by Madison Kent
"Your friends are welcome to go to the drawing room where refreshments are being served," she said. "Please wait for me, I will be right back."
She knew she would have to get Hugh to find Jonathan and have him set up into one of the upstairs room until Mario and his friends left.
Hugh said, "I already took care of it, the minute he started to speak with you. Fortunately, I found Jonathan in the kitchen looking for his third cup of coffee and told him of our visitors. He'll be in the upstairs library. He will still be able to view who comes and goes and any other activities like who may have thrown that rock."
"I think I will spend some time with our interesting friend, Mario. Will you excuse me, Hugh?"
"All right...but please be careful."
She returned to where Mario was standing, conversing with other people she did not know.
He walked toward her and said, "May we go on the veranda and you can tell me why you look so distressed? I don't believe it is just because of Wesley's funeral," said Mario.
She once again took his arm and leaned slightly against him in a more familiar way. He looked pleased when she did this, and he smiled at her.
"Mario, you are so keen to notice that I am melancholy. Yes, it is more than Wesley. It is the whole affair, having the people in the city act so against the family; Guy Finaldi not being able to escape public ridicule. I would like some answers, but every day brings more questions as to why all these things have occurred."
"If I can help you find those answers, I promise I will. I hope we will see more of each other before you and your cousin return to Chicago. I look forward to spending some time with you," said Mario.
"As I do you, Mario. You seem to know so much about this city, and move in mysterious circles. Most of the men I meet do not have your daring and your charm."
"Do you mean that? It gives me the courage to ask you to a garden party one of my cousin's is having tomorrow. Of course, unless it is too soon...I mean with the funeral."
"No, I would be happy to join you. It will be good to be away from the grieving and sadness for awhile."
"I will pick you up at three. Will that suit you?"
"That is fine. I'm sure it will be a lovely day."
She stayed with Mario for the next hour before he left, she speaking of Chicago, and he of his native Sicily. She found it perplexing that such a charming young boy should have gotten himself into dire straits. She was certain he did not realize how much danger he was in, despite the protection of his cousin, Vinnie.
"Until then, you will be in my thoughts. You are a fine lady, Miss Donovan."
"Thank you, you are most kind. Until tomorrow."
Hugh came up behind her as soon as Mario was out of sight.
"Madeline, do you think you can trust that lad?"
"I will have to. I just made an engagement to see him tomorrow evening for a garden party."
"You didn't? You won't have an escort for that. He will not be expecting me to go along," said Hugh.
"Of course not—that is why I did it. I can't get closer to him with you around," she said as she smiled up at him.
When the last of the guests left, Hannah and Belle retired, looking as if they had been shipwrecked. Drawn and tired, they both had a pale, almost gray pallor to their face. Madeline was glad the day was over, and maybe some healing could begin to take place.
Jonathan had come back from the kitchen to join them in the drawing room.
"Is anyone game to go back into the city? I, for one, would like to hear the scuttlebutt about the funeral today," Jonathan said.
"I'd like to go. The somber atmosphere here has made me think about having a beer or two in the pub," said Walter.
"Yes, we have brought you into something that has been unexpectedly dire. I agree. I'm sure they will understand if we have a late dinner in the city," said Madeline.
Father walked in and said, "Do go. What you have experienced of late will cause you too much distress if you do not have a respite from it. I will be here for Hannah and Belle."
"But what of you, Father? When will your time come to get away?" asked Madeline.
"In the next day or two, perhaps you will give me the honor of having dinner alone with your Father."
"Gladly. Thank you for being the best father in the world. How fortunate I have been to be your daughter."
He smiled and embraced her for a long moment, then scurried them away with his hand, "Now, go, before the evening is passed. Make the most of it."
"Samuel, can we just take a tour of the city? Take us down all the streets in town, even the seedy side. I'd like to see more than just the market area, that is if it's all right with all of my companions," said Madeline.
They spent the better part of an hour taking in the sights and smells of the city. The aroma of Cajun and French cooking filled the streets. Music was also an integral part of this unique place, along with the soulful songs of people singing even as they walked by you on the street.
They passed a unique Italian restaurant. They could hear the band as they neared it and the frivolity from the patrons.
"This looks like a good place to spend an hour to two," said Hugh.
The Luizza's Restaurant and Bar stood out among the other establishments. Situated on the corner of the street, the angle made it look larger and more inviting. The motif, permeated with flags and memorabilia, created an atmosphere that made one feel they had stepped into a part of Italy itself.
After several glasses of wine and dining on the house specialty, a combination of stuffed cheese pasta, meatballs, and breaded chicken with sauce, Madeline felt she had partaken of the first truly wonderful meal since she had been in New Orleans.
Hugh had asked her to dance, and this time, she accepted readily. The wine giving her reserved personality a little push.
They were playing a romantic waltz, and Hugh moved her around the dancing area like a professional dancer. Madeline was finding it difficult to keep up with him.
"I must say, Hugh, I never took you for a dancer. You are my superior. I usually find just the opposite. What is your secret?"
"My Mother and Father loved to dance. I would dance with my Mother in the kitchen when I was just a lad. When Mother thought I showed some talent, she enrolled me in a theatrical company that offered dance lessons. I can tell you; I have used those lessons in my law practice many times. Learning how to present oneself and have a certain grace about you can help tremendously in my profession."
"I still find I know so little about you despite having met you over a year ago. I suppose it is because we are always discussing murder and little else."
"Speaking of which, there is Andrew LeBlanc, and he looks like he may have had too much to drink. It is a perfect opportunity to speak with him," continued Hugh.
"I believe Jonathan has spotted him also. Isn't that him making his way over to him?"
"It is. Shall we try to join them?"
"Yes, we will have to act now. If he sees us, I believe he will leave."
Madeline and Jonathan penned Andrew in, pushing up against the bar on either side of him. Hugh took a position near Madeline.
"What is this? Have you been following me?" asked LeBlanc.
"No, but we have wanted to speak to you about Hannah, and you keep avoiding us. Why won't you explain to us what happened at the cabin? I'm sure Hannah would like to know," questioned Madeline.
He was slurring his words which made Madeline hopeful that his inebriated state may prove useful. She was sure now he might reveal something to them.
"Look, old man, we're trying to help you. After all, we know you love Hannah. We want to get you back in favor with her. She will need a good man to be there for her now that Wesley is gone," said Jonathan.
He was so smooth and correct in his approach. She chided herself for not having used a similar tactic.
Letting his guard down, Andrew began to speak, "Have you ever loved someone so much you would wait forever for them? B
ut then forever never seems to come. I thought she would outgrow that bland, little man. I never thought she loved him. I was sure she would return to me. Then, the years went by, and I watched them together, and I knew I had to do something before it was too late. I believed if they had children, she would never leave him. I felt I had to act."
"What do you mean, you had to act?" asked Jonathan.
"What's the difference if I tell you? The two of you have already probably seen the pictures," said Andrew.
"You mean the pictures of you and Hannah when you were younger? Yes, we found them in Wesley's top desk drawer. We thought it quite peculiar and couldn't imagine why he would have them," said Madeline.
"I gave them to him along with the love letters that Hannah wrote to me. I wanted him to realize that, in the end, it was useless for him not to acknowledge that he was with the wrong woman. She belonged to me once, and she should return to me. She was always my intended for as long as I can remember," said Andrew.
"Why didn't you go to your meeting with her at the cabin?" asked Jonathan.
"I was there, but things went all wrong. I need to speak with her to explain what happened with Wesley. She has to forgive me. Do you think she would meet me at the bridge tomorrow night? Away from the eyes of her mother, maybe I can explain myself," said Andrew.
"We will ask her. What time?" asked Madeline.
"Around nine o'clock. I think that old Belle will be asleep by then," said Andrew.
"You know it is a long shot that she will come," said Jonathan.
"I know, but I have to take a chance," said Andrew.
With those words, he bid them good day stating he did not feel well and wished to rest and refresh himself for his possible meeting with Hannah the next evening. He stated he would wait for her until midnight. If she did not come, he said he would still pursue her because he felt compelled to, reiterating that she was his one true love.
When they returned to the table where Walter was waiting for them, Jonathan retold their conversation with Andrew.
"I don't know how to feel about him, whether he is a threat to her or just a nuisance. Do you think his misguided obsession may have led him to harm Wesley after all?" asked Madeline of the gentlemen at the table.
"He doesn't seem right to me somehow," said Walter.
"His obsession with Hannah seems to have gotten the better of him," said Jonathan.
"His behavior is unstable and warrants suspicion. Still, he does love her. But I have tried cases, such as this, where the man becomes delusional enough to believe he is doing the best thing for all involved by eliminating the person whom he believes is the cause for everyone's unhappiness," said Hugh.
It was nearly midnight before they left the Luizza. They had momentarily been able to relax and put aside some of the anxiety of the past few days.
During the carriage ride home, they could see the fires burning brightly and hear the ever-present Conga drums from Lake Pontchartrain and Madame Clarice's congregation.
"I know what you're thinking, but aren't you worn out?" asked Hugh of Madeline.
"Of course, still it is too tempting. Don't you agree, Jonathan and Walter?" she asked.
"Well, yes, I suppose I do. When I hear those Conga Drums, I feel like they're calling me," said Walter.
"All right. I'm in the minority," said Hugh.
Chapter Nineteen
Cursed
There is something about the midnight hour that made Madeline feel intoxicated. The end of the day, its black night covering the city like a warm blanket, and the beginning of the new day, new hope, just a breath away. Sometimes it frightened her and gave her a feeling of unspeakable dread, and sometimes it exhilarated her. Tonight, it gave her a feeling of hope.
The hypnotic actions of Madame Clarice were evident. When she appeared, there was a flurry of drum beating, wailing, and then near silence as she began to speak to her waiting flock.
Their group was further in the back this time. The area nearest to Clarice was taken by throngs of bodies, lined up, shoulder to shoulder, to be closer to her. Their heads bobbing in agreement to anything that she said.
In the distance, she thought she saw Pierre DuPont.
Softly she spoke to Hugh, "Is that Pierre DuPont coming toward us?"
"I don't see him. There are too many people," he replied.
"I don't see Marguerite, and she is usually with him. Perhaps I was mistaken," said Madeline.
Madam Clarice began with her usual incantations, which Madeline didn't understand. They spoke in either some foreign language or voodoo speak. Then she pulled a black doll from under her gown, rubbing it in what seemed to be a sexual manner.
"Madeline, the doll—the hair on its head. It's just a patchy mess, but it's the color of your hair," said Jonathan.
"We must get closer," she urged.
Jonathan and Hugh helped her to her feet. The party of four then pushed their way to the edges of the crowd, maneuvering towards Madame Clarice.
She was chanting over the doll, calling out Madeline's name. She was now within visual distance, and Clarice looked her dead in the eye. Madeline felt her entire body seem to freeze in place as Clarice continued to hold her gaze.
Standing between Hugh and Jonathan, Hugh had placed his hand in hers while Jonathan had moved closer to her shoulder. Their presence made her feel safe, despite the feeling of unease that had taken over her senses.
"The name of Madeline shall be cursed. She has brought harm to those in our community," said Clarice.
The crowd remained silent as if responding to an unspoken commandment directed by her.
Clarice took something from around her wrist and placed it over the black doll. The firelight was bright enough to see the golden chain with a crucifix attached.
Madeline's hand went to her mouth. "It is the necklace I gave to Marguerite. That sweet, child...I cannot believe she gave it to that woman," said Madeline.
Madame Clarice continued to chant guttural words against Madeline. With Madeline's eyes transfixed on her, she took a long black pin and struck it into the doll's heart.
Madeline's head moved in a strange roll, and she fell backward into Jonathan's arms in a dead faint.
"Madeline, Madeline," she heard Hugh's voice as he stroked her face.
"Come, it's only that malicious woman, trying to gain followers," said Hugh.
"I'm sorry. It must have been the heat. Suddenly, when I saw her stick that pin in the doll, I felt myself grow dizzy. How long was I unconscious?" asked Madeline.
"Not long, just for a minute," answered Jonathan.
Everyone was looking at her, and Clarice was laughing, telling the crowd that her curse had already begun, calling everyone's attention to her as she lay against Jonathan like a wounded animal.
She hated that she didn't seem able to pull herself together. Feeling weak and disoriented, she continued to press against Jonathan for support. This was exactly the behavior she wished to avoid displaying. It gave Madame Clarice the appearance of growing even more powerful as she grew weaker.
Clarice continued to glare at her, prompting Madeline to say, "Please, it is enough. Can we go from this place?"
However, she began to walk and found her knees buckled under her.
Hugh and Walter caught her as she fell and set her on the grass.
"I feel so terribly foolish. I'm sorry, gentlemen. If we can sit for a few minutes, I'm sure I will regain my footing and my mind. I must have lost it to let that charlatan cause me to react so," said Madeline.
"Or maybe, it's your just punishment," said a voice from behind her.
"How dare you speak to her like that?" said Jonathan, looking as if he were about to strike at the person who spoke those words.
She turned to see the stern face of Pierre DuPont.
"I'll speak to her any way I wish. I'm sure you know the whereabouts of my sister, Marguerite. Do you have her hidden at that ghastly place you reside?" asked Pierre.
&nbs
p; Hugh was about to speak, and Jonathan and Walter crowded in around her as if to protect her from this man.
She touched Hugh's hand to interrupt him.
"It is all right, gentlemen. I have a few questions myself for Mr. DuPont. That necklace that woman placed around the doll's neck. It was a gift I gave to your sister. I don't believe she would have parted with it without your influence."
"You are right. All the more reason to demand it from her. You are the last person who should be having any influence over my sister. It was fortunate indeed, for it provided me with the personal item Madame Clarice needed to complete her spell," said Pierre.
"Why have you sought this vengeance against me personally?" asked Madeline.
"I have just told you. I am certain you have taken my sister. Perhaps not unwillingly, but still took her just he same. I demand that you tell me where she is," said Pierre.
"You are mistaken at every word. Your sister is not on the premises of Belle Magnolia. Madeline has done nothing but try to help her, and you, for that matter, for we are all endeavoring to find out the person who was responsible for Armand's death. I would think you would be grateful," said Hugh tersely, clenching his fists as he spoke.
"That know the killer; it is Guy Finaldi. Of course, you would defend your own. I understand that, no matter how untrue it is. But that is why you are all cursed. Could there be no greater sin under heaven than to protect the murderer of one of the dearest children who every lived? There is no forgiveness in it.
"I know you are lying about my sister, but I have ways to uncover the truth. You will see me again, and again until this is settled," said Pierre.
He shoved Jonathan aside and made his way back through the crowd. Those that heard him cheering him on for his cruel words.
She suddenly felt defenseless and outnumbered, wishing they had not decided to come here, yet knowing all along she must go where her suspicions lie, even if it presented danger.