Fixing To Die

An’gel had to admire Steinberg’s self-possession after that startling announcement. His bland expression never wavered, though An’gel thought he blinked a couple of times. Then it dawned on her that she had been right about the medium’s whereabouts. Mrs. Pace had been upstairs, probably in the room with the body, before the authorities arrived. Snooping around, no doubt, but why?

“I see. Mrs. Pace, isn’t it?” He waited for the medium to affirm that. “Are you in the habit of communicating with the spirits, ma’am?”

“I am a psychic medium,” she responded with a bit of hauteur. “I have helped police in similar cases before.”

An’gel wondered what the medium’s angle was in this display. She didn’t really believe Mrs. Pace had communicated with Nathan Gamble after death. She was making the whole thing up. She had to be, An’gel decided. The question was, why? Maybe the woman was simply delusional and needed medical attention herself.

“What did he tell you? That he was murdered?” Serenity Foster’s harsh tones brought everyone’s attention back to her.

Wilbanks immediately remonstrated with her, but Serenity ignored him and started repeating her questions to Primrose Pace.

Steinberg’s voice rang out. “Quiet, everyone, please.” He nodded to the medium. “Go on, ma’am.”

“As I was trying to tell you, Lieutenant,” Mrs. Pace said with a hostile glance at Serenity, “I have helped the police before. With missing persons mostly, but those cases often entailed suspicious deaths. This death, however, was nothing like that.” She paused, and the silence lingered.

An’gel wished the medium would get to the point. She really wanted to hear what the woman would say. She almost felt like speaking up but knew that the lieutenant would not appreciate it.

“Please, go on,” Steinberg said after the pause had stretched out uncomfortably long.

“Mr. Gamble died peacefully. His spirit was a bit confused, of course, with the sudden transition. You see, they are often like this, especially when they aren’t expecting it.” Mrs. Pace shook her head dolefully. “And so often no one is there to encourage them on their way.”

“How exactly do you encourage them on their way?” Steinberg asked.

“I tell them that they have to accept the fact that they have passed on,” Mrs. Pace replied. “Few souls are ready to accept that right away, you must understand. Most don’t want to leave the earthly plane and their loved ones. It’s even harder for them if they have a message they want to give their loved ones.” She shook her head again in the same doleful manner. “It’s truly tragic for some of them, and their loved ones are often desperate for some last word.

“Then once they have begun to accept that they are no longer part of the mortal world,” Mrs. Pace continued, “I tell them to look toward the light. Some see it more quickly than others. Some embrace it gladly. Others have to be encouraged to do it.”

“Do any of them ever refuse?” Dickce asked.

An’gel frowned at her sister but she was as curious as Dickce, she admitted to herself, to hear the medium’s answer.

“Yes,” Mrs. Pace replied. “They hang on, refusing to believe that they are dead. They can cause terrible mischief sometimes in their anger and denial. Like the spirit in this house. She is one who refuses to move on. Something has bound her here, but I haven’t been able to figure out yet what it is.”

“There’s a spirit here?” Steinberg asked, his expression still bland. “Where is it now?”

Mrs. Pace shrugged. “She’s hidden herself for the moment. I doubt she is happy that there are so many strange persons in her house.”

“Let’s get back to Mr. Gamble for the moment,” Steinberg said. “You assisted his spirit. Did his spirit go willingly?”

“Not at first,” Mrs. Pace said. “He needed coaxing, but once he understood that he had died and could not go back, he seemed eager to embrace the light.”

“That’s good, I guess.” For the first time Steinberg’s facade slipped, and An’gel thought he was losing patience with the medium. “Now, exactly where were you when all this communicating was taking place, ma’am?”

“In the room with his corporeal self, naturally,” Mrs. Pace said. “I would have thought that was obvious. The spirit usually remains quite close to its former shell until it is ready to move on, or the body is removed from where the person died.”

An’gel could tell that the lieutenant wasn’t happy to find out that Mrs. Pace had been in the room. Even if Nathan Gamble’s death had been completely natural, An’gel thought, Mrs. Pace had no business being in there. She wasn’t a member of the family, and she had no official standing as a medical or legal person.

“Mrs. Pace, I’d like you to come with me for some further questions,” Steinberg said. “Mr. Catlin, is there another room we can use for a little while?”

Henry Howard nodded. “Sure, the front parlor across the hall, or the library. It’s the room next to the parlor. Either one.”

“Thank you,” Steinberg said. “We’ll use the parlor. Mrs. Pace, if you please.”