A Tremble in the Air — James D. Macdonald

A classic country-house detective story with an occult twist. Family secrets aren't the only things buried in this drawing-room mystery. Orville Nesbit, psychic researcher, has to dig them up.

About 6,500 words.

This short story, by the award-winning and best-selling author James D. Macdonald, originally appeared in Murder by Magic, edited by Rosemary Edghill, Warner Books, 2004.

Orville Nesbit also features in the short story, "Ecdysis."

Praise for Murder by Magic: "The standout, James D. Macdonald's 'A Tremble in the Air,' introduces a psychic detective, Orville Nesbit, who's clearly heir to the tradition of such sleuths as Algernon Blackwood's John Silence and who deserves to live on in further tales."
-- Publishers Weekly

All Madhouse Manor e-books are DRM-free.

This story is included in the collection "Ghosts and Legends"

Excerpt:

Mrs. Roger Collins stood in the visiting room of her home. "Mansion" would have been a better word. The sun shone in through a bay window flanked by French doors. Filmy drapes kept the sun from bleaching the delicate cloth on the circular table in the center of the room. Spiced air from the gardens gently wafted in.

Mrs. Collins was expecting her friend Mrs. Frederick Baxter. She had something she wanted to talk to Shirley about. Last night the strangest thing happened. Mary Collins had know for years that the house was haunted, because there was a window on the second floor that would not stay closed if it wasn't locked. But last night, in the misty dark of twilight, while entering the upstairs guest bedroom, she saw the translucent shape of a young lady, and the apparition looked at her and she felt --

"Mary, dear!"

It was Shirley, being shown in by Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins had retired at the end of the Great War, and he had been very helpful during his wife's recent illness.
Mary had the tea things ready, and the tea itself, a nice oolong with a great deal of milk and sugar, occupied their time along with the small talk of doings in the town. Mr. Collins removed himself to his study. He had always played the stock market, and played it well. The War had left him wealthy, still quite young, for munitions had been greatly in demand. The prosperity that the whole nation now experienced made his investments more valuable by the day, while the contacts that he had across the nation gave him insights that perhaps other men didn't have.

Now was the time for Mary to tell the story, for that delightful frisson, in the bright afternoon.