by Amanda Allen
“If you don’t have to work too late, maybe you’d care to have dinner at my house tomorrow?” she said, trying to sound casual, offhanded. How did a girl do that? She had known Pete since childhood and never had to learn any sort of dating games with him. She felt terribly silly and unmodern now. “You can tell Mrs. Anaya more about what you’ve found.”
He smiled, and suddenly she didn’t feel quite so silly or unsure anymore. “Thank you. I’d like that. Maybe I could also be privileged to get a little glimpse of your work too? As a man who can’t draw a stick figure himself, I’m always in awe of artists.”
Maddie smiled back at him, trying not to blush like a schoolgirl. “I think that could be arranged.”
* * *
Maddie left David at the gates to the hospital garden. He turned to wave at her from the steps, and she waved back, afraid she was grinning like a fool. Despite everything that was happening, she had to admit she did rather enjoy the doctor’s company, his intelligent conversation. The way his hand felt when he took her arm. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
She turned to head home and heard the bells of the cathedral toll the hour, as they had when she’d first arrived to meet David that morning. She glanced up at the bell towers, half-shadowed now, and she remembered that Juanita had said Father Malone there was helping her with the girls and the school. She wondered if he knew about Tomas too, even though Eddie had said his father wasn’t one for church. On impulse, she hurried up the wide stone steps and through the heavy bronze front doors.
Inside, all was a cool, calm hush. It was a pretty church, all soaring, airy vaulted ceilings and gilded pillars just like the cathedrals she had seen as a girl in France. The inlaid mosaics of angels and the rich glow of the stained glass windows made her think of Pete and how he would talk about the beautiful places they would see after the war: Westminster Abbey, Notre Dame, St. Mark’s.
A woman in a calico apron was scrubbing at the black-and-white marble floor of the foyer and told her Father Malone was near the altar. “Cleaning out the candle holders,” she grumbled. “Even though it’s not his job.”
Maddie thanked her and made her way down the aisle, past the marble baptismal font. It was mostly deserted at that hour, with only a few people at silent prayer in the pews. The cool air was scented with lemon polish and candle smoke, and her shoe heels clicked on the stone floor. She could see why Juanita liked to take refuge here.
She found a stout figure in a black cassock at the foot of the altar screen, scrubbing out the wrought-iron candlestand just as the cleaning lady said. Maddie wondered what the archbishop, who was rumored to be rather grand, thought of that. The priest peered up at her through thick spectacles, a friendly smile on his round lined face.
“Father Malone?” Maddie said.
“Yes, that’s me. How can I help you, young lady?”
“My name is Madeline Alwin. My housekeeper, Juanita Anaya, says you’re her friend.”
“Oh, yes, the good Mrs. Anaya! I just heard about Eduardo today. Tell her I will call on her this evening and go with her to the jail if she likes. She must be so worried.”
“Yes, indeed. We all are.”
“Of course. The lad can’t have done such a thing, I’m sure of it.”
“That’s what I think too,” Maddie said, feeling a rather friendly glow toward the man. “I’m trying to help her however I can. Juanita and her girls—well, they’re like my family in a way.”
“And how can I help you then, Mrs. Alwin?”
Maddie glanced up at the altar, painted with bright scenes of saints and angels, glowing with giltwork from the windows above. “I know that you must see so many people here in town. Juanita has seemed worried about something lately, something to do with her husband. I just thought . . .” Her words faded away. She wasn’t sure what she thought, really. Only that she was worried about Juanita and so was Father Malone.
“Are you a churchgoer, Mrs. Alwin?” he asked.
“I sometimes go to Holy Faith, up the street. Though not as often as my mother back at St. Thomas on Fifth Avenue would like.”
He smiled. “Ah, a fellow Easterner! I’m from Boston myself, though that was a long time ago. As an Anglican, I’m sure you know the seal of the confessional.”
“I do, and I wouldn’t want you to tell me anything Juanita told you in confidence,” Maddie said quickly. She wanted Juanita to tell her such things on her own. “But if you know of any general concerns . . .”
He gestured for her to sit down with him on the front pew. “It’s true there is something that has been worrying her and is a general concern to myself and also the archbishop.”
“Really?” Maddie asked, intrigued. “What is that, Father?”
He looked at the altar, the angels reflected in his spectacles. “I’ve been out here a long time, since I was a young man in the missions. A lot here has changed in the last few years, but some things have stayed the same.” He gave her a sharp glance. “What brought you to New Mexico, Mrs. Alwin?”
“My husband died in the war, and I was a bit lost for a while. I was on a cross-country trip with my cousin, who wanted to see the film stars in California. There was just something in the air here, the light, that—it comforted me, I suppose.”
Father Malone nodded. “A spiritual feeling. It’s everywhere here. This land is a great gift from God. But sometimes it can also be, shall we say, misleading.”
Maddie was puzzled. “What do you mean? Is Mrs. Anaya . . . ?”
“No, not her. But she feared her husband was involved in something quite odd.” He studied Maddie closely for a moment, and she tried not to fidget, as she had at St. Thomas as a child. “You’re a war widow, Mrs. Alwin. You know that a certain sort of person, mediums, have been growing in popularity.”
“Yes, I did see such places in New York. Séances, card readings, things like that.”
“Have you been to a séance?”
Maddie shook her head. “I think if my husband wants to talk to me, he will. I don’t need to pay someone to reach him.”
“Quite right.”
“But I don’t think I’ve seen such things here.”
“A woman has set herself up in a small shop over Kaune’s Grocery on the plaza. A Madame Genet. Mrs. Anaya feared her husband was going to see her.”
“I wouldn’t have thought he was the type. Juanita said he was not a churchy person.” Or maybe Father Malone meant “seeing” her in a romantic way? Was Madame Genet one of the women Tomas was splashing out on, like the Mavis who Rob Bennett had mentioned?
Father Malone nodded. “When it comes to a person’s deepest beliefs, deepest fears, you never know, Mrs. Alwin. This has long been a superstitious place in some ways.”
“And Juanita was concerned about this Madame Genet person?”
“She did think her husband was keeping many secrets from her. She’s a lady of much faith of her own, and it worried her he might be led astray. And—may I be honest, Mrs. Alwin?”
“Of course.”
“There are rumors that this Madame Genet is some sort of front for criminal activity. No one knows much about her. But the archbishop certainly doesn’t like the fact that she might be using people’s grief to lead them astray.”
“You mean she might be bootlegging as well as holding séances?”
Father Malone shrugged. “She appeared so suddenly, and no one knows much about her at all. And odd things have been happening lately. A shipment of sacramental wine from California was stolen before it reached us. This town has never been a haven of law and order, but usually church matters are left alone. And it’s rather quiet here at most times.”
Maddie nodded, thinking of Rob Bennett and his swanky club. Had one of the well-dressed women there been Madame Genet? “Thank you, Father Malone. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” She rose and straightened her hat.
He stood up next to her and walked with her toward the doors. “Tell Mrs. Anaya I will call on
her this evening after Mass.”
“I will. She tells me you’re helping her find places for the girls at the school?”
He chuckled. “They are certainly clever girls, aren’t they? Very . . . spirited.”
Maddie laughed. “They are that.”
He pushed open the heavy door to let in a dazzle of sunlight and bright-blue sky. “Let me know if I can be of any more help at all, Mrs. Alwin. Mrs. Anaya is a good lady. I will pray for her.”
“Thank you, Father Malone.” Maddie suddenly remembered what Rob Bennett had said about Tomas’s fancy woman, the lady of the evening named Mavis. She glanced back uncertainly at Father Malone. Priests did seem to know everything that happened in their parishes. But how did a person delicately ask a man of the cloth such a thing?
“I—you wouldn’t happen to have heard if Mr. Anaya had—er, other kinds of friends,” she said, feeling terribly clumsy.
He gave her an understanding smile. “I’m afraid not. Mrs. Anaya has concerns, of course, but I don’t know of anything in particular. Is there someone you’re concerned about then?”
“I’m not sure,” Maddie murmured. She would have to keep looking. “Thanks again, Father. I hope I’ll see you soon.”
“I’m sure you will, Mrs. Alwin.”
* * *
When Maddie got home, she found Juanita cooking dinner in the kitchen and the girls playing with Buttercup on the tile floor. The scents of baking bread and stewing green chili were rich in the air.
Maddie took off her hat and gloves. “I hope there’s more you can add to that delicious stew for tomorrow, Juanita.”
Juanita looked up, a tiny gleam peeking through the haze of her distraction. “A gentleman caller, Señora Maddie?” She had often hinted to Maddie that a young woman should have love and children. Juanita seemed so romantic for someone whose own marriage had become such a worry.
“In a way, I suppose,” Maddie said. She did rather like the doctor, but it wouldn’t do to get Juanita’s hopes up. Or her own. “It’s Dr. Cole. As you know, he’s helping us with—things. At the hospital.”
Maddie glanced at the girls, who were listening avidly. Juanita frowned and said, “Girls, why don’t you go outside and gather a bouquet for the table?”
As Pearl and Ruby dashed outside, the dog barking at their heels, Maddie sat down at the table and reached for some potatoes that needed peeling. She noticed that the box of Tomas’s belongings was gone. “Dr. Cole worked as a medic in the war, and as promised, he took a look at Tomas for us since the coroner is gone.”
Juanita wiped her hands on a dish towel, her expression wary. “Tell me.”
“He thinks Tomas might have been poisoned before he died. He’s doing some tests and will tell us for sure when he knows more. Arsenic, perhaps—maybe rat poison or something like that. It would have made any bleeding more quickly fatal, it seems.”
“He can’t think I would do something like that,” Juanita said, a sob in her voice.
“I’m sure no one thinks that,” Maddie assured her. “But can you think of anyone who . . . ?”
Juanita shook her head, her usual calm slipping into agitation. “I told you, Señora Maddie, Tomas has been mostly away from home lately.”
Away with other women? Running gin and cocaine? “I noticed some bottles in that box of Tomas’s things. Is it some kind of medicine he took? Something someone could have slipped to him?”
Juanita frowned in thought. “Just some aftershave, I think. And some hair pomade, and—no, wait. There was something. I didn’t look too closely, but you know his things have to be gathered up to be buried with him.”
She hurried out of the room and came back with the box. Maddie helped her sort through the shirts and handkerchiefs. They found the aforementioned bottle of aftershave and a jar of pomade. They both just smelled of lemons, but Maddie put them aside to be tested anyway.
At the bottom of the box was that strange bottle she’d noticed before. It had sloped sides and a darkened cork and was half-full of some kind of amber liquid. Maddie cautiously sniffed at it, but she could smell nothing.
“Do you know what this is?” she asked.
Juanita shook her head. “It was in his bureau drawer with the other things. I haven’t seen it before. He never used to be so concerned with his appearance, not until . . .”
Until there were other women? Maddie held the bottle up to the light. It looked dark, thick, almost syrupy. “I think we should show it to the doctor.”
“I suppose so. Is it some kind of drink? That’s what I thought, so I didn’t look at it very closely.”
“If it is, it’s not like any hooch I know.” Maddie thought of the gassed soldiers and shivered. She carefully wrapped up the bottle and tucked it away to give to David later. She had a lot to think over. “I think I’ll do a bit of painting before dinner.”
Juanita nodded. She looked deep in thought, but she just turned back to the stove in silence. Maddie went out to the garden. The girls were chasing each other along the gravel pathways, Buttercup barking at them. It was such a beautiful scene, the exuberant girls in the sunlight, the bright flowers, that it made her feel quite sad.
In the studio, she took off her fine suit jacket and put on an apron. She tried to sketch, but her thoughts wouldn’t let her focus on her work for once. She thought instead of what she had learned in the morgue, at the hotel, and from the priest. It left her more confused than ever.
A knock at the studio door gave her a welcome distraction. She hurried over to find Gunther standing there, bouncing on the toes of his polished two-tone shoes.
“Maddie, my dear,” he cried. “I think I have found that fancy lady Mavis that Mr. Bennett told you Tomas was going around with. There’s also a dance at the Golden Rooster Club in a few nights, if you’re brave enough to come with me. Someone there might be able to tell you more, as well. All of us miscreants do have to stick together.”
Maddie had to laugh ruefully. “Of course you heard something. You know everyone. Come inside and tell me all.”
“This is all better than a G. K. Chesterton novel, darling,” he said. “I do like something to distract me from my own work.”
“It is just like Chesterton,” she answered. “Wait until you hear! There’s even a priest . . .”
CHAPTER 13
Dinner that night at Maddie’s house turned out to be a crowded one and, for an hour or two, a very welcome distraction from worries, puzzles, and grief. With Father Malone, Dr. Cole, and Gunther all coming as guests, Pearl and Ruby insisted on setting the dining room table with Maddie’s grandmother’s rarely used Meissen china set and gathering a bouquet from the garden. Buttercup twirled and barked at their heels, their excitement infectious.
“But Señora Maddie,” Juanita protested as she stood with Maddie in the dining room doorway, surveying the carved antique table and high-backed chairs with their bright woven cushions. “There’s no time to make a fine meal! I only have the lamb stew on the stove and a few early asparagus from the garden. I suppose there’s some leftover cake for a trifle . . .”
“Juanita, it will be quite delicious,” Maddie answered as she swept back the satin-lined curtains to let the light in. “It always is. And it’s only a small party. I’ll call Kaune’s for a delivery of some of their cold salads. It’s always fun to have a choice, and the dairy will have cream for the trifle.”
“Small, yes, but Father Malone will be here! And a doctor.” Juanita’s eyes narrowed. “A handsome doctor, I think?”
Maddie bit her lip and pretended to be very busy rearranging the pottery ornaments on the sideboard. “He’s not bad-looking. And he’s certainly very clever. He’ll have a lot to tell us tonight.”
Juanita nodded, a sad, faraway look in her eyes. “Everyone has been kind, Señora Maddie. It does give me hope.”
Maddie swallowed hard. She too had once needed hope and good friends after her husband died and she felt so alone. “I’ll just go see how the girls
are getting along.”
As she hurried outside, Juanita called, “Don’t wear black again, Señora Maddie! Bright colors look so much prettier on you. If this doctor is so handsome and smart . . .”
Maddie laughed. “You and Gunther and all your fashion advice!”
But she did leave the old black satin in the wardrobe and chose a pale-lilac chiffon tea gown and a silver-embroidered Spanish shawl. A bit of color didn’t hurt, after all.
It turned out Juanita had more than enough food for a most splendid dinner: the lamb stew with asparagus and new potatoes, macaroni and shrimp salads, fresh greens in olive oil, and the trifle with berry jam and ice cream. Everyone chatted and laughed around the table as they passed the pretty china plates, Father Malone telling them about the trouble he had gotten into during his Boston youth, Gunther sighing over his publishing woes.
“And what about you, Dr. Cole?” Father Malone asked as Juanita passed him another portion of trifle. “What part of England do you hail from? I only visited once, a trip to Canterbury and the ‘troublesome’ Becket’s tomb, but I thought it was very beautiful.”
Dr. Cole smiled, and Maddie thought it looked a bit wistful. Homesickness, maybe? A life left so far behind? Maybe it reminded him of his wife. “It’s a beautiful place, true, Father. I come from Brighton, near the sea. My own father was a doctor there, as was his, and my mother was the daughter of an apothecary. My parents had known each other since childhood, and I was their only child. But I had plenty of cousins to run with on the beach and eat too much rock candy with on the pier until we were ill with it. My grandfather even remembered when the old prince regent would come there to treat his gout. Granddad was sure that not eating twenty courses at supper might have helped old George more than the sea bathing did!”
Everyone laughed, and the twins demanded more stories about eccentric English kings and queens to add to their fairy-tale repertoire, insisting they would use them in their new doll theatricals and that Dr. Cole had to come be the audience one day soon. David promised he would, and Maddie found herself hoping he would return, once happier times had come to her house and the girls could just be little girls again. When their brother would be home. If that day ever came, as she was determined it would.