Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958 / 2008-09-10 00:00:00

He claimed,
and I certainly could not refute him, that he saw further into the
violet of the spectrum than the rest of us, and seemed to consider
it nothing unusual when an elderly woman, whose description sounded
much like my great-grand-mother, came and stood behind my chair.
I recall that he said she was stroking my hair, and that following
that I had a distinctly creepy sensation along my scalp.
Then there were those who claimed that in trance the spirit of the
medium, giving place to a control, was free to roam whither it
would, and, although I am not sure of this, that it wandered in the
fourth dimension. While I am very vague about the fourth dimension,
I did know that in it doors and walls were not obstacles. But as
they would not be obstacles to a spirit, even in the world as we
know it, that got me nowhere.
Suppose Sperry came down and said Arthur Wells had been shot above
the ear, and that there was a second bullet hole in the ceiling?
Added to the key on the nail, a careless custom and surely not
common, we would have conclusive proof that our medium had been
correct. There was another point, too. Miss Jeremy had said, "Get
the lather off his face."
That brought me up with a turn. Would a man stop shaving to kill
himself? If he did, why a revolver? Why not the razor in his hand?
I knew from my law experience that suicide is either a desperate
impulse or a cold-blooded and calculated finality.
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