* * * *
All the way home I pondered how I would break the news to Meredith Mae about the woman named Jeanne Elemont and some obvious intrigue that Louis was involved in. I was anxious about telling her, and relieved to find I would not have to confront the issue until morning, for when I arrived home I found a note on our foyer table from Meredith Mae. She had apparently decided to spend the evening at St. Joseph’s and she had taken Rachel with her. She wrote that she would have one of the nuns care for the child while she spent some time alone to think things through and quietly meditate on her own. She told me that I shouldn’t worry, that both she and Rachel would return by eight the following morning.
So, now I would be able to give considerable thought as to the most delicate way to present Louis’s obvious indiscretions, but unfortunately, I was exhausted that evening and could barely remain awake. The walk from Clark Street was at least a half a mile and it had tired me, and though I was grateful for the extra time alone, Malcolm’s poor body reacted with extreme fatigue, and I took to my bed almost immediately.
* * * *
I do not know how long I was asleep before I felt it. I did not open my eyes right away for I had no idea what was happening to me. I only knew it was pleasurable, so pleasurable that opening my eyes was terribly difficult. It actually took several seconds for me to realize that someone was kneeling over Malcolm’s body and was riding his stiff, wretched organ as if they were on a horse. I found myself moaning like a dying animal and through this delirium I could hear another voice moaning with my own, as though we were singing a bizarre duet. I forced my eyes opened and looked over me. The moonlight was softly silhouetting the body of a woman, though I could not see her clearly. Her dark hair fell before her and covered her face. Her legs were long and fit around Malcolm’s bulk with ease. I seemed to be holding the woman up with my hands as she squeezed my palms and began to scream and to laugh at once. I could see the attractive crevice of her breasts and realized they were small and firm. I felt some wild spasms in my body that I could not control, and before I knew it, I felt myself losing touch with everything except this delightful explosion that prevented me from tossing this woman off poor Malcolm’s organ.
I finally lay back and opened my eyes once again. Malcolm’s wretched heart was beating rapidly and I felt his hair, wet with perspiration, against his brow. The woman slowly lifted her head and stared at me with a smile so iniquitous that I shuddered.
“At last, my darling,” she uttered. “We are finally alone.”
I blinked several times and continued to stare at her.
She pointed her finger in my face and began to chatter.
“I am so angry at you, bad boy. You move Meredith Mae into the house so we cannot speak. You barge into Louis’s office where Catherine overhears everything.” Then she leaned in close, so close I felt my heart skip. “Have you lost your mind, mon cher?”
“Good God!” I gasped, as the moonlight revealed her features and her face hovered over me like an incorporeal hallucination. “Ursula!”
“Were you never going to come to me on your own, my bad boy?”
“Well I…” I stuttered. I was still in a state of shock and could barely speak.
I watched as she threw a robe around her and lit the lamp. The low flame flickered in the room and her beauty seemed opaque and almost tangible in the soft obscurity.
“What is this nonsense about your memory, my precious? You spoil our plans very badly. You tell me to befriend Meredith Mae, to keep her preoccupied, and then you move her into your house!”
I stared at her blankly. I quickly realized that if I played along, perhaps I would have my answer concerning William’s murder.
“I suffered a fall, clumsy oaf that I am. I had a memory loss.” I laughed and sat up in the bed to look at her.
She stared long and hard into my eyes. Then I felt her hands on my face. “Foolish man,” she whispered and kissed me. I found myself drawn in again to pleasurable feelings I fought to control. Fortunately, she laughed and sat back.
“Why have you restored the estate to Meredith Mae?” she asked me. “We plan the perfect murder. We devise a brilliant scheme, and you show up at the convent like a mad man and insist that we return the money to her. Are you under a spell, dear Malcolm? Have you been vexed?”
“Well…you see…I had a change of heart. I could not toss the poor girl in the street.”
“I see,” she said. “Now Louis is to marry her and not Catherine? I wish you would have told me what you are up to.”
I was so startled that I hoped my shock had not shown on my face. I composed myself as quickly as possible. “Why not?” I said quickly.
Ursula laughed and shrugged her shoulders. “You are a cold man, Malcolm.”
“Is that my allure?” I smiled.
She turned and looked at me harshly then. “Your allure?” She laughed loudly. “Oh, please. You take a fortune and toss it out the window and you expect me to find that alluring? It is I who am taking the risks here.”
“What risks, Ursula?” I asked, trying to appear nonchalant.
I watched as she went to the top of my burrow and helped herself to a cigar. I looked on in horror as she lit it and sat at the edge of the bed.
“I don’t understand your logic,” she began. “Catherine will expose you. You’re a pedophile, darling. I don’t care what she says about me. No one will believe her, but you? You will be ruined.”
“Well…” I began slowly. “Perhaps, we should devise her death, as we did William’s.”
She smiled again and blew the smoke near me. I had such a desire to light my own cigar at this time that I rose from the bed and did so. I was aware that she continued to smile and to watch me as I puffed. I sat down in the chair opposite her and the two of us sat there smoking and talking about murder as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“And who on earth will we get to kill her?”
She glared at me and I tried not to let my confusion show. Apparently a stranger had not murdered William and my conclusions were, unfortunately, accurate.
“Just a thought.” I smiled.
She sighed and leaned back. With her hair down in the moonlight and her long legs arched upon the bed, the cigar between her lips, she almost looked like a very pretty boy.
I was still staring at her, still mesmerized by this alluring androgyny, when she spoke the words I shall never forget.
“Then you must get Meredith Mae to accept my proposal. She must marry me.”
I stared back at her, unable to speak, unable to understand what she had just said to me. I’m sure my mouth dropped, and I might have even gasped when she said it, but she appeared not to notice and continued.
“You must deal with Catherine, since it is you who has turned our plans upside down. I suggest you send her abroad or see to it that she has a carriage accident, you understand?”
I nodded slowly.
“You have robbed her of the only romance she has ever had or is likely to ever have again. She will destroy you for that if you don’t destroy her first.”
“And you and I?” I whispered softly. “Where are your loyalties, Ursula?”
She laughed loudly and put the cigar out in the tray.
“I am a woman, Malcolm. What will Meredith Mae ultimately want with me? We shall do away with her immediately after the marriage. You will join me in France after the money is transferred to a Bank of England account, and we will live happily ever after, my darling.” She kissed me and looked into my eyes. “I must return home. I have waited hours for you once I saw Meredith Mae leave with the girl. Where were you, my sweet?”
“Well, I had business…I had to dine out…” I began.
“We will not be alone for a while now. I will take Meredith Mae abroad once I have won back her heart.” She looked at me and winked. “That will not be so difficult. I have already insisted she renew her passport.”
I said nothing and she continu
ed.
“The poor girl will have an accident there.”
She laughed and went over to the other side of the room. I watched in utter fascination as she raised the light in the lamp and began to slip her long legs into trousers.
“No? What do you think?” She turned around to look at me. “Or perhaps we will let Catherine murder her in a jealous fit? Catherine is good with murder.”
I stared at her dumbfounded. It slowly began to make sense.
“Yes,” I said. “She certainly killed William without a hitch.”
I watched Ursula. She did not answer me but I knew, finally knew for certain, who had pulled the trigger on my dear friend William. I sat up further in the bed and rubbed my brow.
Poor Catherine, I almost said aloud. I wondered if she had done it for love, or for money, but I would come to realize that she did it for neither. It was hate that drove Catherine. Unfortunately, for her, it was always hate.
I looked over at Ursula as she continued dressing. What evil they were, she and Malcolm, driven not by greed but by emptiness. It is always there, in the emptiness, that the devil charms his prey.
I watched as she took the spirit gum and touched it over her lip. I looked on with astonishment as she pressed on a small mustache and tightened a large bandage across her chest before reaching for her shirt, vest, and jacket. When she had finished dressing, I saw only a hint of the woman who had fondled my face with all the grace of my own mother.
“It is a shame women cannot walk alone at night. This costume is most annoying.”
Dear Lord, how will I ever spare Meredith Mae the embarrassment of this disclosure?
* * * *
So, now I had my answers, answers that I was not sure what to do with, for I could not prove that Catherine had murdered William any more than I could prove the real sex of Louis Boussidan.
I now knew that Ursula and Malcolm had devised a plan to rob Meredith Mae of her fortune, a base and deceptive plan that involved the seduction of Catherine by the spurious Louis in order to use her to murder William Davenport. They must have known that Silas would be an easy target. His solitary gardening on Wednesday afternoons would provide no witness to his whereabouts and, of course, Catherine’s word would be utterly believable.
How perfect. Clearly, Ursula had charmed everyone. She would probably have gotten away with the marriage to Catherine, inherited the rest of the estate, and then disposed of her. Poor Malcolm thought he and Ursula would live happily ever after in France with a fortune in their bank account, except the idiot did not realize he was being used. He would surely wind up in the bottom of the Seine while the executor of the estate met up with her true love, Jeanne Elemont.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I was not at all surprised to see Louis the following afternoon. Meredith Mae and Rachel were reading together in the library when the front door chimed and I saw his unmistakable shadow beyond the lace.
We smiled wickedly at one another and then he peered beyond me.
“May I speak to Meredith Mae?” he asked like a child pleading for candy.
“I’m not sure she will see you, monsieur.”
“Perhaps, if you will inquire…?”
I stepped away from the door and he entered behind me. I was about to call for Meredith Mae when I heard her footsteps approach. She stopped abruptly when she saw that it was Louis.
“Mademoiselle…”
“Sir?” she said with a blush to her face.
“It is Saturday.”
“Yes, it is,” she said.
I looked from one to the other.
“What is so special about Saturday?” I inquired.
“Well, I always take Rachel for a…how do you say it…an outing.”
“You do?” I was surprised, for I never realized he took the child by himself. “Is that so?” I looked at Meredith Mae.
“Yes, Louis always takes Rachel on Saturday afternoons. I shop, and we meet up later. The child would be bored with my shopping. It takes me hours.”
“I see. And where do you take Rachel, Louis?” I asked, trying to be as calm as possible. But it was Meredith Mae that answered me.
“We go into Manhattan,” she said. “It seems Louis has often taken Rachel into the city to play. The child likes the ferry ride.”
At the mention of Manhattan, I turned sharply to Louis. I certainly had my proof of his liaisons with this Elemont woman. He must have taken the child with him when he visited her. Perhaps, I could follow them and validate my suspicions and on the following Saturday I would convince Meredith Mae to accompany me to the woman’s house, and I would be able to prove his infidelity.
“Of course, Louis. I will get the child ready.”
I left the room but did not go immediately upstairs. I stood behind the door to listen. I heard the scoundrel tell Meredith Mae that he had broken off his engagement to Catherine. She remained silent and nothing was said between them for quite some time. I was just about to leave when I heard Louis’s voice.
“Will you meet me this evening on Greenwich Avenue for dinner?”
She must have turned away.
“Please, Meredith Mae, please listen to me. I had no idea I would feel the way I do about you. I was confused, so terribly confused.”
“I am very angry at you, Louis. You should have told me.”
I heard the tears in my granddaughter’s voice.
“Catherine has wanted to announce our engagement publicly, for weeks, but I told her I wasn’t sure of my feelings anymore. She must have known that I was falling in love with you. That’s why she came here.”
“And are you in love with me, Louis?”
Then I heard nothing. I wondered what my Meredith Mae must be thinking. I turned my head to peek in, for I could not help it, and I knew I would not be seen. To my horror, she had walked over to the scoundrel and was kissing him. There she was, with her arms around him, lost in some mindless, endless kiss.
I burst into the room and pretended that I had not seen what I had very clearly seen before me.
“Rachel will be ready shortly,” I blurted out.
They stepped apart, and Meredith Mae turned her back to me, most likely in embarrassment.
“You will meet him later?” I asked her, with an emphasis on the scoundrel’s gender.
Meredith Mae turned uncomfortably and stuttered a bit.
“Yes, yes. We will meet for dinner. Louis will accompany us home. We will be fine,” she said. I noticed that the blush to her face was more pronounced.
Poor dear; I had better act fast.
* * * *
I waited until they left the house and followed not far behind. I watched as Ursula, perfectly disguised as Louis, helped Meredith Mae into the waiting carriage. I noticed that he kissed her hand before lifting Rachel up in front with the driver. I could hear the child giggling, and though I was delighted to see her so happy, I was distressed that this fake had so much influence over her. She still had not warmed to me, and though I understood her reasoning, I resented her fondness for Louis. As I watched them, I could not help but think to myself that they appeared like the picture of convention, as engaging and affectionate as any other American family about to embark on a Saturday afternoon adventure.
Fortunately, I was able to wave a hansom on Flatbush Avenue. I told the driver to take me directly to the piers. I knew there would be only the one o’clock ferry into Manhattan and I wanted to be on it before they arrived, for I feared being noticed if I had to board after them. My driver was talkative, but the horse was brisk and I managed to scurry up the plank just as Louis’s fancy black carriage pulled up to the dock.
I stayed inside the cabin where I was able to observe the playfulness between them on the outer deck. My granddaughter wore a beautiful, wide-brimmed hat that she had to hold with her hand, for the wind on the Hudson was quite lively that afternoon. The scoundrel kept stealing kisses and instead of pushing him off, she laughed and coyly turned her face to the left,
and then back again to smile at him.
How terribly in love they appear. How shameful it all is. I sighed and thanked God that I would soon be able to show this insidious character up for at least partial deceit.
Once the ferry docked I let them depart before me and watched as Louis found a hansom for Meredith Mae and blew her a kiss as she rode off. I noticed with some trepidation that there were not many carriages about, and I wondered what I would do if Louis got into one with the child and rode off. Just as I was completing this thought, that is precisely what they did. I watched in panic as their carriage went north on Whitehall Street at quite a fair clip. I looked about frantically and saw not one empty carriage. Fortunately, I had Jeanne Elemont’s address in my vest pocket and could only hope that that was their destination.
It took at least twenty minutes before I spotted an empty hansom as it turned the corner on State Street and headed right by South Street where I stood in Malcolm’s poor flesh, a sea of perspiration as the August sun unmercifully baked me. I was able to dry myself off a bit once inside the cab and there was a modicum of a breeze when the horse was able to master a full trot, but nothing like the lively air I had just witnessed on the open river.
“Fifty-one Charles Street, Sir,” I finally heard the driver call out. “This is it.”
I stuck my head out the window and looked around. The house was next to an old church. It was wooden in structure and sat on about a quarter acre of land. Up the block there were newer houses that were built with brick. The church was made of stone and was very small. A statue of the Virgin Mary stood on the front lawn. She held the baby Jesus in her arms but she did not look at him. She appeared to be looking inward.
Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem Page 20