The doorbell rang again. The Professor muttered something under his breath and went to answer it.

Frank waited as he admitted Cunningham. The young man was only a few minutes late, which meant he must be eager to see Serafina again. He’d have realized she no longer had to answer to Mrs. Gittings, and he probably wanted to make his case to her again about why she should become his mistress.

The Professor greeted him, but Cunningham wasn’t paying attention. “Where’s Madame Serafina?” he asked, looking around, and then he saw Frank. “What are you doing here?”

“Madame asked him to come,” the Professor said with a touch of irony before Frank could reply.

“Why? Are we in danger?” he asked in alarm.

“Not at all,” Serafina said. They all looked up to see her emerging from the kitchen. Her color was high, her cheeks fairly glowing, and her amazing eyes sparkled with some inner light. She carried herself like a queen, and Frank stared admiringly as she moved gracefully down the hallway toward them. “We are all perfectly safe, are we not, Mr. Malloy?”

Frank wasn’t so sure about that, but he said, “Yes, you are.”

But no one was listening to him. The other two men only saw Serafina. She held out her hand, and Cunningham took it in both of his.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he said breathlessly.

“I am glad to see you, too. Please, come inside and greet the others.”

She had to tug a bit to reclaim her hand from his eager grip, but then she turned, and he followed her into the parlor. Frank followed, too, but stopped, hovering in the doorway and aware that the Professor was hovering just behind him, listening intently to what she might say.

Everyone greeted Cunningham, and Sharpe made a remark about how he was only five minutes late. Everyone chuckled politely.

“We are all a little nervous today,” Serafina said when they were finished greeting the newcomer. “But we have nothing to fear. I asked Mr. Malloy to come, but now that I am here, I know that everything will be fine. I can feel it. The spirits are surrounding us, protecting us.”

“I thought he was here to tell us he found whoever killed Mrs. Gittings,” Cunningham said with a frown.

“The boy who did it is dead,” the Professor said over Frank’s shoulder.

The three people to whom this was news gasped, and the others stared at him in surprise.

“Do you mean that Italian boy who worked here?” Sharpe asked.

“That’s right,” the Professor confirmed. “Mr. Malloy had arrested him, but he managed to escape and now… Well, they found his body, didn’t they, Mr. Malloy?”

“That’s right,” Malloy said, loath to agree with the Professor about anything but unable to think of a reason to lie.

“How did he die?” Mr. Sharpe asked with obvious disapproval. “I hope it wasn’t at the hands of the police.”

Frank could have taken offense, but since many people had died at the hands of the police while in custody, he chose not to argue the point. “No, he was beaten to death before we could find him.”

“So there is no longer any danger,” Mrs. Burke said with palpable relief. “Nothing to worry about at all.”

“Of course not,” Mr. Sharpe assured her.

Frank glanced at Serafina and was surprised to catch her eyes burning with anger in the moment before she got control of herself again and smiled sweetly. “We are in no danger here. I told you, the spirits are surrounding us with protection. That is why I will ask Mr. Malloy to leave us. We do not need you here.”

Frank looked around to see the reactions. No one protested. No one wanted the police around if they didn’t have to be. In fact, they were all looking at him as if he were a skunk at a picnic, except Maeve, who was staring at the Professor with the oddest expression on her face, as if she wanted to knock him over the head with a vase. Maybe he had accused her of being a maid. “If you’re sure you won’t need me,” he said.

“Why should we need you?” Cunningham said with forced bravado.

“If you’re sure, Madame Serafina,” Frank repeated, ignoring Cunningham.

“I am, Mr. Malloy. Thank you for your help.” She gave him a gracious nod of her head, and Frank turned to see the Professor had already fetched his hat and was holding it out to him.

In another moment, he found himself on the front stoop with the door closed securely behind him. He saw Mrs. Decker’s carriage waiting down the street and headed for it. By the time he reached it, the driver was helping Sarah out.

“Good morning, Mrs. Brandt,” he said, unreasonably happy to see her, considering the circumstances. Although, he had to admit, these circumstances were far better than many they’d been in. At least no one was in danger of getting murdered today.

“Good morning, Mr. Malloy. Why are you smiling?”

He hadn’t realized he was and quickly stopped. “No reason. Serafina told me the plan.” He glanced around and saw they were almost to the corner. They’d have to walk down the side street to the alley and then half a block back to the back door of the house. “Are you ready for a little stroll?”

“I’d be delighted.” She took his offered arm, and they started down the street.

“We arranged that Mother would move the front curtain when they started into the séance room, so I would know when it was safe to make my entrance. I saw it move just after you came out. What was going on inside?”

“Did you know Maeve is your cousin?”

“Yes, that was the story we decided on.”

“I thought she looked very nice, but the Professor knew her for what she was the instant he saw her.”

“He can probably smell an Irish girl a mile away,” Sarah sighed. “I don’t suppose it matters, though, so long as they let her into the séance.”

“They’ll do whatever Madame Serafina wants. Serafina told the Professor that Nicola is dead, and he told everyone else that Mrs. Gittings’s killer was dead.”

“Why would he do that?” Sarah asked in surprise.

“Because they were nervous about being in the house with the killer still running loose, I guess. Or maybe he was just happy Nicola is dead and wanted to let everyone else know, too. Anyway, when they heard the killer was dead, they wanted me to leave, so I did.”

“How rude of them,” she said sympathetically.

Frank stopped when they reached the alley. “I forgot to count the houses.”

“I did while I was waiting,” she assured him. “We don’t want to go barging into the wrong kitchen.”

“No, we don’t,” he agreed. He had to admit he was enjoying walking along with Sarah’s hand tucked into the crook of his arm, as if they belonged together. But if Maeve didn’t belong with those people in the house, Frank Malloy certainly didn’t belong with Sarah Decker Brandt. Under any other circumstances, he would never even know a woman like her, much less be her friend and… well, and whatever else he was to her. He couldn’t even think about what she was to him.

“This is it,” she said. “Yes, I remember those curtains in the kitchen window.”

Frank opened the back gate, and they made their way up the flagstone path that had been overgrown with weeds last summer and was now covered with their withered remains and the first green shoots of this spring’s crop. Sarah was the first to the back door, and it opened easily. She gave Frank a conspiratorial grin and then slipped inside. He followed, ready to do very quiet battle with the Professor for possession of the kitchen.

But when they got inside, the room was empty.

“Where is he?” she asked in a whisper.

Frank shrugged. “Maybe he’s in there.” He pointed to the curtained alcove. He stepped over and pulled back the curtain, but no one was in there either. He shrugged again.

Without a word, she went to the wall opposite the back door and started to remove a picture hanging there. He hurried to take it from her. When he’d set it on the floor, he saw her pulling a plug of cotton wool from one of two holes. She pointed to the other one, and said, “Stand close to it so the light doesn’t shine into it.”