The Mystery at Belle Magnolia (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 3)

by Madison Kent

  "My sympathies...if there is anything I can do for Hannah...please, you will tell me. Please tell her I will be there for her," he said with familiarity.

  It prompted Madeline to say, "You speak of our Hannah as if you may have been close friends, not just of our Wesley, but of her also."

  "Oh...I take it she did not tell you then. Yes, Hanna and I were more than close—we once had planned to marry."

  She assumed he noticed the look on their faces, because he added, "Truly, it was a long time ago. We grew up together, childhood sweethearts and all that, the old-time story of the girl next door, was, in fact, true for us. Mademoiselle Mayfair and my father were neighbors. Father helped her with her financial investments after her husband died—I'd like to think we helped secure the existence of Belle Magnolia. She wasn't always the savvy, strong business woman she is today.

  Wesley, of course, was well aware of our little romance. We were good friends, and it never interfered with our work alliance."

  "As you can imagine, Hannah is too unwell to come. We have a letter from her giving us permission to take Wesley's belongings back to the mansion. Can you assist us with this request?" asked Madeline.

  "There are legal documents and private things that belong here. I hope you don't mind that I will have my secretary, Sarah, attend to you. She can show you where his personal items are, and avoid your disturbing anything that might be confidential."

  He stood and shook their hands, saying, "Please tell Hannah and her mother I will be around soon to pay my respects. I will give them time to recover before I do so."

  She said, "Before we leave, may I ask if you have any idea who might have committed the crime? The obvious connection to Guy Finaldi, of course, but besides that, were there any clients that may have shown a particular hostility towards him?"

  "Mrs. Donovan, there are enemies in every lawyer's office, but I don't remember anyone who didn't like and respect him. He had the usual hate mail once in a while as we all do, but nothing of any significance.

  The Guy Finaldi case brought us our greatest praise and greatest hate mail. For a while, we experienced the same activity as Wesley did. We had many a broken window, but it calmed down after a few days.

  The only one I can point to, who continues to harass us, is the boy's aunt. Her name is Marguerite, I believe. She and her brother stood outside all during and after the trail, taunting us as we came and went. A lovely girl, it was a surprise to me that she did it. She's just a bit of a girl, with the most beautiful, strawberry-blond hair I ever saw. Her brother had the same coloring, although, on him, it was rather unbecoming."

  "Do you know her last name? Madeline asked.

  "I don't, but I think Sarah does. She gathered as much information as she could about those who bothered us, in the event we had to call the police."

  Madeline wondered if the girl could be the one she saw running through the grounds on the day of Wesley's death. It seemed too coincidental not to be; besides, she doubted if many people could fit the description he gave.

  "Is it possible we could get the names of the people who may have made threats against Wesley?" asked Hugh.

  "Again, probably something Sarah can help you with."

  With that, he bid them good-bye, stopping to speak with a young lady, who then approached them and introduced herself as Sarah Goodman.

  She took them to a tiny, but neat room, filled with shelves of books and paperwork. Despite the small space, everything was organized, clearly reflecting the Wesley Madeline had come to know. There were several blooming plants, and, at a glance, she noticed three pictures of Hannah prominently displayed.

  She gathered them together, and gently placed them in her satchel, somehow feeling they deserved a special reverence, as they were his treasured belongings. Sarah unlocked his desk drawer, and after stating there was nothing in it that was important, Madeline looked inside. Besides the usual writing implements, and some scrawled notes about a dinner party, there was one unusual find, a picture of Hannah and Andrew. It appeared they might have been in their teenage years.

  Finding this most curious, she walked over to Hugh and showed it to him. They both were silent in front of Sarah, but she could see in his face that he also was surprised. Madeline wondered why Wesley had a photograph of them when she would have thought it something he would rather forget, even if it were long ago.

  When they had finished, they laid their parcels in the front area of the office, requesting to take them when they had completed their business in the city. Madeline did, however, keep the picture of Hannah and Andrew tucked into her satchel along with the last name of Marguerite, which Sarah had said was DuPont.

  When they were back inside the market area, she said, "So, tell me, what do you make of it? What did you think of Andrew, and why do you think Wesley had a picture of his wife with an old beau? Did that not strike you as odd?"

  "He seemed very smooth, indeed. I am familiar with the behavior of solicitors—they are adept at putting on a calm, reassuring exterior, but he has perfected it.

  "As for the picture, that in every way does not ring true to what I know about Wesley. It seems unlikely, with his obvious devotion to Hannah, that he would have a reminder of her and a past love, and of all places in his desk drawer. It was a place where he must have seen it frequently," replied Hugh.

  "I do believe we must entreat Mademoiselle Mayfair into telling us what she might know about her daughter's relationship with Andrew."

  "I agree."

  They had rounded the corner and were now approaching the area of continual tents with vendors plying their wares. On a bench near one of the vegetable stands was a young girl rocking a baby in her arms.

  She touched Hugh's arm and said, "That girl, the one with the strawberry-blond hair holding the baby, I believe she is the one I saw running across the grounds: the one who is an aunt to Armand LaLande."

  Taking her lead, Hugh followed after her as they moved in the direction of the girl.

  When they were within a few feet of her, Madeline called out, "Marguerite...Marguerite DuPont, may we have a word with you?"

  The girl cocked her head upright, startled. At first, she glanced at her quizzically, then with a menacing look at Madeline, she dropped her bundle and ran off.

  Madeline looked down in fright, and yelled, "Dear God, the baby."

  Hugh had already stepped up his pace and got to the child before she did.

  "It's all right, Madeline. It's just a doll. What in the world...that girl...there is something wrong there."

  He handed the doll to her, still wrapped in its fine, silk blanket.

  "It is a beautiful doll. It looks expensive, dressed in a good quality cloth and blanket. She was singing to it as if it were real. I don't understand why she ran," said Madeline.

  A few people had gathered, and one older woman answered from behind her, "Don't know why she ran. That poor child is as crazy as they come since the death of Armand. She was more than an aunt; she cared for him like a mother. The real mother always proved to be sickly, and she done care for him like her own since he was born.

  "She runs from any of us if we try to speak to her, but she did seem to be frightened of you."

  "I must return her lovely doll to her. Do you know where she lives?" Madeline asked the woman.

  "I do, but they say she don't stay there anymore. That she lives in the woods with the ones who practice the voodoo. They say she's lost her mind."

  "We wanted to learn some new information, and I'd say we've had a good start," Hugh said as he smiled at her. "Would you mind if we stopped for a cup of that chicory coffee and some biscuits?"

  "Not at all. That would be a pleasure indeed."

  While sipping on their coffee, they read the latest news articles about Wesley and the ongoing editorials about the guilt of Guy Finaldi.

  Hugh said, "I wonder what Jonathan would have to say about it. I'm sure he would never write an article for the Times like this. Look, I'
ve spotted at least three articles that continue to suggest Guy Finaldi is guilty when he has clearly been found innocent in a court of law. It is no wonder that this belief lives on and continues the controversy."

  "I cannot help but wonder how...", She was about to say "Guy Finaldi" when she looked up to see the man himself waving to her and calling out her name.

  "Mrs. Donovan, I have meant to call on you. I have just learned the news about Mr. Randolph. I have been staying in a cabin in the woods with my cousin, to avoid people, and one of the neighbors came to tell me. I can tell you I have been in the worse way since I heard. I feel somehow like all of this is my fault, even though I am innocent," he said.

  Madeline introduced Guy to Hugh, and he immediately began a tirade against what had happened and his views about the law. Guy spoke to them about the ordeal of the trial, and the harassment that he and his family endured. One of his friends who was with him on the night of the stabbing came by and joined them. They continued conversing for the better part of an hour before they saw Jonathan and Walter coming toward them.

  Jonathan was carrying a package with him and said, "Madeline, I remembered how much you enjoyed a glass of absinthe and loved your cherry chocolates. I have brought enough to share with the household, and some additional candy. I thought it the least I could do for their hospitality toward Walter and me."

  She hadn't touched a drop of absinthe for many months, but now that Jonathan had brought it, she decided it was a fortuitous gift that she would not pass up. Somehow, just the idea of imbibing in the delicious green fairy perked her up.

  "Thank you, Jonathan. I am pleased to have you meet, Guy Finaldi. He is the gentleman Wesley defended. His friend, Peter Moore, was with him the day someone took a stab at him."

  Guy said, "How do you do? I have had enough of the hate and had planned to leave the city for a while, despite my parents protests. But now, I am done hiding, and I will offer my services to help find who did this to my protector, to the man who saved my life."

  "Though we may be a motley group of boys, not always behaving properly, we know a thing or two about loyalty. I hope I can speak for all of us when I say we will do our part also," said Peter, the short, tender-faced youth with the sandy, ragged hair.

  "Were you able to learn anything?" Hugh asked of Jonathan.

  "Walter here found out some information while I was out purchasing the absinthe," he replied.

  He motioned to Walter indicating he wished him to tell the story.

  "A fascinating place...it was no feat on my part, the way the people here congregate and talk, all you have to do is insert yourself into the conversation. I found many people willing to tell what they know about the possibility of the Mafia being involved.

  "Have you heard of the man they call 'Quick Vinnie'? He is someone they talk of with a quiver in their voice, looking over their shoulder as if he might suddenly appear and assault them. It seems to be the consensus among many that he was the one hired to assassinate Mr. Randolph. The people who believe he was innocent think he would have done it to silence Mr. Randolph and keep him from any further investigation, and also to assure the public the Mafia wasn't involved, and that it was Mr. Finaldi who committed the crime.

  "Those who do think Mr. Randolph responsible for defending a guilty man believe Marie Laveau's spirit or her living follower, Madame Clarice, may have had a hand in having him do the deed. I would certainly like to meet the man. I have sketched something of him from the descriptions given, although, they are not consistent. I don't know how accurate they are," said Walter.

  "Another talent he has that may prove to be invaluable. He once spent the summer taking art instruction in Paris," said Jonathan.

  "Yes, we have heard Vinnie's name mentioned, and with the same note of fear from those speaking about him. I agree that we should perhaps come down to the square in the midnight hour and see what we may find then," said Hugh.

  Guy added, "We are always out at that time, so we will also keep a watch for him."

  Madeline did not wish to share what they had found out in the presence of Guy and Peter, stating that what they found out was insignificant, and they would speak of it at a later time.

  As the carriage arrived to take them back to Belle Magnolia, Jonathan stated, "Madeline, may I sit beside you. We have so much to talk about since our last meeting. I am eager to share the details of some of the stories I have been covering."

  She glanced at Hugh, and he showed no signs of discontent at Jonathan's remarks, but once again she felt torn between her affection for these two charming men she called her dearest friends.

  Jonathan went on to tell her a political story that involving a state senator murdered by someone he was mentoring because he showed too keen an interest in his fiancé. He also spoke of the street violence that constantly erupted and almost always ended in someone's death.

  "But none of my stories have had the flavor of what's happening here. I hope we may meet Madame Clarice soon. I have not had the occasion to come across a voodoo priestess in all my travels and have to say I have never heard of this Marie Laveau. I'd like to learn more about her also," said Jonathan.

  "She is an intriguing person. Yes, we must go back and see her again.

  These next days will be difficult, the autopsy, the funeral and the police hovering around the property; and the ever-present sense of danger that some other incident or assault might take place," said Madeline.

  "There will be safety in numbers...I am glad we arrived when we did so that we may ease the burden of the watch. Your father looks unwell. I can see how much all of this has affected him."

  "I know. I am too close to father, I think. I see him as this indomitable force that will never get ill or old. I would like to see him rest more. It is well that you and Walter are here," she said as she touched his hand.

  When he smiled back at her, she felt calm and empowered.

  Arriving at the mansion, the men decided they would enjoy a card game and a fine cigar. Finally getting her father to acquiesce, they adjourned to the drawing room. Belle was still with Hannah in her room, so Madeline had Hattie draw her a bath. It would be lovely to rest in cool, clean water on this muggy afternoon, and take a moment to write in her journal.

  August 12, 1889

  It is the second day without our Wesley, but yet it feels a long time. When a voice is suddenly silent, time has a way of deceiving us.

  The arrival of Jonathan and Walter has given us a much-needed distraction and for me a reason to feel some joy. I have learned such a hard lesson after my family was no longer, that we must resolve to infuse happiness into our life even in the most difficult of times.

  My thinking on possible suspects at the moment is that there are so many, we must be more active in getting information. I would like to know more about Andrew LeBlanc, Quick Vinnie and Marguerite DuPont, and her brother. Also, I hope that Guy might give us a direction concerning the local Mafia.

  Madame Clarice is a person of interest, and I feel she may be guilty of wrongdoing. I suppose we must attend her rituals to find out more.

  My thoughts and prayers are with Hannah and hope she will be able to get through this without losing her mind.

  She was looking forward to sharing the absinthe Jonathan had brought from the market. She knew she was probably slipping back into bad habits, but giving the fact that life was so fragile and taken so quickly; it somehow allowed her the luxury to have the sweet nectar she desired.

  It would also be comforting to have both her dear friends, Jonathan and Hugh beside her again.

  Chapter Nine

  Hannah's Past

  Hannah and Belle wore black to the dinner while everyone else wore a black armband. The dinner began rather soberly, without anyone saying much. But then Hannah said, "No, this will not do. Of all people in the world, my Wesley would not like this type of morbidity. If anything, we should talk about what our plan is to avenge his death."

  Madeline was star
tled to see Hannah so clear headed after her recent haunting behavior.

  She hesitated for a moment before speaking but believed she must know Hannah's reaction.

  "We saw Mr. LeBlanc. He was quite gracious, and we have brought Wesley's belongings back to you. He said he would be coming to Belle Magnolia to pay his respects and offer his condolences to you and Belle within the next few days."

  At first, Hannah seemed to have no reaction other than acknowledging the statement. Then she began to stir her coffee and looked into the blackness as if it had some hypnotic effect upon her. Her lips grew thin as she pressed them together. She continued the stirring until Belle touched her hand and said, "Isn't that nice of Mr. LeBlanc. He is an old friend of the family. Will you not be pleased to see him?"

  "Mother, really," she said in a terse voice, "how could I possibly be pleased to see anyone? I will see him if he comes, but I would rather that he didn't."

  Madeline followed the statement by touching Belle's shoulder as if to convey she was sorry for her outburst.

  Then changing the subject, she said, "Mrs. Brown has outdone herself, and I commend her for the effort she made in serving us this lovely dinner.

  "Indeed, it is like no other I have ever had and is most pleasing," said Hugh.

  "I concur. It has a marvelous flavor. I hope she will tell me the secret of its taste," Jonathan said.

  She knew they both had covered for her faux pas. It may have been indelicate to have spoken of it, but it did confirm her suspicions that something, more than the fact that Andrew was a past suitor, was between him and Hannah. If he was still in love with Hannah, could he also wish that some harm befall, Wesley? Perhaps that was too nefarious a situation—Mr. LeBlanc appeared the gentleman in every way. Still there must have been a reason for that photograph to be in Wesley's desk.