The Medium

"Where did you go?" I asked Jacob. "Did you stay to listen to Mrs. White and Blunt?"

"I did but they returned to their respective offices without speaking to one another." Considering this disappointment he looked rather pleased about something. "So I paid those three boys a visit. They were quite talkative."

I repeated the conversation so far for George's sake. "Go on," I said to Jacob when I'd finished. "What did the boys say?"

"They were arguing among themselves about whether you were searching for Maree because you were genuinely concerned for her welfare as you claimed, or to have her arrested."

"Arrested! For stealing a book? Goodness, who would do something like that to the poor girl?"

George's step faltered and he almost tripped over his own feet. He pushed his glasses up his nose and gave me a quick, unconvincing smile. "Who would indeed?"

Jacob grunted. "Anyway, opinion was divided with only one of them on your side, the one called Fife. He wanted to know why the boy named Harry didn't tell you about Tommy Finch's last visit to the school only three nights ago."

"Three nights!" I stopped. George halted alongside me and waited patiently while I spoke to Jacob.

"Yes," Jacob said. "After Maree stole the book."

I told George what Jacob had said. "Did he say who Tommy saw on his visit?" I asked. "Another pupil? A teacher?" Or Mrs. White or Blunt themselves?

"No but I got the feeling Finch returned to the school regularly and these three boys all knew it."

"I wonder what he wants now that his sister no longer attends," George said.

We were contemplating that when a girl of no more than ten or eleven carrying a basket full of violets came from seemingly nowhere. She was dressed in clothes that looked to be older than her if their dirty, patched-up state was any indication. Her head and hands were bare and she shivered as a breeze whipped around us. "Please, sir," she said to George, "buy my flowers, sir. Buy some lovely violets for the pretty lady." She pulled out a bunch of the purple flowers and tried to shove them into George's hand.

"Go away," he said, batting them aside. "We're not interested." He clicked his tongue and put his hand at my back to steer me around the girl.

She sniffed and wiped her nose on the shoulder of her dress but her long brown hair got in the way and she wiped it on the stringy strands instead. She didn't seem to notice as she blocked our path and thrust the flowers at me. "Please buy a poor girl's flowers, sweet lady." She sniffed again and her big brown eyes blinked up at me. "Buy some pretty violets for your dressing table, miss."