The Mystery at Belle Magnolia (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 3) Page 6

"Don't mind, old Charlie, Miss. He's the only one who'll take visitors to the bridge. Most men are afraid to go down there. He's harmless, just a little daft they say, but I like him just fine. He's one of us, you understand. Don't you, Miss?" Elizabeth asked.

  Madeline just smiled, nodding her head in affirmation. Yes, she could understand that people who feel forsaken find comfort with each other. It was not an easy life for those without means; perhaps that was another reason they believed in voodoo. She supposed they had the hope that if they could not control their destiny, maybe an unseen power could.

  Elizabeth informed her earlier that Madame Clarice charged a fee of three dollars per person to attend one of her rituals. There was an additional ten dollar fee if you wanted a private audience. Belle had assured Madeline that any cost involved in her sleuthing she would repay. Even though she would never dream of charging Belle for investigating Wesley's murder, she did accept her offer for reimbursement.

  When old Charlie let them off in a high, grassy area, she could already hear singing and some incantation. Perhaps fifty or more people were milling about dancing, a few engaged in some types of sexual activity. She had not expected that and turned shades of red at the sight of it. Neither Hugh nor she, however, mentioned it.

  Her first glimpse of Madame Clarice came as they stood closer to the large black, rusted caldron she was stirring. Her black hair hung down to her waist in long, twisted curls. Besides her flowing, scarlet gown, the only other thing she wore were several golden beaded necklaces and a band of crimson roses in her hair. Her head was rocking back and forth, uttering some incantation that Madeline could not discern because of the crowd's loud moaning and continued singing. With golden brown skin and fine features, even in this absurd situation, Madame Clarice's youthful beauty was evident. She looked to be in her early thirties, but Elizabeth had told her she thought she was forty-two.

  Elizabeth motioned to a place in the tall grass where they could sit and observe. Hugh took his coat off and laid it down for Madeline to sit upon. She was grateful for this gesture as the ground was damp, and she was certain filled with tiny, moving insects.

  "What is she doing?" asked Madeline.

  "She's mixing the Trinity. You knows what the Trinity is, don't ya'? asked Elizabeth.

  "You mean in Catholicism, The Holy Trinity?" asked Madeline.

  Elizabeth laughed and slapped herself on her knee several times before replying.

  "I guess you were telling the truth all right that you don't know anything about these things. What's in that pot is a black crow, a black rooster, and a snake cut up into three parts. That's how she calls the spirits to us."

  Madeline found herself physically shivering at what she just heard, but Hugh had leaned in and seemed to find it all rather fascinating. He moved closer to Elizabeth and began speaking to her about how many of these events she had attended.

  Madeline was surprised to see this other side of Hugh. She had thought he would be appalled by all of this. Maybe someday she would get to know him on a more personal level, and they could unlock each other's secrets.

  Elizabeth motioned to Madame Clarice as she began to writhe. She pulled a disgusting looking black snake from a basket, perhaps six feet long or so, and wrapped it around her right arm and neck. She yelled out, as if she were in pain, "You've come...even though warned...you've come. I shall look into your eyes, and you shall be blessed or cursed. If you come in truth, you shall be spared. Fate has you in its arms now, and there is no escaping."

  Madame Clarice continued to manipulate the creature, walking dead toward the area where they sat.

  Elizabeth, now seeming to be frightened to death, put the fingers of her left hand into her mouth and started to chew on them like a baby would. Then, shaking her right hand at Madeline, she twisting it around in a peculiar fashion. Her entire arm was trembling as she continued to point it at Madeline as if it were possessed.

  "She means you, Lord help you...she means you," Elizabeth said.

  Madame Clarice stopped short in front of Madeline, leaning over to come up clean into her face. She cringed at Clarice's foul breath and pulled her head back from her strange, crazed-looking black eyes. The whites of Madame Clarice's eyes appeared more red than white, and the totality of the picture was such that she looked as if she belonged in the pages of a penny dreadful magazine.

  Mustering all her core strength, Madeline did not flinch. She did not wish to give the priestess, or the crowd, the satisfaction of knowing the horror she was feeling; it would not do to give over to this madness.

  "You dare be in the presence of those who seek revenge on the damned at Belle Magnolia...those you sleep under the night sky with? Wesley is the first, but there may be others. Do you share his guilt?" Madame Clarice asked.

  "Guilt? He was not guilty. You are...you all are. If any of you had anything to do with his death. He saved an innocent man from the gallows. Are any of you responsible for harming him? Show yourself now, if you are certain, he was guilty. Your must think your gods will protect you!" Madeline said, without thinking, responding to the blood that was boiling in her veins and the revenge she now wished herself.

  "So, you do not fear. We shall see," With these words, Madame Clarice dropped the wild, black snake into her lap.

  Hugh jumped up, reaching for the snake and looking as if he were going to strangle Madame Clarice, but Madeline touched his hand to stop him.

  Grabbing the snake behind its head, Madeline stood, throwing it into the crowd. Some screamed but most started singing, praising her.

  Madame Clarice laughed, and said, "He is my most tame—it is nothing. Still, you have shown some courage. I will accept your ten dollars, and you will have your audience with me."

  "Madame Chatka will continue," she yelled out to the crowd, as she motioned to a half-clothed, raven-haired beauty who leaped as her name was called out.

  It was a seamless move, and Madeline was impressed with Madame Clarice's power over this strange semblance of humanity. Madame Chatka took over the stirring of the pot, and people mingled about, waiting to make their request from her for a favor of some kind.

  Madame Clarice moved as if she had wheels upon her feet. They all plodded through the grass, gingerly placing their feet down, looking for snakes, small animals, and puddles of mud to avoid. But she, she walked as if she were a spirit, blithely moving forward without hesitation or even the slightest crunching of the ground beneath her. It unnerved Madeline perhaps the atmosphere, the murder, and the superstitions of the town folk was starting to affect her.

  She had her arm crooked into Hugh's and; he steadied her as she walked. He had looked at her with a stunned expression when she threw the snake into the crowd. It was nothing she had ever spoken to him about, but when she was younger, she had a neighborhood friend, a fearless young boy, who had all manner of strange pets including rats and snakes. After a long while, her fear of them had ceased—though, her revulsion of them never did.

  They walked until they came upon a small, wooden shed. Its boards were warped, with mud and mold flourishing up its sides, but inside it was rather pleasant. Several planks stacked against the back wall held a myriad of different colored candles. Paintings of saints were displayed on makeshift holders. Some fragrance was in abundance in the air; Madeline thought it might be jasmine. A small round table was in the center of the room. It's top appeared to be black granite, surrounded by six cushioned chairs.

  "Come, sit," said Madame Clarice, "and I will tell you why you are here."

  She motioned for Madeline to sit across from her while Hugh and Elizabeth took the side seats.

  Taking Madeline's hand, she said, "You've come about the man who has brought distress to our voodoo priestess, Marie Laveau. She has summoned me to speak for her. Wesley Randolph committed a sin against mixed race people. It is an intolerable sin to her, as it is to all of us who share this belief."

  Madeline was inclined to pull her hands away in disgust at what Clarice
was saying but knew that it would not achieve her purpose in uncovering any information that might help her find Wesley's murderer.

  "Let us join hands, and I will call upon the spirit world," Madame Clarice continued.

  Elizabeth gripped Madeline's hand as if she were hanging onto someone while drowning, but Madame Clarice grip was that of a small child—she could barely feel her touch. Certainly, one thing was true, Madame Clarice was notably a unique person.

  It seemed the wind had taken its cue from her, because it began to roll through the rickety shed, blowing several of the candles out. She continued undeterred, calling on the spirit world, first in a soft tone, and then increasing the loudness of her voice.

  They all had their eyes closed, but Madeline opened her eyes just enough so that she could partially see what was happening.

  Madame Clarice was rolling her head around, her chest seeming to heave forward with every breath.

  After only a few minutes, she began to speak in a choppy, baritone voice.

  "If you seek my killer, do not look to the spiritual, but the godless. He will be found close at hand, near to me he was. Guy Finaldi...I was wrong...I was wrong."

  When she spoke the last few words, her voice trailed off in a manner, as if the spirit was suddenly called away from the mortal world.

  Clarice then proclaimed, "You have heard...and from the dead man himself. It was Finaldi who was guilty, and now Randolph's soul will never be allowed to rest for his part in it. I have many who confide in me. It was told to me before his death, that a man, someone also involved in the practice of law, sought retribution. His wife has something to do with this. Until you all leave Belle Magnolia, you will continue to be in danger."

  "Is there nothing we can seek from you that will prevent further assault? I have been told there may be something you can do to reverse this curse against the family—perhaps a talisman for personal protection?" Madeline asked.

  "I cannot help you. I am the spiritual guide of those who seek justice against those who reside at Magnolia. The only protection you may have is to leave the city, and soon. The spirits have warned you, at least, you were told."

  Madeline paid her fee, and the witch watched her depart, waving her hand as if to dismiss them. As she left, the rest of the candles blew out, leaving them in darkness.

  Madeline attempted to speak with Elizabeth afterward, but she ran from them, shaking about her shoulders as she did so.

  "What do you make of all that?" asked Hugh, as he helped her wade through the thick brush.

  "I feel she was very purposeful in her actions; it seemed deliberate that she wished us to leave Belle Magnolia. Perhaps she truly does believe in all of this, and it is not just for some theatrical purpose. I cannot understand what her motives would be otherwise. She has no connection to Belle. I cannot see what benefit it would be to her to have us all leave."

  "It would seem she has too much power in this city to be unaware of what the undercurrent of this story is. Perhaps we can follow her."

  "I think that would prove difficult—she has too many tentacles coming from her. Everywhere she walks, she has people surrounding her. Still, I have heard in town that Wesley had an enemy or two at his place of work. We will need to take his belongings back to the house. We can look into that then if you would like to come along."

  "Of course, my lady. Now that I am feeling somewhat better, I want to help in this. Poor Miss Hannah and Belle, they will need all the support and comfort."

  "I will not feel safe, or be able to stop worrying until we find Wesley's murderer. I am certain, with your help and Jonathan's, that we will find the person responsible."

  "When is Jonathan to arrive?"

  "I believe it is tomorrow. He confirmed that his friend, Walter Cahill, will be accompanying him. Apparently, he is a young man new to the newspaper business and is anxious to be involved in a case as it unfolds.

  "I'm afraid that after what Wesley's death, I did not think of it until now. I had told Mrs. Brown but she may also have forgotten. I will confirm their visit for tomorrow," she said.

  "They have no knowledge of what has transpired. I hope it will not deter him from staying. We can use every man available to us to help Belle through this."

  Chapter Seven

  New Arrivals

  In the evening darkness, and in the shadow of Wesley's death, the plantation no longer appeared to be the beautiful fantasy Madeline once perceived it to be. A warm breeze blew through the area, causing the brush and tree limbs to move in such a way that she believed she saw people moving through the misty view.

  "I feel I must be imagining things, but I thought I saw someone moving about near the oak trees," she said.

  "I'm sure our imagination will be casting doubts upon many things now. I will keep first watch tonight. Perhaps your father can relieve me at dawn," Hugh said.

  "I will stay with you. We shall pass the night together, friends in arms. I will speak to Father. He is an early riser, and can take the watch at four o'clock. Soon, we will have the assistance of Jonathan and Walter. But first, I will make us supper—whatever I can find—after I see if Hannah will allow me in to see her."

  That question was answered quickly, as Belle stopped her before she even reached Hannah's room.

  "No, she has asked that no one disturb her. She cries, then stops, then begins again. They have come to take his body. They said they will return it after they have gone through his things, to see if there may be some clues left behind. I hardly doubt it, but they said they must," said Belle.

  "I know. There will be no consoling her for a good, long time. All we can do is stand beside her."

  Madeline took Belle's hands in hers and said, "We will not fail you. Somehow we will find the answers to what happened."

  "This place does not look the same to me now. Its charm is lost on me. They have taken everything from me...everything," Belle said as she closed her eyes for a moment.

  "Will you join us for a brandy or some other refreshment? Hugh and I will stand watch tonight. Come and join us at any time should you not wish to be alone."

  "Perhaps later...I wish to rest now, whatever rest that may be," Belle answered.

  When Madeline entered the kitchen, Father and Mrs. Brown were there.

  "So, you have returned. Thank goodness. I will join you," he said.

  "I knew you would be hungry—despite the misery, the stomach knows it needs nourishment," said Mrs. Brown.

  "You are an angel to stay and make us supper," Madeline said.

  "Oh...it's not much. Some chicken, crab meat, and rice, but it will help your belly heal. Miss Mellie's gone to sleep. She cared very much for Mr. Wesley. He was so kind to her, giving her work when no one would look at her because of her malady. She's got the club foot, and people laugh at her, but not him. He was so kind; it gave her to smiling whenever he was around. The world lost a good man...a good man indeed," said Mrs. Brown.

  "Yes, a man like him will be missed by all who value integrity, honesty, and goodness. My heart is breaking thinking of Mademoiselle Randolph and Mademoiselle Mayfair. They will surely need you more than ever, Mrs. Brown. I do hope you will stay on and not leave us."

  "I will not falter in my devotion to this family. They've been fair to me and mine, and I shall do my best to help."

  Those simple words comforted Madeline, hanging onto any hope that even in darkness, good people held strong.

  "Father, you look so tired of late. Come, sit by me and eat," she said.

  "I suppose we must eat, but I will have to force myself to do it. Not that I am not grateful, Mrs. Brown, and it smells delicious, but this day has taken its toll on me. The pain of Miss Hannah is one I have seen in my own daughter's eyes," he said as he came to Madeline and put his arm around her shoulder.

  Kissing her forehead, he continued, "We must be diligent now to prevent any further incidents. I will stay awake and hold vigil tonight."

  Hugh entered the kitchen, saying, "Mr
. Donovan, you must rest. Madeline and I will take first watch. If you are rested, you can relieve us in the morning. Please, sir, I insist—you do not look well."

  Like all other caretakers, Madeline relied on her father to always be the bulwark who could be leaned against, no matter what the burden. Now she looked again at the sweet man and became startled at how old he suddenly looked to her. She squeezed his hand and said, "Oh, yes, Father, we will manage. This day had done untold damage to all in this house. It will be a long recovery."

  It was almost midnight. When the night flies and mosquitoes got the better of them, they left the expansive veranda and moved indoors. Taking a seat near the window in the drawing room, they had enough moonlight illuminating enabling them to see a good area of the grounds. The windows being such that they were aligned with panorama vision with an incredible height of perhaps twenty feet or so to afford them even further ability to see if anyone was about.

  "There is something about midnight that sometimes brings a chill to me. It is a witching hour, something about the deep, dead of the night that makes me afraid. I have no explanation for it, but it seems, this time of the night has a certain type of ominousness about it. I don't always feel this way, sometimes it is a breathtaking time of day, but today it is sorrowful, " Madeline said.

  "For me, I always thought of it as the most romantic part of the day. Today, however, it is only darkness that I see or feel. Yesterday, Wesley and I were here together, speaking of things about the law and comparing some of our cases. Life can be so terribly fragile. I hope they show their faces. Sometimes, at moments like these, I don't feel like a law abiding solicitor, but an angry, vengeful man."

  Madeline had never heard Hugh speak like that before, but the other incidents of violence they had been privy to together did not purport to be as personal as this. She stood and walked to where he was standing by the window, but said nothing, only watching and waiting for him.

  "Madeline, I am certain I saw some movement. Wait here. I will get the kerosene lamp and go out. I have my gun with me, and I shall not hesitate to use it."