He went up the steps of the house and rang the bell. The door was opened by a sharp-featured maid. Cardona, hat in hand, inquired if the seance had begun. The maid's reply was in the negative. She stepped aside, and the detective entered. The maid took his hat and ushered him into a large room. Some forty persons were seated in chairs around the walls.
Cardona took a vacant seat, and quietly eyed the other visitors. Most of them appeared to be persons of some intelligence. While he was studying his companions, Cardona noticed them glancing toward the end of the room. Staring in that direction, the detective viewed a woman who had just entered. SHE was the medium — Anita Marie. A tall woman, past middle age, and inclined to stoutness, she had an appearance of impressive dignity. But there was a defiant attitude in her bearing, and her eyes threw a sweeping challenge as they glanced about the room.
She had the manner of a school mistress looking warningly toward misbehaving pupils. Satisfied with her inspection of the assemblage, the medium took her seat behind a table. In a harsh, rasping voice, she informed the newcomers that it was customary for visitors to the circle to make a deposit of one dollar before the seance began.
This, she explained, was not a matter of profit. It was for the protection of the clients themselves, as the fee assured them that undesirable persons would not be present to disturb the meeting. The explanation seemed thin to Cardona. By his estimate, there were more than forty persons present, which meant a good evening's business for the medium.
The detective joined the group of persons who approached the table to place their money. He nudged elbows with another man as he did so. Turning, Cardona found himself staring into a pair of piercing eyes.
The appearance of the stranger whom he had thus encountered made a distinct impression upon Cardona. The keen, hawkish visage of the man — his cold, evenly molded features produced an immediate reaction in the detective's mind.
He was sure that he had never seen the man before, yet there was a haunting glint to those sparkling eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. A moment later, the man was gone, back to an obscure corner of the room.
When all were seated, the seance began. The medium opened with a jargon of talk that eventually formed itself into a message for some one.
A man stated that he recognized initials which Anita Marie was giving, and the medium concentrated her speech upon him. So long as the man agreed with facts she told him, Anita Marie spoke with assurance. When he mildly informed her that some of her statements were incorrect, she adopted a browbeating attitude.
"The spirits do not lie!" she cried. "Don't try to argue with me. I am right and you are wrong! You are trying to disturb the messages."