‘I remember him changing, Rochelle, the way he was with me, wanting to help me out, asking if I needed anything. He’d stopped drinking by then, grew up a little, I guess. He followed me out to Sugarsookie Creek just before I left. It was real nice, and I always remembered the little talk we had that day. I always remembered it, and how seeing us together like that made Mambo smile, I could see it made her happy.’
‘He followed you another time too. On the night you went to see to business. He wanted to be there in case you needed help.’
‘He saw us?’
‘He was mad as hell. He knew Mambo well enough to realize she was up to something and not telling him, so he followed you. He castrated them, after you left. Took a machete to them.’
‘Lord above. Quince. I had no idea, but the newspaper clippings said the bodies had been mutilated. I thought it was just sensationalizing.’
‘After you left he always used to say he was loving me for both of us, and I liked that. His other girl was gone. Always said he wanted to come to Africa, the old country, to see her. That’s what he told folks.’
‘He would say that?’
Miss Constance felt her eyes sting with tears, her heart leap with emotion.
‘Yes, always said his other girl was teaching too, back in Africa. They thought you’d be coming home. A couple of years at the most is what they thought, otherwise I don’t think they would ever have let you leave. They clung to one another after you left; they found it hard. Later on they wanted to come to Africa to find you, but he got Parkinson’s, you know. He couldn’t have made the journey. Mambo looked after him, then they came to stay with us. Like I said, Neville’s a special kind of man. Put up with them both.’
‘Lord, what a day it is today, Rochelle. You know, if I had done it by myself, I might have kept in touch, but I wasn’t alone. I had a lot of help and by then a lot of people knew what had happened to me, what these two men had done to me. Can you imagine Mrs Archer-Laing giving evidence in court? And poor Eveline Gaudet. She’d been through enough.’
Rochelle opened her handbag again.
‘I have this, Arletta. It’s for you.’ She handed Miss Constance a letter. ‘It’s from Eveline Gaudet. She asked me to find a way of getting it to you. It’s so much better that I’m able to hand it to you.’
‘Do you know her? Did you meet her?’
‘Yes. She tracked us down in Baton Rouge. She’s fine, she survived, and she’s beautiful. Very smart, very high-profile, and a lawyer now, which is why she was able to trace us, I reckon. Everyone in the South knows who Eveline Gaudet is. Although very few will know what you and I do about her. Read it.’
Dear Arletta
I sincerely hope that Rochelle is able to get this letter to you. I have never forgotten you. I have never forgotten how kind you were when you visited me in hospital, or indeed, our mutual friend, Nellie.
Papa spoke to me before he died, and told me he had gone to the train station to see you off. As soon as he heard the bodies were found in the early hours of that morning, he knew. Errol had told him you were leaving for Africa and he put two and two together, and realized why you never came to see us again. Errol did too. I understand he found a way to get some newspaper articles to you. My father went to the station on the day you left to salute you for your courage. I wanted you to know that, and he never spoke of it to me until his dying day. He said that you had the courage to do for him what was burning in his own heart to do.
I always wondered why I never saw you again. The day my father died, I understood. I know you did it for yourself, but you did it also for me, and all the others, wherever they are. You sacrificed your life and your family for us, and I hope you found peace, wherever you went.
I eventually studied law and practised in Montgomery, Alabama, specializing in civil rights and women’s issues, something close to my heart, and which brought me great success, a purpose, and a return to happiness. There are, beyond doubt, extenuating circumstances corresponding to your situation under Louisiana law. Judicial consideration would be given to your then, and present, circumstances, and to public opinion. If you decide to return to the US, I, and my colleagues at Gaudet and Dulac, offer you our services pro bono. Your sister has all my details, so I hope, at the very least, that we can talk on the phone. I know that I will win your case if it is your wish, if, indeed, a case would be brought against you. The mystery remains unsolved; it could continue to be so.
Some years ago, Arletta, in the course of investigating an entirely unrelated matter, I came across the intriguing case of a woman who had been viciously stabbed and left to bleed to death in a cotton field outside of Montgomery in June of 1908. She had been a popular and wonderful singer during her lifetime, about to sign an important phonograph-recording contract at the time of her death. Her killer, whom it took many years to find, was in fact a rival both for the affections of her husband, also her manager, and her popularity as a singer. When the woman was eventually committed to Louisiana State Penitentiary, she admitted to the crime in Montgomery, and in her final hours on Death Row confessed to the priest that she had ‘killed her for a song’. She hoped to launch her own career, but was never successful.
I was able to find a very old first phonograph-recording of the song, and surprisingly, in the archives, an unaccompanied original version by the woman who was killed for it. Arletta, there was no mistaking the voice.
The murdered woman’s name was Nell Maxwell.
I remain at your service,
Eveline Gaudet
Miss Constance felt the comfort of her sister’s arm around her shoulder. She lifted her eyes to the distant hills and remembered.
‘Come, Arletta. Let’s go inside.’
‘Did Eveline Gaudet tell you what’s in this letter, Rochelle?’
‘Yes Arletta, she told me.’
‘I’m glad she did so well. Let’s sit here for a while. I want to hold my sister’s hand.’
Afterword
At the turn of the twentieth century, much of America’s Deep South remained undeveloped frontier where the extensive programme of deforestation, road, rail and levee construction had yet to begin. Lynching continued to be most prevalent in these Southern states, with the associated mob-rule vigilantism and racism reaching its peak from around 1890 into the early years of the twentieth century, although instances were still being recorded even into the 1960s.
Justification for this form of what has been called ‘frontier justice’ was the eradication of those considered ‘undesirable’ in the community and the preserving of social order, for the most part the privilege associated with the dominant white class. Lynching could result for as little as a charge of acting suspiciously, or unwittingly having your identity mistaken. Black men were often falsely accused of theft or rape, or of displaying improper behaviour towards a white person or even using inflammatory language, often nothing other than a black man defending himself against a false accusation. Running a bordello and voodooism would both have resulted in lynching.
In the context of the time, Arletta and Mambo are unusual in that they are African American women lynching white men. There were numerous white lynchings for theft, criminal behaviour, even political purpose, but in the nineteenth century many were lynched for being sympathizers of the abolitionists.
Prior to any state or federal regulation, fiercely resisted in the South, lynching was condoned by the perpetrators as the process of law. It wasn’t until 2005 that a formal apology from the US Senate was given to Louisiana for its repeated failure in the early twentieth century to pass anti-lynching legislation. During that time African Americans suffered the highest rate of lynching in the South.
Acknowledgements
I would like to acknowledge the many people who offered their invaluable support and advice, from writing to publication, of this book. First of all I am grateful to my agent, Julian Friedmann, of Blake Friedmann Literary Agency, Lisa Vanterpool for her observations and also Tom
Witcomb. I am in gratitude to Juliet Mabey, Fiona Slater, James Magniac, Ruth Deary, Lamorna Elmer and everyone at Oneworld Publications for their patience and guidance. Thanks also to my editor Jenny Parrot for her wisdom and advice, which I’m glad I took, and to Kate Quarry for going through the manuscript so diligently. They are all a pleasure to know and to work with.
Most of all I’d like to thank my son Damron and my daughter Genevieve for their incredible love and support on the journey, without them nothing would have been possible. Finally, thanks to my sister, Margaret S, and my two brothers, Coilie and Henry, for having endless and immeasurable faith in me.
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