Black velvet curtains were draped in heavy folds over an exit door, and similar hangings covered the windows. To Penny’s astonishment, the ceiling, painted black, was studded with silver stars.
However, the object which held her roving gaze was a large crystal ball supported on the claws of a bronze dragon.
“You are a crystal gazer!” Mr. Ayling exclaimed as he too noted the curious globe.
“I have the power to read the future with reasonable accuracy,” replied the monk. He dismissed the subject with a shrug, motioning for his guests to seat themselves before the fire.
“You spoke of searching for a Mrs. Rosenthorne—” he remarked, addressing the investigator.
“Mrs. Hawthorne,” corrected Mr. Ayling.
“To be sure, Mrs. Hawthorne. Apparently you were under the misapprehension that she is in some way connected with this establishment.”
“It was only a hope. My client has a deep interest in cults. I traced Mrs. Hawthorne and her granddaughter to Riverview, and thought possibly they might have been attracted to your place.”
“My little flock is limited to only twelve members at present. All are very humble people who have sworn to live a life of poverty, devoted to charity and faith. We have no Mrs. Hawthorne here.”
“Mightn’t she have given another name?” suggested Penny. She stretched her cold fingers to the leaping flames on the hearth.