Down the Rabbit Hole

Roarke hit on two others, with the pattern holding.

When the pizza arrived, Eve did indeed mutter—but grabbed a slice of pepperoni. The lab might have smelled like a pizzeria, with a sugary topping of fizzies, but the work got done.

“Louis Carroll Ravenwood,” Roarke announced. “McNab, do a double, would you, to confirm this is the first?”

“Can do.”

“Daresbury, England—which, as I’ve spent a little time boning up on Lewis Carroll—was where Carroll was born and raised.”

“Not a coincidence,” Eve stated.

“I’d say not. Spiritualist, offering readings, consultations, séances, and past-life regressions; 2022 to 2028.”

“His longest stint.”

“It seems. Pulling related data, I have an article or two. He claimed to be a connection of Carroll himself, through one of Carroll’s sisters. And was called to Daresbury by Carroll’s spirit, whom he also claimed to channel. He worked with his sister, not surprisingly called Alice.”

“There’s no sister mentioned in any of the other data on the other names.”

“Wouldn’t be,” Roarke confirmed, “as she died in Daresbury in 2028. Suicide.”

“Bang.” Eve’s eyes narrowed. “Mira will make buckets of shrink juice with that.”

“And more so as it was discovered Alice Ravenwood had been an addict with a taste for meth and LSD. She suffered from acute depression and, after lacing a pot of tea with sedatives, served it to herself and her brother. She died; he nearly did. He left Daresbury soon after. There’s nothing on him, under that name, past that.”

“I want to see the police report. Maybe he dosed the sister. Either way, it gave him his springboard for all the rest. Crazy bastard skins the clients, then picks one to re-create the— Fucking A, I’ve got him. Carroll Bright. Claims to be a ‘Doctor of Paranormal Studies.’ I’ve got a goddamn address.”





CHAPTER TEN




Bright sighed as he entered the lovely parlor where Ms. Harriet March was setting out the service for tea.

“My dear March, the time has come for us to move on. How do you feel about Budapest?”

“Hungry for goulash.”

He chortled, giggled, slapped his thighs. “That’s the spirit! I’ve given notice. We’ll begin packing after our session with the delightful Mrs. Melton.”

“Our Mouse signaled they’re on their way.”

“Excellent.”

“And will Mrs. Melton join her sister in the Wonderland?”

He smiled at the avid look in her eyes. He’d been right to keep her. He’d sensed her potential when she’d first come to him—seeking communication with a lost love. A shadow of darkness inside her, so easily deepened with time and patience.

And of course the tonic she’d become so fond of.

“She and her husband will make their journey tonight, even as we make our own.”

Eyes shining, she clapped her hands. “We’ve never sent two clients down the rabbit hole so close together.”

“Isn’t it fun! Our time in New York has been so lucrative, and we waited so long for the first to go. I thought sending another would be our little farewell party. And there she is now! Would you get the door, Ms. March?”

“Of course, Doctor Bright. The tea and cakes are all prepared.”

Naturally, he thought, and swallowed the little tablet that would offset the tea. He checked himself in the mirror—his favorite looking glass had traveled with him around the world. And he decided he’d use his favorite top hat for this last session in New York.

Then he turned to greet the marvelously wealthy and wonderfully hopeful Mrs. Melton.

She came to him, both hands outstretched. “Oh, Doctor Bright, I’ve so looked forward to today. I’m so anxious to speak with my sister again.”

“There’s nothing like a sister,” he said with a wide, wide grin. “Let’s have some tea.”

It would, he thought, be a lovely party.


*