“I know Jake must have paid the man for doing this tonight, but there can’t be a lot of opportunities for pretending to be killed by a wagon, so how do they make money doing it?” Mother Bates asked.

Elizabeth didn’t so much as glance at Gideon, who was probably trying very hard not to groan in dismay at his mother asking about the way con artists made money. “From what I understand, the victim doesn’t usually die, because that would ruin the whole thing. He pretends to be injured and the driver—he usually does this with a motorcar and pretends to be hit—is anxious to forget the whole thing, so he gives the victim whatever money he has in his wallet to pay for medical treatment.”

“But in this case, his partner was driving the wagon instead of witnessing the accident and insisting the driver do the right thing and give the poor victim some money,” Gideon added.

“But how on earth do they keep the poor fellow from really getting trampled?” Mother Bates asked.

“In this case it was easy, because no one actually witnessed the accident,” Elizabeth said.

“Except Jake,” Gideon reminded her.

“Yes,” she agreed with a grin, “Jake, whose legendary honesty bore witness to how awful it was. So all the victim had to do was lie down on the street, bite his cackle bladder to get the blood flowing and scream his head off.”

“He was quite convincing,” Gideon said. “It gave me chills just to hear him.”

“I assume he’s had a lot of practice,” Elizabeth said.

“Elizabeth, I will never forgive you for not allowing me to attend tonight,” Mother Bates said with mock fury.

“It was the work of a moment,” Elizabeth said. “The rest of the evening was deadly dull, I assure you.”

“Except for Elizabeth screaming. You did a remarkable job of foreshadowing the poor man’s agony, darling,” Gideon said.

“Thank you. I’ve had a lot of practice myself.”

“Practice with screaming in agony?” Mother Bates marveled.

“Oh yes. I had a brother, you see. I could get him in all kinds of trouble if he hurt me.”

“Poor Jake,” Gideon said, shaking his head.

“He deserved every bit of it,” Elizabeth insisted.

“He probably did.”

“What comes next?” Mother Bates asked with renewed interest.

“That depends on Madame Ophelia and her associates,” Elizabeth said. “Jake has already been approached, but I don’t know about Cybil. I assume it won’t be long.”

“I can hardly wait to see what kind of charity they suggest for Cybil.”

Gideon grinned. “Perhaps they’ll suggest rehabilitating people who are injured in motorcar accidents.”

—

I still don’t see why I can’t go to the séances with you,” Zelda said the next morning over breakfast.