a note we received before the post mortem. It categorically requested us to examine the palms for Blue John.’

‘Really?’ said Jowett weakly. ‘Did you discover who wrote the note?’

‘It was one of your chaps, or we shouldn’t have acted upon it. A Sergeant Cribb.’

‘My godfathers!’ said Jowett. He turned to look at Cribb, who had seldom felt so uncomfortable.

‘I say, was it you?’ asked Cage. ‘You’re a quiet one, by Jove!’

‘How the devil did you know about Blue John?’ demanded Jowett.

Cribb had pledged himself to keep out of trouble by not saying a word.

‘Speak up, man!’ ordered Jowett.

That made it insubordination to remain silent. ‘I spent a few months in Derbyshire when I was in the army, sir. Blue John is also known as Derbyshire Spar. It’s common there.’

‘Well, you might have had the decency to stop me earlier, when I was talking about supernatural forces.