A Masquerade of Saints (Saints Mystery Series Book 3)

by Nicole Loughan

  The next morning I left my cozy spot hidden amongst the trees and headed to the city. I stopped at a Wal-Mart and prepared an explanation for my attire, but nobody asked about it. I walked in, bought a t-shirt and jeans and took a mini bath in the bathroom sink. After I was clean and presentable I drove to the university. Once there, I headed straight to the music hall auditorium, where I had seen the costumes days before.

  I stood outside the doors looking at the layout of the stage and where the costumes were. I was watching the students walk back and forth, picking up costumes, cleaning instruments or chatting in groups. I was trying to decide how I could steal a costume and sneak onto a float. The robes were covered in white and silver sequins, with oversized sleeves that looked like feathers. The feather collars on the girl’s costumes were almost three feet high and the masks were dainty. It would be almost impossible to steal one. But the long nosed bird masks for the men were more compact and easier to grab. I thought if I took one of those and a robe and ran up to the float at the last minute nobody would notice. I looked for an unattended suit and saw one on the far left of the stage. I was about to walk into the auditorium to get it when the doors burst opened and John walked out.

  “Hey, Fanchon,” he said. “Maybe you can help us out. Can you play the cymbals by any chance?”

  “I sure can,” I said.

  I had never played the cymbals in my life, but after reading through the music I found it was just a matter of timing. I spent the afternoon going through the routine with John until I was sure I could fudge my way through it.

  I stayed with John and the other guys from the quartet as we got ready. The five of us talked together as if we’d known each other all of our lives. I helped them pin their costumes together, and it took two of them to put on my feathered collar. I had a delicate sequined mask that I put over my face with just a hint of a bird beak. We laughed when we got in costume and pretended to peck and for a moment I thought all I had to do that night was ride a float and play some music with a fun group of guys. I kept it in my mind that I had another agenda. I tucked the calendar under my robe just before the stair truck came around for us to board the float.

  It was a shining green alligator with its mouth filled with beads. I took my place at the front with the percussion section.

  We rode through town, throwing beads between songs. I enjoyed the freedom to dance during a performance, a luxury I never had with a piano. The main concern I had as we got closer to the Superdome was how I was going to jump off the float and run into the crowd to find Marlene. I had a three foot feathered collar surrounding my head. The other problem I had was that there were no steps to get off of the alligator. The tail seemed like the best way to escape, if I could slide down it.

  We rode into the Superdome through an enclosure just big enough for the float and us. We could have reached up and touched the beams overhead. The guards at the gate closed in around each float, making sure to keep unwanted people out. The field, normally meant for football, was covered with flooring outside of the float path and was filled to the edges with people. Overhead yards of purple, gold and green fabric were draped across the dome.

  I was gathering my courage to leap off the alligator when John came back to me.

  “You want to grab a drink with me after the parade?” he asked. “I know a place that serves good Mexican just a few blocks off. Best margaritas in town.”

  I pretended I didn’t hear him and continued my task of scanning the busy crowd, looking for a familiar face. We were at the midway point of the enclosed stadium and surrounded by onlookers when I finally saw somebody I knew: Mr. Baxter.

  “So, are you in?” John yelled moving closer to me. “It could be like a group thing or not?”

  I was getting antsy and looking around him for how to make my escape.

  “Well?” he said.

  I finally stopped to look at him. “I’m sorry. I have to do something right now. I pulled the collar off, threw my cymbals in his direction, lifted my robe and climbed over the edge of the float. The polyester gown was far more slippery than I had anticipated and I almost slid off the side. The crowd gasped as I dangled 15 feet above the ground. I would have fallen if John hadn’t reached out to catch my arm.

  “Hold on,” he said and he pulled me towards the side of the alligator. He held his other hand down for me to take it. The angle he held me at was a better one to slide down. If he bent down I wouldn’t fall too far.

  “Let me down,” I said.

  “No, you could break your leg!” he shouted.

  My collar was sticking out near his legs. I shouted, “Use the collar to lower me down.”

  He picked up the collar and held it out to me. Once I had a grip on it. I let go of his hand, and he used it to slide me down. I landed softly on the ground of the Superdome. I threw the collar back up to the float and turned to the crowd. I hopped yellow barriers meant to keep onlookers away from the floats and once I was on the other side tried my best to act natural. The floor length white sequined polyester robe looked enough like a gown that nobody noticed me once I was past the barrier.

  I left my mask on as I ran back towards Mr. Baxter. I made my way to where I had seen him, but he was already gone. Near me a man with an earpiece reached up, touched it then scanned the room. I made sure to duck when he looked in my direction, and then turned and walked the other way.

  I walked only a few feet when I heard him yell, “Hey, you in the white. Stop!”

  I picked up the hem of my robe and took off running. I jumped into a clustered group of people and found them admiring an ice sculpture; I slid under the table skirting and stayed there for a moment until I was sure I was in the clear. I went out the other side of the table and found myself on the dance floor in a sea of tuxedos, ball gowns and masquerade masks. The guard found me, our eyes locked and he started running for me. I ran off the dance floor and back in the direction where I had seen Mr. Baxter. I ran with all that I had until I finally saw a woman with a delicate frame wearing a long silver gown and a netted silver mask. I could tell from the way she moved that she was Marlene.

  I ran to her and looked around for the police.

  “Banyan,” I yelled. But I didn’t see him. The only person near her was a masked man who looked too tall to be Mr. Baxter and too short to be Banyan.

  She smiled at me. I could see her smirk through her mask; the one Mrs. Hadley talked about. Before I reached her the guard who had been chasing me caught up and grabbed my arms, pulling them behind my back.

  Marlene sauntered over to me while I fought to get away from him. She moved in a way she never had before. She looked strong and graceful.

  “You don’t appear to be an invited guest,” she said.

  “Bullshit,” I replied. “You invited me.”

  She smiled and leaned in close to me and whispered, “I think it’s time for you to go back to your own people.”

  “Banyan,” I yelled looking around.

  “Sorry, sweetie. It looks like your friend let you down.”

  She looked at the guard holding me and said, “The state police are looking for this one. She is considered extremely dangerous.”

  “I know you tried to kill me, Marlene, and I know why.”

  She laughed and turned around.

  “I have proof that you killed George and Jason Stepwald, too,” I said.

  She turned to me and let the smirk spread across her face. “I don’t see any proof.”

  I turned to the head of the room and said, “It’s about to walk out on stage.”

  In that moment the music stopped and the D.J. announced that the students from the Tulane Concert band would be playing “When the Saints Go Marching In,” under the direction of Maestro Felix Kueper.”

  I watched Marlene’s face drop. Then she stammered, “One man’s word against another’s, Fanchon.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. You probably don’t know this. When Jason Stepwald was murdered, he scratched the arm of
the person so bad bits of their flesh were found under his fingernails. Whoever that person is would be tied directly to the murder of Jason Stepwald, and that person also left a calendar in Curly’s garage with your name in it.”

  She grabbed her chest and said to the man next to her, “We need to get out of here.”

  The guard behind me tried to steer me away from Marlene, and when I pushed back he held me at the wrist and fumbled for a set of handcuffs. I took the opportunity to slide out of my robe and ran back onto the dance floor.

  Another suited man with an earpiece saw me and pushed a couple dressed in matching blue outfits to the ground. I moved with the dancers, keeping them between the suited men and me until I made a break for the stage. When I got there I tried to reach up to it, but it was too high. The security team was closing in on me when a hand came over the side of the stage and without knowing who it was I grabbed it. When I got to the top, I found John on the other end.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I shouted breathlessly. “But, I have to do something that is probably going to embarrass the hell out of you. If you can take it, I will take a rain check on that margarita.”

  Without explanation I got up and walked towards the Maestro. He saw me, threw down his baton and jumped off of his pedestal. Most of the students stopped playing and the few still trying had gotten disjointed.

  I followed the Maestro to the edge of the stage by the D.J. table and blocked him in. I stood between him and the stairs and reached forward to take the microphone from the D.J.

  I saw Banyan and Lt. Portvliet nearing the steps and shouted into the microphone. “This man has scratches on his arm from killing a man named Jason Stepwald three days ago.” The Maestro tried to run past me, but I grabbed his jacket. I managed to get it off, but his shirtsleeve was buttoned up tight with a cufflink. I nearly had it undone when he reached forward and slapped me across the face. I held my hand to my cheek, and he took the chance to run past me. I turned, gripped the microphone tightly and whacked him in the arm as hard as I could with it. He screamed and fell to the ground. Blood seeped through his shirt in four arched lines.

  I held the microphone to my lips again and said, “Before that he poisoned my niece and nephew for my sister, Marlene Baxter. She’s over there,” I pointed to her heading for the door.

  Lt. Portvliet was watching me, and Banyan had his head down and his hand covering his eyes, looking embarrassed. Lt. Portvliet grabbed the Maestro when he reached the bottom step and pointed angrily at me and gestured for me to come down.

  “Where have you been?” I shouted. She reached for me and took the microphone out of my hand, and then tossed it back up to the shocked D.J.

  “We were here to help,” Banyan said. “We didn’t know you were going to go crazy and jump on stage. Jesus, Fanchon. Can’t you do anything quietly?”

  “You were supposed to stay by Marlene,” I shouted.

  “We have two officers on her. They’ll bring her over.”

  “Well, if you would have been by her I wouldn’t have had to jump on the stage to prove my innocence,” I said stepping closer to him.

  Lt. Portvliet stepped between the two of us and said, “Fanchon, we were by her, but then we saw this guy. We had seen him on the hospital security footage, and we wanted to make sure he didn’t get away.”

  Banyan pointed to the crowd and said, “Marlene’s coming now.”

  She was walking in our direction looking frail and scared. Two large men with earpieces in were flanking her sides. Edward was walking behind her. His eyes were red and his hair was disheveled. He looked like a broken man being held together by a tuxedo. The masked man who had been standing at her side was also walking with Mr. Baxter. The police positioned her before us, and she clutched her side as if in great pain.

  Banyan ignored her complaints and said, “How did you know this was the guy who killed Stepwald?”

  I pulled out the calendar and passed it to him. “This is the book I found at Curly’s house that I was telling you about. When I compared the appointments in the book to the appointments on the quartet flyer the dates matched perfectly. Look. He met with Marlene before he poisoned Elaine and George.”

  I handed the book to Banyan.

  I still didn’t have solid proof that Marlene had hired him, and I wondered how I would know when I had enough proof to get my will.

  “That was a meeting to set up his performance,” Marlene said clutching her heart. “How could you think I would poison my own children? Why would any mother do such a thing?”

  Mr. Baxter stepped forward. “I know why you did it, Marlene. You needed Fanchon’s kidney.”

  He turned is attention to Banyan. “She wanted a kidney and Fanchon in jail so she wouldn’t be able to get to her half of the inheritance. I am done with Marlene and her games. I would have left her years ago, but I stayed with her to keep my children safe.”

  He turned his attention to me. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you everything that first night, Fanchon. I was afraid of what she would do to you. That’s why I took your DNA so quickly. I knew I had to act fast to prove that you were her sister, not her daughter. I thought I was a step ahead of her. I didn’t know Marlene had already taken steps to frame you and poison our children. She only told us about Fanchon the night before. I had no idea she was going to move that fast. When George died, I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t go to the police until I was sure Elaine was safe. As soon as I had Elaine tucked away I told the police everything.”

  Banyan nodded and said, “He told us yesterday, but you wouldn’t let me tell you.”

  Marlene looked like she was ready to faint and refused to give up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Edward. Helene was never supposed to get any money. There is absolutely no reason for me to want Fanchon out of the picture. I love her. I would gladly give her anything she wanted.”

  The masked man stepped forward and lifted the mask from his face. It was Mr. Hadley. He passed me a piece of paper and said, “You’ve earned this.”

  I opened up the will and showed it to the detectives and passed it front of Marlene just long enough for her to know what it was.

  Marlene tried to keep up the act. “I just lost my baby. I would never have denied you your inheritance had I known,” she pleaded. “And I don’t know why that man would poison my children,” she pointed at the Maestro.

  The Maestro let loose with a string of what sounded like German curse words and the two of them were taken away.

  Lt. Portvliet looked at me and said, “You know, there’s not enough to tie her to any of this. She’s probably going to get away with it.”

  Mr. Baxter said, “She won’t. You have to talk to our gardener, Curly. I told him to get out of town. Before he left, Marlene asked him to order a special sort of poison for her. He said it was illegal, but he knew some people who still carried it. He procured it for her, but when he tried to use it at the house he didn’t see any infestation. She asked him if she could buy it to keep around the house, and he told her she couldn’t. She was angry with him and tried to fire him. He came to me and told me what had happened. I asked him to record all of their conversations from that day on. He has several tapes of her asking about the poison and how it worked. She told him that if he didn’t give it to her she would find it herself. She seemed to be getting antsy about it recently, and I feared for his safety. I asked him to leave town and to take the recordings and all of the documents from his transactions with Marlene with him. He is on his way back now.

  Freedom

  By the Fourth of July my life had completely changed. I moved out of the shotgun rental I shared with the boys, and Beau took my place. He took up work with them on the roofing crew after he lost his job at the Parish Station. I moved into a condo north of the Mississippi with Elaine.

  She and I laugh about how much we loathed each other when we first met. We realized it was because we were too alike, both stubborn showof
fs. We were raised by mothers who didn’t care about us and fathers who tried and failed to protect us. We led almost the same life under different circumstances. Other than our bullheadedness we shared a love of music and water. Every morning we drank coffee on our balcony and propped our bare feet up on the railing watching the water of the Mississippi pass us by.

  Elaine and I split our family fortune down the center, each of us the only remaining heir of our parents. I had more money than I would ever need in a lifetime. I made sure to share my good fortune. I gave Abolina and Clem everything Josephine and I saved plus some, including Rivet and Paulina’s property. There was one condition; the house had to be knocked down. I never actually had a buyer for it. I learned my appointment was set up by Marlene’s attorney just to get me out to the bayou. Abolina gave me back most of the money I gave her saying, “People get idle hands when they get too much and don’t have work to do.”

  She was right. She was always warning me not to let my hands get idle, “lest they turn into the devils playthings.”

  I had learned to listen to Abolina and Clem. Clem had taught me to be skeptical and Abolina taught me to be strong. On Abolina’s advice I continued to work for the church without taking a salary. In time I won over the choir matron, Donna. At least one Sunday a month I would look out at the congregation and find the whole Chabert family beaming back at me as if I was their own.

  Finally, things felt right. I was where I was meant to be, in New Orleans.

  On the Fourth of July Beau drove John, Elaine and me down to the bayou to celebrate. When we arrived my friends were waiting for us, everybody from J.B. and his wife, to Claudia and Isobel, even Jori and his mom came down.