“If your father were alive, he would never have allowed a policeman in the house,” she said, giving Frank a look that could have cut glass.
“Then please leave us alone so we can finish our business and he can be on his way as quickly as possible, Mother,” he suggested, turning the full force of his charm on her.
She had probably never refused him anything, and she could not start now. He was already moving her toward the door. “I’ll want to know exactly what you talked about,” she warned him before sweeping out of the room. Cunningham watched after her to make sure she was well and truly gone and then closed the door securely behind her.
When he turned back to Frank, his charming smile had vanished. “What in God’s name are you doing here?” he demanded savagely.
“I need to ask you a few more questions about what happened the other day.”
“The Professor told me that some Italian boy had killed that woman,” he said. Obviously, he had also paid a visit to Waverly Place in hopes of finding Madame Serafina at home and no longer under the protection of Mrs. Gittings. “Why aren’t you out looking for him?”
“We are looking for him,” Frank said, biting back his own impatience. “In the meantime, I’m trying to get enough information to prove he did it so when we bring him to trial, none of you will have to testify.”
Cunningham’s eyes grew wide. Plainly, he hadn’t considered this possibility. “I can’t help you. I didn’t see anything at all,” he protested.
“Maybe not, but I still have a few questions to ask,” Frank said, pulling out his notebook again. “Maybe that will help you remember what happened.”
“I remember exactly what happened,” Cunningham insisted. “And now I’d like to start forgetting all of it!”
Frank ignored his outburst. “Did you see anyone in the séance room except the people around the table?”
“Of course not. That would have been…” He gestured vaguely. “Unacceptable,” he finally decided. “Why should anyone else be in there?”
“Did you look in the cabinet?”
“The cabinet? Why should we look in there?”
“To make sure no one was hiding in it,” Frank suggested. “Someone who could pretend to be a spirit or something.”
He frowned and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “I didn’t look inside it,” he said. “I don’t know if anyone else did, but I never saw anyone open it in all the time I’ve been going to Madame’s séances.”
Frank found that odd, but he didn’t comment. “I understand that everyone was holding hands around the table.”
“We were holding each other’s wrists. I told you that already.”
“Which means nobody sitting at the table could have stabbed Mrs. Gittings.”
“Nobody sitting at the table would have wanted to stab her,” he said with frown. “Besides, that Italian boy did it, so why are you asking me all these questions about the people in the room?”
“Because some of the people sitting at the table did want to kill her,” Frank said baldly.
Cunningham’s eyes widened, and then he winced. “I… Can we sit down? I have the devil of a hangover, and I’m having trouble following this.”
Frank obligingly took a seat on one of the chairs by the fireplace that Cunningham indicated. He sat down on the other and rubbed his temples a moment before looking at Frank again.
“Did you say some of the people at the séance wanted to kill Mrs. Gittings?” he asked.
“Yes, I did,” Frank confirmed. “And from what I’ve been told, you are one of them.”
“Me!” he almost squeaked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“I’m talking about how you wanted to take Madame Serafina as your mistress.”
Cunningham visibly paled. “That’s… not true,” he tried, his voice a croak.
“But she wouldn’t leave Mrs. Gittings,” Frank continued as if he hadn’t heard the denial. “She was loyal because Mrs. Gittings had done so much to help her, but Mrs. Gittings wasn’t very loyal in return, was she?’ Frank asked. “She offered to sell the girl to you, didn’t she?”
“Absolutely not!” Cunningham tried, but not very convincingly.
“How much did she want for her?” Frank asked with interest.
“A gentleman never discusses-” he tried, but Frank interrupted his feeble outrage.
“More than your allowance would cover, I’d guess,” Frank continued relentlessly. “And I already know you won’t get your full inheritance until you’re twenty-five. Where were you going to get the money, Cunningham?”
While Cunningham sputtered incoherently, Frank pretended to consult his notes.
“Oh, that’s right,” he recalled. “You were going to make some investments. That’s what you were asking your father about at the séances, wasn’t it?”
“Who told you that?” Cunningham demanded.
“Just about everybody,” Frank lied. “They all heard the questions you asked your father.”
“I forbid you to discuss my father,” Cunningham tried.
“All right,” Frank said obligingly. “Let’s talk about those investments. I understand they weren’t very successful.”
“That’s none of your business!”
“But they weren’t, were they? And I understand you lost a lot of money. Not what your father would have wanted for you, I’m sure. Do you really think your father would have given you such bad advice?” Frank asked.
The question surprised Cunningham. He stared at Frank in almost comic amazement. “I… I never thought of that.”
“Well, think about it. What do you know about these men you invested with?”
Cunningham blinked. “I… Nothing, really.”
“How did you meet them?”
“They… they approached me one evening at… at a gentlemen’s club.”
Frank figured the men at this club rarely acted like gentlemen. “Why did you trust them?”
He was rubbing his temples again. “Because my father had told me… I mean, his spirit had told me I would meet someone who would offer me an opportunity. Then the next night, I met them. It seemed… It seemed like fate!”
Frank nodded sagely. “Let me guess, they told you about this business opportunity, and you offered to invest, but they refused to take your money.”
Cunningham was gaping at him again. “Yes, that’s exactly what happened! How did you know? I couldn’t believe it! I had to practically beg them to let me invest. They said they didn’t think it was right to take my money in such a risky venture, but I knew it wasn’t a risk at all.”
“Except it was.”
“What?” he asked stupidly.
“It was a risk, because you lost all your money.”
Cunningham still seemed confused by this. “But I did exactly what my father had told me to do. It shouldn’t have worked out like that.”
“Have you ever seen these men again?”
“No, I haven’t,” he said in renewed surprise. “Not since they told me the venture failed. I suppose they were embarrassed.”
Frank let that pass. “So there you were, still wanting the girl-”
“She’s not just a girl,” Cunningham protested. “Stop calling her that!”
“Madame Serafina then,” Frank conceded. “You still wanted her, but you’d lost all your money, and your mother wouldn’t give you any more, and you couldn’t hope to be able to pay Mrs. Gittings what she wanted. What were you going to do?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” Frank insisted. “What were you going to do?”
Cunningham was starting to look a little sick. “I… I needed to speak with my father again, to find out what went wrong. I needed his advice.”
“Did he give you advice when he was alive?” Frank asked with interest.
This time, Cunningham’s face grew brick red. “He never had time,” he admitted reluctantly.
Frank nodded. The boy had been ignored by his father and indulged by his mother. No wonder he was worthless. Six months after he came into his inheritance, the money would be gone.
Frank pretended to consider what he had been told. “So you had lost the money you invested, and you couldn’t pay Mrs. Gittings to let Madame Serafina go. What were you going to do?”