Some Saints Prey (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 4)

by Madison Kent

  "I shall look forward to meeting, Miss Emma. Whatever her faults, it is intriguing that some women are brash enough to do as they please, and being bold enough to do what men have always done," proclaimed Madeline.

  "Perhaps, but it will come to no good end. Mark my words, her deeds will come back to hurt her. One or more of these gentlemen that she is mishandling may retaliate," Emily said emphatically.

  "I agree that men can be unpredictable, especially in the ways of the heart.

  "Now tell me more about what you meant by your sinner and saint comment?" Madeline requested.

  When Emily had initially invited Madeline to St. Augustine, she had told her that it was a city with saints. But that among them may be the sinner who may have something to do with the missing men.

  "Oh―that. It is a fascinating tidbit that we have groups of people who have migrated to our lovely city with the surname Saint, such as the St. Fleurs'. After some of the families moved here, their relatives, as with the way of most immigrants, moved to the same area. So we have the St. Johns', the St. Alders', etc. There are about a dozen families with the last name that begins with Saint. So, Madeline, if you get involved, you may likely find that it is a saint who has committed the crime," she said laughing.

  Madeline also laughed saying, "Yes, that is most unusual. I will have to write my friends about that—the saints of St. Augustine, one or more have lost their halo, and may be involved in a kidnapping."

  Their luncheon had arrived, and afterward, they played cards and discussed the events that had happened at Belle Magnolia. Emily, finding herself there at the summation, was not privy to all that went on. She was shocked at most of what Madeline told her and said she hoped nothing like that would occur in her city.

  The time flew by, and soon they found themselves arriving at the train station, with Madeline getting her first glimpse of St. Augustine.

  Frederick, one of Emily's young servants, was waiting for them when they arrived.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Montgomery, I hope you and Mrs. Donovan had a pleasant journey," he said as he assisted them into the waiting carriage.

  He was pleasant looking, well turned-out in his dashing black uniform with cap, about five-foot- six and lean to the point of looking underfed. A small scar ran through his eyebrow, and one on his chin.

  The Montgomery home was not as grand as Belle Magnolia but was breathtaking for someone from Chicago, who was more familiar with small flats, within tall, brick buildings. The first two floors of the three-story estate consisted of deep redwood walls, surrounded by a four-foot ornate white fence that extended around three sides of the building. At the corners of the building, stood three carved white pillars, their brilliant design caught the eye even from a distance. Palms trees, appearing to be at least twenty, or thirty feet high, surrounded the structure in groups of three and four. The palm fronds softly swaying in the light breeze gave it an added inviting touch.

  "Well, Madeline, what do you think of Montgomery House?" asked Emily.

  "A gem, it sparkles with its beauty. What a delight to see a home like this. In Chicago, the brick buildings look much the same, squeezed together with hardly room for a few trees. I am so pleased to be your guest and be able to avail myself of such splendor for a short time," Madeline replied.

  "My Edgar has told the servants of your visit. He is looking forward to meeting you. He never met a female detective before, and he said he was most interested in hearing some of your stories, especially about your activities in Whitechapel. He has spent time in London for business and quite enjoys any news about the city."

  "And I do enjoy talking about the events that happened there. It changed my perspective of the world. Whitechapel is second to none in encompassing the most bizarre of atmospheres. You feel as if you may have stepped into purgatory when you enter those streets."

  "Was it that terrible?"

  "Oh―yes, most definitely, yes."

  "Reggie, please take our bags in, and show Mrs. Donovan to her room. Tell Mr. Montgomery we have arrived, and we shall take tea in the drawing room," said Emily to a man who looked to be about forty-five years of age. He walked bent over, and with a slight limp, and she thought he may have met with an accident of some sort because otherwise he was attractive and had a good physique. His hair was graying making him look distinguished. He seemed to be around father's height, maybe five-foot-nine. His broad smile and cheerful manner made Madeline like him immediately.

  "After you freshen up, I will send our maid, Charlotte, to bring you to the dining area."

  Reggie carried Madeline's luggage as he escorted her up the stairs to her room.

  "Mrs. Donovan, I hope you will enjoy your stay here. I heard your profession is that of female sleuth. I've never met a detective before. Is it dangerous?" asked Reggie.

  "It can be. I try not to think about it because I might change my mind about doing it."

  "Why do you do it?" he asked, and then looked down, and she thought he might have believed he overstepped his bounds.

  "It's all right. I don't mind your frankness. I hope we will become friends. Circumstances in my life occurred that I now find myself alone. With only myself to take care of, I find the risk worth it if I may help a family discover the truth about a crime.

  "And, I also find it a challenge to see if one can outwit the person trying to get away with his or her crime," she answered.

  "Here we are, Madame. It's one of the finest rooms, with a lovely view, and the sun shines through the windows most of the day. Yes, a lovely room."

  "Thank you, Reggie. I hope we will talk again soon. Do you also drive the carriage? I'm sure I will be going into town."

  "No, that's Mr. Frederick, who does the driving. If he's ill or sent away on an errand, then I will assist."

  "I see. Well, thank you."

  Her room was spacious, and sunny, decorated in bisque and lavender colors, with painted roses for accents on each wall, and she immediately felt at home.

  She was familiar with Chicago's rustic colors, but now, she wondered if she would miss the pleasing, soft-hued colors of the South. They gave one a feeling of joy and lifted one's spirits.

  She barely finished freshening up and changing clothes, when Charlotte knocked on her door.

  "I'll take you to the dining room, Miss, if you are ready?" asked Charlotte.

  "Thank you. What a wonderful place you work in!"

  "It is, and Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery are as good as they come. I don't think they could be any kinder to the other staff and me," proclaimed Charlotte.

  "High praise, indeed. I am sure I will enjoy my stay here."

  Charlotte looked to be about twenty, with beautiful fair skin, light blonde hair, and a slender body. Seeming a little nervous, Madeline wondered if she was new to the profession.

  Charlotte escorted her to the dining area, where the Montgomery's sat.

  "Welcome, my dear," said Mr. Montgomery, as he stood to greet her. "I hope you will enjoy your stay here. I know I will enjoy hearing about your recent adventures. Voodoo, my word that is something I must know about."

  Edgar was referring to her recent time spent in New Orleans, that included investigating Madame Clarice, a voodoo priestess, and her followers.

  The eccentric-looking, elderly man possessed a prominent, handle-bar mustache, with Benjamin Franklin-type rounded gold spectacles. There were brass buttons on his vest, and he wore a flamboyant ascot tie. He bulged a little in his midriff, and his cheeks were puffy with a slight double-chin. He personified photographs of Southern gentlemen she had seen in books. His broad smile took you in and made one feel like a part of the family.

  Delicious smoked pork, potatoes, and other hearty foods were on the menu. After the completion of the meal, Edgar said, " Now I have some news for both of you. I'm sure my wife has told you of our little intrigue we have right now in our fair city. As you are a detective, I know you must be interested."

  Madeline nodded, "yes", and he went o
n.

  "But first, let us adjourn to the drawing room," he continued.

  A fireplace with carved ivory leaves embellishing it was the focal point of the room. Embroidered accent rugs and delicately featured statues of nymphs were present.

  Mr. Montgomery continued, "It's rather shocking, but one of the men, well, barely a man, just twenty and one years of age has been found in the river. The papers say it appears to be accidental. Of course, it's accidental. I mean, what else could it be―homicide―in our backyard, that would be shocking."

  Emily asked, " Oh, Edgar, how dreadful! Which one of the men was it?"

  "Clifford St―, oh, I can't remember whether it's Alder or Adler. We have one too many saints in this town. I suppose my wife has told you about that, also."

  Emily interrupted before Madeline could speak, "Yes, I have dear, and it's Alder, Clifford St. Alder. Clifford was Emma's escort at several of our dinner parties, but then, the other one has also been a guest here."

  "Who was that dear?" asked Edgar.

  "Lonnie Armstrong," Emily answered.

  Madeline said, "You certainly do have quite the mystery of your own. Now that one of the two is deceased, I would imagine the police will act quickly. I'm sure they will think that an unusual circumstance as this doesn't occur without some evidence of foul play. When several girls went missing in my neighborhood in Chicago, it did not have a good outcome."

  "It is depressing to speak of it, but we have other things to discuss.

  "I've already told Mrs. Blake, our cook, to prepare for a party. I will send out the invitations by messenger tomorrow―it will be my task for tonight to complete my list, and my menu," said Emily.

  "What is this, dear?" Edgar asked.

  "I've promised Madeline a proper introduction to our community, so I am planning a dinner party. We hope it will be a gay time, and no one will brood over the poor boy, Clifford.

  "But tomorrow we shall go to town for luncheon, and see what we can discover. I'm sure there will be no lack of gossip, and Madeline will get her foot in the door of this mystery," replied Emily.

  Chapter Two

  The Dinner

  Emily inquired, "What do you think, Madeline, isn't it fine? I'm so proud that it came to be in our hometown."

  She was referring to the Cordova Hotel where they were enjoying lunch.

  "It resembles a castle more than a hotel. I've never seen anything like it, not even in London."

  "Henry Flagler, the infamous entrepreneur, is the owner―people say everything he puts his mark on, is innovative and near a work of art. He hired a young architect to build something spectacular, and surely, it is that. Soon after its completion, Mr. Flagler, purchased it, and now it is a site visited by nobility from Europe and―anyone who is anyone―comes to see it. That is why I brought you here. My friends, Cecile, and Lillian should be joining us shortly."

  Madeline smiled to herself. Emily wanted to be seen in the right places, and with the right people. Once, that was important to her, but since she became a widow, those feelings ceased to exist. Although the Cordova was exquisite, she believed she would find Emily's friends the more exciting of the two. She was anxious to hear any news about the St. Alder boy.

  Two women entered the dining area, elaborately overdressed, with ostentatious jewelry adorning them. They were escorted to their table by the maître d', where Emily made the introductions.

  Cecile, the taller of the two, with radiant white hair, said, "So, Madeline, Emily has told us a little about your exploits. You must tell us about your trip to London. How exciting! Lillian and I consider ourselves to be quite observant, and knowledgeable about the affairs of the neighborhood. She said you were eager to hear about our, Miss Emma."

  Madeline sat up and leaned in toward her saying, "I am. It is a tragedy about the St. Alder boy. Do you think it may have anything to do with his relationship with Emma?"

  Lillian, with black hair, streaked with some white, full-figured and quite short, perhaps only five foot tall, said in a piercingly high voice, "But the papers say the boy drowned. You don't honestly think it could be anything else, not in St. Augustine. Why, the most scandalous thing that has happened here in a long while, is that Mr. Fairchild left to Europe with one of his servants. It was unheard of, but this, this cannot be."

  Madeline said, "Miss Emily has told me a little something about Emma. It seems she has created considerable strife amongst her suitors. With one deceased and another missing, I would think the police investigation would begin at Emma's doorstep."

  "We'll see. If Emma and her family, accept my invitation to Madeline's dinner party―it should prove to be a rather stimulating evening. The St. Fleur's just naturally become the focal point of any party," said Emily.

  After an enjoyable meal, the four ladies strolled down the avenue―Madeline relishing in the sights of beautiful St. Augustine.

  It was unlike Chicago or New Orleans. It did not have the diversity of culture nor the density of structures. Cigar and fabric stores, a library, and a gift shop or two dotted the landscape, unlike the grand structures in Chicago. It also did not have the eclectic atmosphere of New Orleans, where one could find almost any ethnicity or language spoken. However, it had a serene beauty, women walking down the streets with ornate parasols, taking their children for walks, was a portrait of Americana.

  Near the harbor, people gathered by the fishing boats to visit and conduct the trading of goods. The balmy, near-perfect weather, contributed to one feeling lazy and wishing to waste the day away in leisure, conversing and drinking lemonade.

  Madeline could certainly see why the idea of murder, in this peaceful environment, was distressing.

  After their day out, Madeline spent the evening reading and writing to her friends, Jonathan, and Hugh. She had composed a quick note, informing them of her arrival, but now she would write concerning the missing men.

  August 26, 1889

  Dear Jonathan,

  After spending just a short time in St. Augustine, I get the sense there is something brewing here that has the local people in a stir. I don't know what it might be, but there is something unusual about this city.

  There is a young lady, Miss Emma St. Fleur, who has garnered herself a reputation for being daring, and controversial in her relationships with men. It seems she encourages them to compete for her affections. Two of these suitors went missing, with one recently discovered drowned. It is certainly a curious situation and one that I hope I may find myself employed to investigate.

  My host, Miss Emily, who you met at Belle Magnolia, will be holding a dinner party this Saturday, to introduce me to her friends. I am looking forward to it, and hearing what the local people have to say about Miss Emma. We are hoping, Miss Emma herself will grace us with her presence.

  If there is any possibility you might come for a visit for a few days, it would be wonderful to have you here to muse with over these events.

  Please respond.

  Your friend,

  Madeline

  She wrote her friend Hugh a similar note:

  August 26, 1889

  Dear Hugh,

  I am in the midst of another mystery, which I find enticing. However, since I have had the pleasure of your and Jonathan's company while confronting these situations beforehand, I find I am at a loss without being able to consult with you both.

  I know you have just returned to attend to the overseeing of the building of your home, but if you could come for a visit, it would be most welcome.

  She described her impression of St. Augustine, and what she had learned thus far. Although unlikely, she hoped one―or both―might respond to her request.

  Madeline had spent the last few days taking long walks about the property, riding one of the horses named Sapphire, and getting acquainted with the staff.

  When Saturday arrived, the estate was in a flurry of activity, nearly all of the people they had invited would be attending, including the infamous, Miss Emma. Madelin
e met the day with great anticipation of meeting this provocative young lady. There was additional news regarding the St. Alder boy; the police were now questioning if it might be a possible homicide. However, the news only received a paragraph, or so, of detail on the inside pages of the local paper, and Madeline felt surprised that the authorities gave so little attention to the matter.

  By dusk, all was in readiness for the dinner. Fragrant flowers, in decorated vases, were strategically placed about the rooms, so that when the breeze blew in, one felt they were in a perfumed garden. Chandeliers emitted ambient light, and three skillful men were softly playing the violin.

  "Madeline, there you are. How lovely you look. That shade of autumn green brings out the color of your eyes. I hope tonight will prove a success. You shall have a proper look at us, and, of course, they will set their sights on discovering all your intimate secrets. Be aware, they shall try to test you," said Emily.

  She laughed, and replied, "I am not an ingénue any longer and am up to the task. I could not pursue being a female sleuth if I didn't have some ability not to reveal my hand."

  Cecile, Lillian, and their husbands were among the first to arrive. But soon, the room was filled with chatter, and fans fluttered in the hands of elegantly dressed Southern women. Madeline had never experienced anything quite like this. She had been to social gatherings all her life in Chicago, but none compared to this display of wealth and propriety.

  Emily motioned for her to follow and said, "Madeline, may I introduce you to the Margaret and Charles St. Simmion, and Minnie and Percy Cooper."

  And so this went on, as she made her way around the room. She was certain she would be hard pressed to remember their names in the morning, unless, of course, one of them should say something noteworthy about the missing young men.