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notorious Messenger—a supposedly brilliant investigator who can find anyone—employing Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh as consultants but never realizing that they both have some paranormal talent is rather entertaining.”
    “A
supposedly
brilliant investigator?”
    “I didn’t mean to insult your skills. I’m sure you’re very good, sir.”
    “I found you, didn’t I?”
    She went cold. “Yes, you did. And if you went to all that effort merely to accuse me of having been a fraudulent practitioner, you have wasted your time. I have been out of that business for some months now.”
    “I’m not concerned with your talents onstage during your association with Dr. Fleming’s Academy. I’m sure your performances were excellent. I always admire skill and competence of any sort.”
    “I see.”
    “And while we’re on the subject, I do not deny that Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh both possess considerable powers of observation. Furthermore, I have always respected Mrs. Marsh’s scientific approach to investigations. But I see no reason to attribute their abilities to paranormal senses.”
    There was no point arguing with him. As Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh had often observed, those who did not believe in the paranormal could always find alternative explanations for psychical events.
    “Where have you been for the past year, Mr. Gage?” she asked.
    “I retired to the country and that is where I would have been content to remain had it not been for you, Miss Lockwood.”
    She set down her cup and saucer with exquisite care. “If you have not tracked me down to level an accusation of fraud, what is it you want from me, sir?”
    “The truth would be an excellent place to start. But in my experience that is usually the last place people wish to begin. For the sake of novelty, however, let’s try it. I will tell you what I know. You may confirm or deny the facts as I lay them out.”
    “Why should I cooperate in your game, sir?”
    He studied her with an assessing expression. “I believe you will want to assist me because I am looking for a blackmailer, and at the moment, Miss Lockwood, the evidence points to you as the extortionist.”

Nine

    S he stared at him, stunned speechless. She thought she had been braced for almost anything but this was the very last thing she could have imagined. When she finally managed to catch her breath, she shot to her feet, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
    “Accusing me of being a fraudulent practitioner is one thing,” she said. “But how dare you accuse me of blackmail?”
    He did not seem to be affected by her outrage.
    “Will you please sit down?” he asked, sounding almost weary. “If you remain on your feet good manners will oblige me to stand, too, and I would much prefer to remain seated.” He paused a beat. “The leg, you know.”
    “Oh.” She hesitated. Unable to think of anything else to do, she dropped back down on the sofa. “Explain yourself, sir.”
    “There is nothing complicated about the situation. At least, there didn’t appear to be any complications when I started. My sister is being blackmailed.”
    “I’m shocked, of course, but I’m certain I’ve never even met your sister.”
    “You’re wrong, Miss Lockwood, you have met her, although you may not recall the meeting. Her name is Hannah Trafford.”
    “I don’t know who you are—” Beatrice broke off, suddenly remembering an attractive, well-dressed lady in her late thirties whose psychical prints had radiated anxiety. “Mrs. Trafford is your sister?”
    “She attended several performances at Fleming’s Academy. She saw you onstage a number of times and was so impressed that she booked some private appointments.”
    “I do recall the appointments, but there was nothing unusual about them. I certainly did not use anything I learned from Mrs. Trafford to blackmail her.”
    “Someone at the Academy discovered my sister’s most closely guarded secret during the course of a treatment