“But you don’t have any of those things?”
“Well, in my own defense I can say that I’ve spent enough time in academic and private libraries during the past few years to pick up a lot of the fancy language that goes with the antiquarian book business. I know how to sound like a pro. Want to hear me discuss the different editions ofParadise Lostand tell you why the one with engravings by Gustave Doré is worth so much?”
“No.”
“I could also tell you why Milton is so important to the development of the English language and literature.”
“Forget it.”
“Care to discuss Christopher Marlowe’s influence on Shakespeare, perhaps?”
“We’re discussing you, not Marlowe, Shakespeare, or Milton. Do you have any formal academic degrees?”
“None. I lost my parents when I was eleven. Ended up in an orphanage. I started sensing things that no one else could detect when I turned twelve. At first I thought I was picking up the energy of ghosts or spirits. I woke up in the middle of screaming nightmares. Terrified the other boys, not to mention the staff and the director. Got a reputation for being mentally unstable. The director could have had me committed immediately, but she didn’t. Instead, she called in three different doctors to examine me. The first two said I was a lost cause and that I should be sent to a state asylum.”
“What happened?”
“A third doctor heard about my case and asked the director of the orphanage if he could examine me. She agreed immediately. I figuredthat would not go well, so I was making preparations to run away when Dr. Otto Tinsley showed up.”
“That name sounds familiar.”
Simon realized he was clenching his teeth. He forced himself to relax.
“Not surprising,” he said. “He makes a living giving lectures on the subject of paranormal research. The talks are accompanied by dramatic demonstrations of the Tinsley Paranormal Energy Detector. If you think Madam Guppy is good at marketing, you should meet Tinsley. He knows how to captivate an audience.”
“I have never attended one of his lectures, but I’ve read about him in the press.”
“Tinsley ran me through a lot of tests. When he was finished he assured me there was nothing wrong with me and promised to take me away with him. I was desperate to escape the orphanage. I would have gone with the devil himself. Tinsley conned the director. Told her he was sure he could cure me but that I would have to go with him. Marsden had him sign some papers, and the next thing I knew, Tinsley had adopted me.”
“Did Tinsley treat you well?”
Simon hesitated. He had not seen that question coming.
“Almost like a real son,” he said.
“If he adopted you, then youwerea real son.”
“It wasn’t quite that simple.”
“What happened?”
“For years, things went well. I grew up. We became business partners. Tinsley was—is—obsessed with his paranormal research, but that kind of research requires money. He gets his funds by doing lectures and public demonstrations of his machine. He was barely getting by when we met. But after he put me in the act, the cash started flowing.”
“The act? You mean you helped him give his psychicdemonstrations? That must have been fun for a twelve-year-old kid. Just think, you were onstage doing genuine paranormal demonstrations.”
Her enthusiasm threw him off balance again. It was not the reaction he had expected. Disapproval or laughter, maybe, but not this glowing excitement.
“Fun?” he repeated, trying to regain his balance.
“I’ve met a few Hollywood stars since I moved to Burning Cove, but I’ve never met a real psychic who gave demonstrations in front of audiences.”
“I’m not a real psychic,” he muttered. “Psychics pretend to read minds, talk to the dead, and predict the future. They’re charlatans. I just... sense... certain kinds of emotions, that’s all. I walked away from the Tinsley show about four years ago.”
“How did it work?”
“The show?”
“Yes,” Lyra said. “What was your job?”
