Page 42 of Murder Most Haunted
Rona tried to smile but her hands trembled slightly as she quickly collected the first pile up again. ‘Obsession or addiction. It can mean either, really... Let’s try the next one.’
The fire spat suddenly, causing a small ember to land beside Midge. She stamped her cane down on to it, extinguishing the spark against the floor.
The doctor moved his hand along to the second pile and turned the next card over.
‘No!’ Rona gasped, frowning. Midge leaned back uncomfortably – Noah had banked the fire too high and sweat was beginning to pool at the base of her nylon trousers.
‘What?’ asked Gloria, wringing her hands.
‘The seven of swords,’ said Noah, peering over them and examining the card. ‘Doesn’t that usually mean...’
‘Blackmail,’ finished Rona.
‘That’s not good,’ said Harold, shoving another log on to a fire that was already too high.
Chapter26
To lighten the mood, Rona had suggested they distract themselves with a sing-song.
Although she felt no emotional connection with music, Midge could appreciate the construction of the notes and the orchestration behind it all. That said, she had been known to enjoy a simple line dance – which required only the movement of her bottom half and no sports bra. However, Rona’s back catalogue consisted of far more rhythmic bottom-slapping and swearing than Midge was accustomed to and so, after a while, she found her mind wandering to their dead host. Had he really not recognized her yesterday? And if he had, why hadn’t he said something? Although, given the circumstances of their last conversation thirty years ago, she wasn’t all that surprised. A sudden laugh from Rona brought her back to the room. Still feeling no desire to join in, Midge contemplated the piles of tarot cards in front of her.
Unnoticed by the others, she leaned forward and lifted the top card of the third pile. It was another devil, similar to that which the doctor had first turned over. Frowning, Midge quickly turned over the top card of the last remaining pile.
The seven of swords.
She tapped the top of her cane thoughtfully, holding the two sets of identical cards in her hands.
So, the top cards of each pile would have been a devil, seven of swords, a devil and another seven of swords – leaving the drawer incapable of any other combination. The chances of thathappening were 1 in 33,875. Not as low as winning the lottery, but enough to bear closer investigation.
By now, the fire had gone out in the room which was still only dimly lit for the tarot, making it hard to see. She took the four cards and pulled herself up, making her way over to the French windows, where the curtains had been drawn. To the right of the window in the corner was a tall standing lamp with a velvet shade with embroidered edging. Stepping over to it, she held the cards up to the light to examine them more closely. There was an almost imperceptible dark mark in the corner of the first one. She was just about to hold the next card up when the room was suddenly plunged into darkness.
‘Calm down, Rona!’ said Harold, trying to make himself heard above Rona’s screams.
Midge had instinctively dropped the cards and grabbed at her cane as soon as the lights went out. The low glow of the smoking embers silhouetted the tarot card table and the vague bulk of a sofa. She could hear Gloria breathing heavily nearby while Rona stood somewhere in front of them inhaling and exhaling in a way that reminded Midge of a giant bellows.
‘It’s OK, everyone,’ shouted Noah, who had moved around to the other side of the chaise longue, startling Midge. ‘We’re experiencing a paranormal intervention.’ The excitement gave his voice a shrill edge.
‘We’re experiencing a power cut, you idiot,’ snapped the doctor. ‘We’ll just have to get to the fuse box. Anyone remember where it is?’
‘It’s under the stairs,’ said Harold. ‘Jesus Christ!’ There was a terrible thudding noise of something soft connecting with something hard. ‘Who put that chair there?’
‘I can feel a chill!’ said Noah. If anyone had asked Midge, she would have pointed out that it was coming from the decrepit French windows behind her, the draught from which had beenbothering her all afternoon. But no one did. She tried to step out from behind the lamp but her cane caught on something, causing her to stumble slightly. Frowning, she reached down to see what it was. Feeling her way to the bottom of the cane, her fingers closed on a piece of string that draped along the floor behind the curtain and continued upwards along the back to the door handles. Midge gently tugged on the end. To her surprise, the curtain flew back in a dramatic flourish, pulling the door open as it did. She released the string, and the curtain dropped back into place. Surely this was how Rendell had managed to produce the effect during last night’s séance? But he had been sitting down, at the table at the time, across the vast room. This string could only have been activated by an accomplice, one who was closer to the mechanism. She was stopped from investigating any further by something barging against her, shoving her backwards and releasing her grip on the string. Before she could regain her balance, the shape had moved outside.
Rona was sobbing quietly some way across the room. There was a rattling noise from the door that led into the hallway. ‘I can’t turn the handle!’ she moaned. ‘The door’s stuck.’
‘Don’t be daft, you just need to get a bit of force behind it. Ow!’
‘Stop moving around, Harold. Has anyone got a torch?’
‘Only on my phone,’ said a voice that sounded like Noah’s.
Rona started to cry louder.
‘It’s stuck fast, like it’s locked or something,’ complained Harold, now banging on the door.
‘It’s psychokinetic door manipulation! Oh my God – two events in one day! In your face, Gustav Vlad!’
‘Who the hell is that?’
