A Riddle in Bronze

and I'd like to be off the streets before evening. Tinkering with the spirit world as I do, I sometimes feel they might single me out for special attention, and I have no wish to be cornered in a darkened alleyway by a vengeful phantom."
I too wished to be home by evening, for I had not forgotten the note in my pocket inviting me to the Crown and Feather for a clandestine meeting.

Chapter 10
I thought we would be setting up the equipment in the sitting room, but Roberta shouldered her haversack and led me into the hall. Here, we encountered our host coming downstairs with a maid. Lady Snetton had donned a fancy hat and coat, and the maid was carrying her bag.
"Lady Snetton," said Roberta. "Would it be possible to perform our work upstairs, in the main bedroom?"
"Is that really necessary?"
"In my experience, yes. Sleeping areas are usually a focal point for—"
"I understand, and I give my permission," said Lady Snetton quickly. She gestured at the maid. "Run and find Annie, and tell her to show our guests to my bedroom."
"Yes ma'am."
The maid hurried off, and there was an awkward silence as we waited in the hall with Lady Snetton. Finally, both maids returned, and Annie promptly led us upstairs to the sleeping quarters while Lady Snetton's personal maid accompanied her to the front door. As we reached the landing I glanced back down the stairs, and I saw Lady Snetton at the far end of the hall, looking anxiously up at me. She gave me a small, hopeful smile just before the door closed, hiding her from view. With that look she'd bared her soul to me, revealing a scared, vulnerable young woman, and I resolved to do everything in my power to rid this house of the malevolent spirit. This, even though I was feeling somewhat vulnerable and scared myself, loath though I was to admit it.
We reached the upper floor, where Annie showed us into a sumptuous room with a four-poster bed, expensive furnishings and a large bay window that looked out on the smoky haze blanketing the city. A tree in the road outside stuck its twisted branches into the sky, with its sparse spring growth struggling for life in the heavy, polluted air, and I saw a mangy-looking dog darting through the foot traffic, bound for who-knew-where. Below, Lady Snetton's carriage was drawing away from the house, pulled by two magnificent horses. The driver flicked his reins, and the carriage vanished down the road, lost in the thronging crowds and the late-afternoon gloom.
"Mr Jones, would you assist me please?"
I turned to see Roberta near the bedroom door, which she'd just closed. The maid had already left, and the two of us could now speak freely. "What caused the painting to fall?" I asked her.
"Some spirits have influence in the physical world, although it's rare."
I recalled the shattered equipment from her previous cleansing, and also the ill-effects that phantasm had inflicted on the professor. "Is this one of the… stronger kind?" I asked nervously.
"Fear not, Mr Jones. Together, we will cope."
I admired her confidence, even though my own was sorely lacking. There was little time to dwell on the dangers though, because Roberta had me unpacking the equipment and setting it up in every nook and cranny of the room. I placed the metal discs where she directed, this batch once again marked with fine tracings. "What is the purpose of these designs?" I asked, as I laid a disc on the windowsill. No sooner had I let go than it gleamed briefly in the light, the pattern seeming to pulse with energy.
Roberta hesitated, and I guessed she was debating how much information to share with me. "As I already explained, we infuse the metal with traces of the spirits we capture. There are many different kinds, and when we blend them it leaves a distinctive pattern."
I finished placing the discs and took up a tripod, setting it up where she indicated. "What kinds of spirits are there?" I asked, as I adjusted the legs and tightened the brass thumbscrews to hold them in place.
"We have catalogued more than a dozen to date. Some are lost souls, unable to find their way to the next world. Others are vengeful spirits out to cause harm to those who wronged them." Roberta indicated the bedroom with a sweeping gesture. "And some are jealous of a rival."
I half-expected another painting to topple from the wall, but the room was still. "And the one which… attacked the professor?"
Roberta's face darkened. "That was a being the likes of which we've never encountered. It had enough power to shatter the trap, and my father happened to be holding the device at the time. It flowed up his arm and entered his very being."
I swallowed. "That's… that's not likely to happen here, is it?" I lamented the stammer in my voice, for I knew I sounded like a nervous child. But surely I had an excuse!
"Oh no," said Roberta calmly. "This may be far worse." Then, noting my expression, she gave a peal of laughter. "Oh Mr Jones, if you could only see your face."
"I don't see anything remotely amusing in this situation," I snapped, irritated by her casual attitude towards a very real danger. "You hired me to look after your accounts, and traipsing around the city after perilous ghosts was not included in my duties!"
She was immediately contrite, and she left the device she'd been setting to come over and comfort me. "Septimus, I'm sorry," she said, her tone genuinely apologetic. "Sometimes my sense of humour—"
"I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually," I said stiffly. Then, seeing she'd just laid her hand on my sleeve, I managed a smile. "Assuming I live that long, of course."
"That's the spirit!"
"Where? Where?" I demanded, looking around in panic.
"No, I meant… I was just…" Roberta took one look at me and doubled up, this time fairly cackling with laughter.