"I suppose you want me to do your room once you go out, sir?"
"No. I'm not going out today. I have a very delicate experiment to conduct upstairs. If I do go out," he said, pausing before looking at her rather pointedly, "I will wait until later this evening." Their eyes locked, neither looking away, until Mr. Lockhart chiseled a smile on his face and added rather cheerily, "Feel free to do my room when I go upstairs for the experiment. Let's say, five o'clock? Will that work for you, Velma?"
"Yes, sir. That will be just fine."
Velma went downstairs, feeling Lockhart's eyes on her as she left the room, wondering what went on in his sharp yet odd mind. She berated herself internally for the nervousness she now felt. She possibly needed to make a trip to the pharmacy and secure something for her nerves. Just then, a loud knock at the front door startled her, only emphasizing the on-edge feelings she carried.
It was the postman. He had slid a small envelope through the mail slot and done his customary knock, although it had been a while since they'd received any personal mail. The last mail delivery had been Mr. Lockhart's clothes delivery.
Velma saw that it was a letter addressed to Lamont, from Dalia. "Lamont!" Velma shouted down the hall, for he had gone down into the cellar to check for kerosene. "There's a letter for you from Dalia!"
She heard Lamont bound up the steps and saw him emerge, eagerly wiping his hands on the worker's bib he had put on to avoid dirtying his clothes.
Velma sighed. What had happened to the man she married, the man she had eagerly loved in the beginning? What had happened to her? Was the fact her body had managed to keep its looks betrayed her into thinking that she hadn't changed all that much, when really she had? Had she and Lamont grown apart to the point that they were more housemates than husband and wife?
Lamont still held a reasonable grip on his work ethic from his younger days, but he was so damned inconsistent. One day, a hard worker, the very next, a complete sloth, sitting in his chair, devouring only the newspaper for its horrific details about the Hangman and his victims.
As she watched him walk toward her for the letter, she saw a look in his face that reminded her of what he was like when they first met. She remembered their first meeting, seeing that handsome, respectable butler who handled everything with ease and was admired and respected by employee and employer alike. She felt a lump in her throat and a desire to cry. She handed him the letter and his attention was so focused on it, he didn't notice her walk away and dab at the corner of her eyes.
She returned to the kitchen, for there were all manner of things to put up or clean, as well as dinner to prepare... it dawned on her that tonight was the night Lamont was supposed to take her out...
"Velma!" Lamont said, storming into the kitchen. "Dalia's coming to visit tomorrow! Her grandmother is sending her away because there was a storm that damaged the house and the repairs will take several days. She'll be here for her birthday. Her eighteenth birthday! Oh, it makes me feel old."
It complicated things, having the girl here, Velma thought. She and Delia were civil to one another, but Velma suspected the girl disliked her because she had in some way replaced her deceased mother. And the truth was, she had. Velma suspected that Delia shared the same resentment Lamont's ex-mother-in-law felt for him and his replacement wife as she had once written in a letter to Lamont, one he had thrown in the trash and she retrieved after she saw it made him angry.
"Is this going to be a problem for you?" Lamont asked cautiously.
"Of course not. She's your daughter. We'll need to get a cake and I'll need to pick up a present for her. What do you think she'd like?"
Lamont laughed, at his wife's eagerness to be a good sport, but also at the fact they had money to do such things. A cake? Presents? Madness!
"Perhaps Delia can help while she's here," Lamont offered. She can help with cooking and washing."
"That sounds fine," Velma said, offering a smile. Lamont kissed her. She pulled back a little, putting a curious look on Lamont's face. She smiled sheepishly and leaned forward and kissed him back.
Lamont set down the letter and hugged Velma, kissing her forehead. "Do you need me to help with Mr. Lockhart's dinner? We should leave the house at six for dinner."
"It should be fine."
Lamont nodded and left to return to the cellar. Velma picked up the letter and read:
Daddy,
I hope this letter finds you and Velma well. A storm blew through the county and did some kind of terrible damage to Gramma's roof. It's leaking in nearly every room, except hers. She thinks I should come away and stay with you while repairs are done. Please let Velma know I won't be any trouble; in fact, I can help with whatever you need helping with. Gramma has given me train fare, and I leave first thing Friday morning -- just in time for my birthday! I'm so glad I get to spend it with you!
Your loving honey bunny,
Delia
Velma softened at the thought of her stepdaughter coming for a visit. Perhaps it would add to the joy and delight they were currently experiencing. Besides, she thought, it would do her good to have a chance to work alongside Delia and get to know her better.
The rest of the day flew at lightning speed. Velma heard Mr. Lockhart ascend the stairs to the third floor at sunset. She remembered this was her cue to go and spruce up his room.
Lockhart was a clean man. His belongings were not thrown about as many men are want to do, leaving them strewn all over the place. Lockhart kept everything fastidiously tidy. His clothing, his belongings, every single thing she had purchased on his behalf. She noticed he had purchased a new pair of leather boots.
After finishing cleaning up Lockhart's bedroom, Velma went into the sitting room and dusted. She looked at the dresser, the one she suspected Lockhart had secured his case. She worked each of the drawers. Each opened, except for the bottom drawer. The key was still missing.
At five o'clock, Carter returned, only for a few minutes to catch up with Lamont. He had clearly rested during the day, for his demeanor was more energetic and eager.
Velma listened quietly while Carter and Lamont talked.
"The commissioner thinks there might be another one tonight," Carter said. "The Hangman always does them in pairs, you see?"
"You're right," Lamont said, the idea dawning on him. "So you think that monster will try to go to work again tonight?"
Carter gave a solemn nod. "And there's a solid chance we'll catch him for good this time, dead or alive. We've added to the night watch. There'll be many more on patrol."
"And how many is that?" Lamont asked.
"Guess?" Carter said, a gleeful look on his face.
"Fifty?"
"Try 100 men!"
"I don't believe it!" Lamont slapped his knee in surprise.
"That must be every police office in town," Velma said.
Carter nodded. "You'd better believe it. And get a load of this," he said, pulling out his notebook and flipping it open to extract a bit of newspaper.
"The police are reluctant to admit no clues are forthcoming as to who committed these terrible crimes. Which is why the Commissioner of Charleston police is amassing a massive force of officers to patrol all corners of Charleston, with emphasis on Battery Park."
"No clues, eh?" Lamont thought aloud. "Well, it would explain why the police haven't been able to catch him or find a suspect yet."
"Oh, there are clues. But listen to this part," Carter continued.
"Law enforcement here in Charleston seems to have devolved into a game of hide and no-seek, with police blindfolded and bound at the hands. This is what has allowed the murderer to run rampant through the streets and alleys of this fair city." Carter smiled as he folded up the slip of newspaper and tucked it back into his notebook. He looked rather pleased, despite the less than favorable tone the newspaper took with the police.
"Well, that doesn't sound good," Lamont said.
"Not at all," Velma added.
"We wanted
it to read that way. The newspaper editor is working with us to spring a trap on the Hangman. Put him in the noose for once!"
"So you think it's just one person?" Velma asked.
"The police think it might be more than one man, maybe even a small team," Carter said.
"Really?" Velma asked, seeming relieved.
Carter nodded. "Some of the detectives think it's a gang, that it couldn't be the work of one man."
"What do think about that, Carter?"
"Well, Mrs. Barnes, I don't know. It's puzzling, any way you look at it." He rose from his seat. "Well, I'd better head in and see if we can catch this Hangman. See you both tomorrow?"
Lamont and Velma rose, nodding. Carter smiled, then paused. "Any news of Miss Delia?" he asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.
Lamont's face brightened. "As a matter of fact, yes. She's coming tomorrow. Her gramma is sending her here for a few days."
"Is that right?" Carter said. "Tomorrow, you say?" He nodded, donned his hat and left.
Lamont and Velma looked at each other. "Is that right?" Lamont said, mocking their friend Carter. Velma slapped Lamont's arm playfully.
The evening out for the Barneses was a treat, yet such a strange thing to them. After all, it had been a long time since they'd gone out like a married couple to enjoy a fine meal and each other's company. Both felt uneasy, as if they were wearing something that didn't fit them entirely.
Eventually, the meal and the conversation that ultimately ensued brought them out of their shells and soon the couple found themselves laughing and at one point, Lamont held Velma's hand.
Velma found herself smiling at her husband in a way she hadn't in quite some time. Her eyes brushed past her husband's head as the waiter approached with their coffee, catching sight of something in the front window of the restaurant. A passerby, glancing in the restaurant as he passed. His eyes met Velma's. It was Lockhart. There was no recognition. He might have been looking at a complete stranger, Velma thought later. And his face, partially concealed by a scarf she'd never seen before in his bedroom, seemed strange -- stranger than usual. It seemed unearthly. She blinked and he was gone. Lamont noticed her look and turned, but Lockhart was gone, if he'd been there at all.
Velma dismissed the sighting as an overactive imagination and one glass too many of wine.
Lamont and Velma returned home and went to bed straight away. Despite the romantic evening of food and wine, they were too tired for sex.
But Velma couldn't sleep. She lay in bed beside a snoring Lamont, hearing the church bell in the distance chime the hours and half hours.
As she was finally dozing off at nearly one o'clock, she heard the sound she expected to hear. Mr. Lockhart's footsteps coming down the stairs just outside her bedroom. He crept along the hallway and let himself out so quietly that anyone else would have dismissed the sounds as the house merely settling in.
Velma considered rising to watch from the bedroom window, but something kept her fixed in her spot beside Lamont. She couldn't move. And though she tried to stay awake, she fell into a deep sleep, so deep she never heard Mr. Lockhart return.
****************
Her eyes sprang open early the next morning. She jumped out of bed, dressed quickly and went into the hallway. She retrieved the newspaper that had been slid through the mail slot at the front door. Lamont still slept, no doubt a deep sleep induced by the bottle of wine the night before.
The newspaper in hand, Velma lit one of the lanterns in the front room and sat in her chair, because she found herself shivering.
The paper's headline: THE HANGMAN MURDERS
Her eyes spilled across the opening paragraph of the front-page story:
"As of press time, there is little to report concerning the gruesome series of murders, undoubtedly the work of a deranged mind. Since the last murder yesterday morning, police have found no more reliable clues as to the identify or identities of the perpetrator or perpetrators. Several arrests were made yesterday; however, in each case the suspects were able to provide a verifiable alibi."
Velma kept reading, the quietness of the early morning making her feel even more uneasy, as if something was about to pounce. The remaining details were thin and added nothing more than the account Carter had given them.
Velma folded the paper back to its original presentation and put it back on the floor in front of the mail slot. She blew out the lantern and crept back into her room, quickly disrobing and climbing back into the bed.
"Everything okay?" Lamont murmured as he turned over to face her. He was barely awake. "You all right, Velma? It's early."
She let out a slow sigh and whispered, "No, Lamont. Nothing at all. Go back to sleep, dear."
His hand found her breast and gently cupped it. "We didn't have any fun when we got home. All that wine," he said, his face half in his pillow.
An hour later, they rose from the bed in a pleasant, cheery mood. Lamont was excited at prospect of his Delia coming to visit. Velma found herself excited too, for Delia's arrival meant help, but also because what she had worried over in the deepest parts of her mind seemed alleviated.
At ten o-clock, Lamont went out to pick up things for Delia's birthday dinner: pot roast, fresh vegetables and a cherry pie from the local baker. He returned rather quickly, taking no time to gossip as he wanted to get home as quickly as possible to be there when his daughter arrived.
At noon, a taxi pulled up in front of the house. A young woman climbed out of the back as the taxi driver retrieved her luggage of a simple suitcase and set it on the sidewalk.
It was Delia. She was dressed in a smart brown dress and hat with matching shoes and gloves. She was tall like Lamont but her face bore no resemblance to his. Her eyes were a light brown and her skin was lighter than Lamont's.
"Gramma said to take a cab in case of bad weather," she said, giddy with being in a big city like Charleston. Velma hugged her, although it was a bit awkward, for the women were almost strangers. But each smiled at the other warmly. Lamont was pleased, encircling his daughter in a bear-sized hug, lifting her about two inches off the ground. She laughed and squealed as Lamont planted a large kiss on her cheek. "Daddy," she said. "You'll squeeze the life out of me."
"Lamont, let the poor girl down. You'll suffocate her. Grab her suitcase for her," Velma said. Lamont nodded as he turned to pay the taxi driver.
Suddenly, in the distance, loud cries pierced the noontime air.
"What in the world?" Delia said as Lamont instinctively stepped in front of Velma and Delia.
"Velma, take Delia and get in the house," he said, passing the suitcase to his wife.
The taxi driver, a sullen looking, grizzled man, spoke in a low tone, "It's probably that mess up near the First Baptist Church. He's done in two of them this time."
"The Hangman?" Lamont asked, looking in the direction of the church.
"Aye-yeah," said the taxi driver. "Two of them, within just a few yards of one another. He's got helluva nerve. Couple of whores, they were."
"Well, did they catch him?" Lamont asked.
"Hell, no, they didn't catch him! It must have happened last night, cos' they is as cold as the grave. They was at opposite ends of Water Street, hidden behind some empty houses. That's why they weren't found until today. I tell you, I'm seriously giving thought to leaving this place, head down to Atlanta where my cousin lives." The taxi driver climbed into his cab and drove in the opposite direction of the cries.
Now there wore cries coming from the area. It was the newsboys again.
"Double murders near First Baptist Church!" came the cry.
"The Hangman strikes again!" came another.
Lamont quickly walked toward the nearest paperboy and placed a coin in his hand, taking the paper and unfolding it. As he pored over the front page, he thought of Carter and wondered whether he would stop by today and give them the full story, as opposed to the meager details the papers kept repeating with each edition.
&
nbsp; He walked back inside, hearing Delia's voice as she recounted the terrible storm that wrecked her grandmother's rooftop.
Lamont entered the sitting room, head half buried in the paper.
"Daddy, what was all that racket about?"
Lamont turned his paper to face Delia and Velma. The headline read: THE HANGMAN'S DOUBLE MURDER!
Sugar in Her Bowl Page 8