Catherine's Cross (42 page)
“Now, tell me how things went in the Virgin Islands. I hope you found helpful information.”
Seth took a sip of coffee and told the Walkers details of their findings.
After breakfast, Jenks read the
Beaufort Gazette
and noticed an article concerning an upcoming exhibit in Columbia featuring artwork from Hudson River School artists. She thought of the portrait of Iris Elliott that hung in the Gibbes Museum in Charleston. Her portrait had been painted by Daniel Huntington, who was known for his contributions to the Hudson River School movement.
Seth was preparing to leave with Dr. Walker for law school, so Jenks quickly showed him the notice concerning the art exhibit.
“I'd like to go to this show in Columbia. Would you go with me this weekend?”
He looked at the article and gave it a quick read. “As long as you drive.” And then with a brief kiss to her lips, he headed out the door.
CHAPTER 16
The Course of Empire
T
he Columbia Museum of Art was in a modern building on Main Street with walls of glass that permitted sunlight to fill the vestibule. As they approached the front desk, a young woman acknowledged them.
“Are you here for the Hudson River School Exhibition?” she asked Seth. Jenks cleared her throat and the young woman looked in her direction.
“Yes, we are.”
“That will be twelve dollars each.”
Jenks paid the price of admission, and they walked to a gallery within the building that displayed the exhibit. Numerous paintings filled the walls of the rooms, and Jenks walked from canvas to canvas studying the artwork.
There was an antique sofa with intricately designed woodwork around the edges in the center of the first exhibit room. Seth took a seat on the couch and stretched out his leg.
Walking back to him, Jenks quietly asked, “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I'm going to admire the paintings from a distance. You go right ahead and look. Take your time.”
Jenks's eyes were drawn to a large placard that described the Hudson River School philosophy:
Nature was the image of the Creation and God was to be found within it. Painting the land expressed hope for the future in America where natural wonders were plentiful.
She roamed from one exhibit room to another admiring the beauty of the artwork. Finally, at the last room, Jenks came to Thomas Cole's
The Course of Empire
. This was a series of five paintings that depicted the transformation of a wilderness area into a state of glory and then, due to human intervention, into a wasteland. The first painting showed a magnificent view of the wilderness landscape while the second depicted the same location, but in a pastoral state: man and nature in harmony. The third painting illustrated civilization in a golden period, followed by a fourth: the violent destruction of the magnificent city at the hands of an unknown enemy. Lastly, the once-majestic empire had been returned to a savage state, butâwithout humanity.
Chills ran though her body as she viewed the paintings in sequence. Returning to the front exhibit room, she walked up behind Seth and placed her hands on his shoulders. “I want to show you something. Please come with me.”
Jenks extended her right hand. Seth took it, and as he stood he pulled her against him and kissed her on the forehead. “You smell like honey,” he whispered.
Jenks noticed that a couple was looking in their direction, and she took his hand in hers. “This way,” she said. He used his cane to steady himself as he shuffled to the Cole exhibit.
Once in the room, Seth went to each painting and read the placard describing the symbolism in each work of art. The most disturbing of the portraits depicted the empire under attack; the citizens being murdered by an unidentified adversary. “It says on the placard that Cole was comparing the rise and fall of the Roman Empire to the rise of America. He questions if time is running out for civilization.”
She thought back to what Rory had said about Sarah Humphries and her rape by her own comrades.
“Sethâdo you remember what Rory said about what happened to Sarah Humphries?”
He sighed and squeezed her hand. “Yes, he said, âwe're our own worst enemies.'”
“We need to be looking out for one another rather than preying on one another for the purposes of exploitation,” she said softly. She thought of Gigi. Frank Hiller had attacked and murdered her sister for an ornament of gold.
All-consuming greed is a horrible vice.
Seth stood at her side and put his arm around her. The last placard she read detailed how Thomas Cole opened the exhibit of
The Course of Empire
in 1834. He advertised the exhibit in a newspaper using a portion of a poem written by Lord George Byron:
There is the moral of all human tales;
'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past.
First freedom and then Gloryâwhen that fails,
Wealth, vice, corruptionâbarbarism at last.
And History, with all her volumes vast,
Hath but
one
page . . .
â“Hath but one page' means there is only one story for all civilizations: the rise and fall,” Jenks said as she read from the brochure on the exhibition.
She felt coldness descend upon her:
Our destruction comes from within: We're our own worst enemies.
Jenks thought of the inner torment that Rory had experienced. He had felt that when Americans prey on each other we're heading for our own demise. She then thought of Frank Hiller. His misplaced greed had led him to murder Gigi.
Barbarism at last
. She whispered, “One page . . .”
She looked into Seth's eyes and hugged him closely to her.
D
r. Walker prepared a feast of turkey and dressing for Thanksgiving. The day was cool without a cloud in the sky. He led the prayer over the meal, giving thanks for the beautiful blue sky and the heavens. “We're only stewards of this landâhere to take care of His creation while we're on this earth.” He thanked God for Seth's and Jenks's recovery. Before he finished, he asked God to continue to watch over Seth and Jenks. Jenks knew that he was concerned about her consuming desire to bring Frank Hiller to justice.
Seth's final examinations were coming up, so instead of watching the traditional game of football after the meal, Jenks and Seth went into his room and pored over his studies. Seth was having almost no trouble recollecting the material, and after several hours of study they took a break.
“How would you like to take a walk?” he asked.
“Do you feel strong enough?”
“Yes, ma'am, I thought we'd walk to the hunt club. It's such a beautiful day.”
As they left the Walker's house, Jenks noticed that Seth was not using his cane. He walked without a limp. The autumn air was cool and a light breeze blew falling leaves across the sandy lane. Seth held her hand during the walk and occasionally pulled her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. They spoke of his law school exams until they reached the Rabbit Hash Hunt Club.
Seth motioned for her to sit down on one of the picnic tables. As she sat down, the wind caught her hair and blew it around her face. Seth pushed it back and, pulling her close, kissed her repeatedly on her face. “Miss Ellington, you are beautiful.”
“Thank you, Detective Mason.”
Her mind flashed back to the last time she had sat at one of the hunt club's picnic tables. Rory had been with them then.
“What are you thinking about?” he gently asked.
“Rory.”
“Me too.”
They both looked into each other's eyes and Jenks rested her head against Seth's shoulder. “I miss him,” Seth slowly said.
“I do as well.”
He took Rory's gold watch out of his vest pocket and looked at itâhis expression unreadable.
They were both silent for a few moments and then Jenks brought up Frank Hiller. “We haven't heard any news from the FBI legal attaché in San Salvador.”
“Captain Barrett said they are in regular contact with the police in Belize City. This is just going to take some time.”
Jenks picked up a stick and drew a face in the sand. “I want Captain Barrett to find out the names of private investigators in Belize. What we need is a break. This could drag on for ages.”
“Patience, my dear.”
“I'm trying. I just can't stand the thought that he's free and my sister . . .”
“I know, baby.”
The sun was getting low in the western sky and Seth stood up from the picnic table. He pointed up to the sky. “Lookâthe moon's already up. Let's start back home.”
“I have something I want to tell you.”
“What's that?”
“I've made a decision about Gigi's house.”
“Go on.”
“When the listing expires at the end of the year, I'm going to take it off the market. Eventually, we're going to need a place to live. I thought we could stay there for a whileâjust until you finish law school.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I have many memories, both good and bad, associated with Gigi's house, and I'd like for us to have a home that we choose together. I don't think we have to rush it.”
“I believe you have a good idea.”
“I intend to reimburse Agnes for her expenses. I know she's tried hard.”
“Good girl,” he said kissing her on the lips.
On the way back to the Walker's, Jenks noticed that Seth had started to have a slight limp with his right leg, but he did not complain.
On Seth's last day of exams, Jenks drove him to Charleston. She spent the morning Christmas shopping on King Street, but had an irresistible urge to visit the Gibbes Museum and revisit the portrait of Iris Elliott.
Once inside the museum, she went to the second floor, to the display on the Civil War era. Jenks's eyes locked onto those of Iris Elliott as she stood in front of her portrait. She admired her lovely features: rosy cheeks, golden hair, and swan neck with the gold cross around it.
“You had no idea what you were in for, did you, Iris?” Jenks said softly.
She imagined the severe changes that had abruptly altered Iris's life after the painting of her portrait: the tragic effects of the Civil War, her home being looted by Union soldiers, the death of her two brothers in battle, and then her own tragic death in childbirth. “You are so lovely and look so innocent,” Jenks spoke softly, out loud, to the portrait. “It's good that you didn't know. You wouldn't look so content.” She spent a few more moments studying Iris's delicate features before speaking again. “You came to know sacrifice and loss, but I wish your jeweled cross had never been found. Ohâhow things would be different,” she said as tears welled in her eyes.
Leaving the museum, she walked back to the Charleston Law School. Seth came out of the building after his last exam and wrapped his arms around Jenks. “Have you been waiting very long?”
“No, sir, I just arrived. How did it go?”
“I think everything went well. I feel good about all the exams.”
“Wonderfulâlunch is on me!”
They walked several blocks to a diminutive café, Jestine's Kitchen, where they waited in line for a table. “I hear this is a great place to eat.”
Jenks was feeling melancholy from visiting Iris Elliott and from thinking of Gigi. She stared at the ground and was quiet.
“Is there something wrong?” Seth asked as he lifted her chin up to look into her eyes.
“I went to the Gibbes Museum and had a conversation with Iris Elliott.”
A slight smile came to Seth's face, and he responded, “Did she have anything to say?”
“Oh Sethâdon't tease me!”
He bent down and kissed her on the lips. “What are you thinking about?”
“Gigi. I want you to ask Captain Barrett to get a recommendation from the FBI legal attaché in San Salvador or the Belize police for a private investigator who can search for Frank Hiller. I intend to find him,” she declared with determination.
