NOLA (22 page)

Ernie, now appearing as Jackie Kennedy in her blue traveling costume, stepped into the chest, and Mia lowered the lid.  She reached into her pocket and produced a rosary.  She wound the beads around the lock and secured the clasp with the silver cross.

Mia started to return the barbecue equipment but was waylaid by the butler.  “I’ll take care of this, miss.”

Mia returned to the chest and sat down.  Father Peter sat down next to her.  She called George to come and get her, mentioning that she had a large trunk to deliver to Bourbon Street.

“Would you have really set the trunk on fire and burnt the clothes?”

“Yes.  The threat was real,” Mia said evenly.  “In the nightclub, what he does is entertainment; in there with all those insecure women, it’s ridicule.  I’ll not stand for anyone deliberately hurting anyone’s feelings.”

“Mia, you’ve got some baggage, but in this instance, it has made you a better person.”

“As it has you, Father,” Mia countered.

“I’d hug you, but it would be so misunderstood.”

Mia laughed.  “I hear you.”

A series of backfires preceded a dented but clean wreck of a pickup truck.  George, still dressed in his chauffeur’s uniform, waved from the end of the drive.  He opened the tailgate before walking up the drive.

“I take it this is the trunk,” he said to Mia and nodded to the butler that stood at attention by the garage door.  “What’s up?”  The butler ignored him.  “Cold.”

Mia followed George and Father Peter as they carried the chest down the drive.  She looked back and waved at the butler who nodded his head before leaving his post.

“Bourbon Street, huh, any particular address?” George asked.

“Lucky Pierre’s,” Mia said.

George did a double take.

“Don’t worry, we’re going with you. I won’t let any of the ladies pick on you,” Mia promised.

“Don’t you be telling my grandmother either,” George said.

“You have my word,” Mia said.

“Okay, then hop in.  They’ll close off the street soon,” he said.

Mia accepted Father Peter’s assistance into the truck before getting in himself.  He fussed a bit at his neck and pulled out his white collar.  “I don’t want to alarm the entertainers,” he explained.

They arrived at Lucky Pierre’s just as the barriers were being unloaded to block off the street to vehicle traffic.  George promised the officer that they were just making a delivery, and he would not be parking.

After he unloaded the trunk to the sidewalk, George jumped back in the truck, intending to hold his own until Mia returned.

“Go on home, and take the night off,” Mia instructed.  “The father and I will find our way to our destination, and tonight, I will be in the capable hands of Candy Kane, so I’ll not be needing you.”

“Still, you call me if you get into trouble, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” Mia said and waved him off.  She looked over at the priest and then at the street that was filling up with revelers.  “No time like the present,” she said.

They hefted the trunk through the alley and banged on the side door.  It was opened by a burly looking man.

“Delivery of vintage costumes,” Mia said.

He stood back and let them in.  “Back there, first door on your right,” he instructed.

The interior was a bit dim, but Mia was able to make out their destination.  “Follow me, Fa…  Peter,” she edited, just in case anyone was listening.

The room they were directed to turned out to be a dressing room.  Mia knocked on the door hard, announcing, “Female on premises!” before walking in.

The entertainers were in the process of organizing their costumes for the evening’s performance.

“What’s this?” a beautiful, hairless, black young man asked.

“Vintage costumes, a donation from the Garden District,” Mia answered.

“Put it over there. I’m sure most of it will be too small, but we’ll have a look-see anyway.”

Mia and Father Peter did as instructed.  Mia unwound the rosary and lifted the lid.

“Oh my word!” the young man exclaimed.  “These are Miss Georgia Peach’s things.  Wherever did you find them?  Sidney, come over here!”

A half-dressed redhead lumbered over.  “That’s not…”

“It is.”

“But that crook Marley…”

“He did, but they’re back.”

Mia, puzzled by the shorthanded conversation, said, “I’m confused.”

“Oh, sweetie, you see, these costumes were stolen by Marley Dickbrain,” the redhead explained.

“Dickbrain?” Mia asked, trying to hide her amusement.

“Actually, it’s Marley Rickrain, but he’s really a dickbrain if you get my drift.”  The redhead winked. “Anyhoo, he raided Ernie’s lodgings just after the EMTs took him away.  Right out from under the nose of that bitch Ernie rented from.”

“Those costumes were willed to us,” the young man declared.

“Well, they’re back now,” Father Peter said.

The redhead looked at him and gasped, “Oh my lord, it’s Father Peter.  Sidney Appleton…”

“Mr. Appleton,” Father Peter realized.  “I didn’t recognize you.”

Sidney smiled.  “Of course not.  Tonight, I’m Miss Lucille Ball.”

Mia looked the redhead over and nodded.  “I didn’t realize Lucy was such a beautiful woman.”

“Sweetie, you have to see her in her early pictures,
Follow the Fleet, Chatterbox
.  She was a femme fatale before a comic.”

“I’ll see if I can find them,” Mia said.  “Father, we better get going.  I don’t want Honor to get worried.”

“Yes.  Before we go, we should tell you that Miss Georgia Peach is likely to show up.”

“Oh, we’re counting on that!” the young man squealed.

Mia and Father Peter excused themselves and walked quickly out of the building.  Once outside, they contemplated their options.

“What time are we supposed to meet the others?”

“Two hours from now.”

“Are you hungry? Because I could go for some jambalaya.  Cid makes it, but I’d like a taste of the real thing,” Mia confessed.

“I’ve got just the place.  It’s kind of a dive.”

“Well, as long as you refrain from starting any brawls, I think I’d like to go there.”

Father Peter roared with laughter.  “No promises, Mia, no promises.”

~

“The children died forty-two years ago.  Their mother and father are still alive, and they have three siblings.  I hesitate to contact the family. Somehow, I think it will bring them more pain than it’s worth,” Audrey said.

“Grandma Jean will let the mother know where the children are when the mother passes,” Murphy said.

“Stephen says that he feels confident that the grandmother will let the mother know where she can find her children,” Sabine told the group.

“The teens, now that was a challenge,” Audrey admitted.  “I couldn’t find a reference to a death by misadventure anywhere near the library.  And then I got to thinking.  I looked into the programs the library participated in, in the sixties, and found that they had a bookmobile of sorts that traveled to convalescent homes and to the juvenile detention facility.  The convalescent homes in the area were for the aging, so I didn’t have to look further.  The juvenile detention facility would not cooperate with me at all.  I don’t fault them; they have to protect the privacy of the inmates because they were children when they were incarcerated.  Mia always said to make sure to look outside the box, but in this case, I looked in.  I figured that if two teens had somehow perished in the detention facility, they had to be removed by an undertaker.  So I started with the local establishments and moved outward until I got a bite.  According to a son of Sims and Sons, they were called out to collect two boys, ages eleven and thirteen, who had died accidentally on the property.  Evidently, the two young men were building a generator of sorts in the lab when they were electrocuted.”

“But what is the tie-in with the library?” Cid asked, spellbound by Audrey’s tale.

“They were following the directions from an article in a
Popular Mechanics
magazine.  This magazine, I bet was returned with the other books to the library.”

“Boys’ names?” Burt asked.

“Oh, sorry.  Tim Trebuchet and Gary Smith.”

“How sure are you?” Mike asked Audrey.

“Very sure, but I’d like to ask them just the same.”

“I agree.  Now, how did you do with the other two men in the basement?”

“The reader is Ronald Whitmore.  He died on the steps of the library of a heart attack.  The other man Chester Vogel is going to be our problem.  Chester Vogel wasn’t living rough because he was homeless.  He was a felon who escaped police custody while being transported from Joliet prison to the courthouse.  Vogel was a violent criminal.  He broke elbows and knees for a local loan shark.”

“Bad man,” Murphy vocalized for all to hear.

“We’ve got enough information to present to Miss Hodges,” Burt said.  “She, unfortunately, won’t be available for a few days; she has a prior engagement out of town.  I think we should suspend our investigation until she comes back.  The bully seems to be our only concern, and he seemed happy to see us leave the premises.  I’ll call the library and tell them not to expect us until Miss Hodges returns.  And maybe suggest that no one go down to the furnace room alone until we return.”

“That will bring on more questions,” Mike said.

“I’ll just have to do my best to field them.  I’ll mention that, if they do experience an increase in mischief, we will just be a phone call away.  I guess that’s it for present business. Does anyone have any new business?” Burt asked, looking around.  “No?  Then you guys are free for a few days.  I’ll call when I have a firm appointment with Miss Hodges, and we’ll return in force.  Excellent job, Audrey, you make us look like professionals.”

Audrey blushed.

Sabine walked over to the main computer screen and asked, “Who’s the little fellow in here?”

“Jake.  He’s our ghost in the machine,” Ted said.

“Is he trapped?”

“No, he’s there voluntarily.”

“Oh, I never thought a ghost would like the confines of a machine. I learn something new each and every day,” she said sweetly.  “Hello, little ghost, I’m Sabine.  I like your little red shirt.”

Jake responded by growing Marvin to fill the screen.

“That’s Jake speak for: he’s not a little ghost.”

“Pardon me,” Sabine said half seriously.  “Ted, do you think I could see your little boy before I go?”

“Sure.  Mrs. Braverman has been watching him while the meeting was going on.  Why don’t we both go over the farmhouse so I can relieve her.”

Sabine waited patiently while Ted finished with a few things before she walked with him into the farmhouse.

Mrs. Braverman, dressed in Chicago Bears attire, was surprised to see the pale blonde woman come in with Ted.  She looked enough like Mia to be a sister.  Sabine, who read her mind, walked over and introduced herself.  “I’m Sabine, Mia’s cousin.”

“Susan Braverman, I’m Deputy Tom’s mother.”

“You must be very proud of your son,” Sabine said sweetly.  “I’ve heard from Mia and Bev that he is a hero.”

Susan perked up.  “He’s a good son.”

Sabine looked at the woman’s clothes and said, “I’m sorry your team hasn’t been doing too well.  They have good hearts.”

“Do you watch football, Sabine?”

“My daughter Maisha is quite a fan.  We tape the games, and whenever Maisha gets grumpy, we play her a recording.  I know it’s not good parenting but…”

“Excellent parenting!” Susan exclaimed.  “I did the same with Tom, except we had video recordings back then.”

“Does Tom play football?”

“He used to in school.  But Tom’s heart wasn’t in it.”

“My heart wasn’t in what, Mom?” Tom asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Football.  Tom, this is Sabine.”

“We met at the hollow,” Tom said.

Sabine looked at him and seemed entranced.

“Do I have something on my uniform?” he said, brushing his jacket.

“Oh no, Tom, I’m just seeing where Stephen reached in and started your heart.  Mia has the same mark.”

“You can see it with my clothes on?”

“It’s not a scar on your body; it’s a mark on your aura.”

“Where?” his mother asked, interested.

Sabine took Susan’s hand in hers and guided it to Tom’s chest.  “He came in through here and squeezed, I imagine.  You see, the aura scars not unlike skin.  Tom has this beautiful strong color, but here it turns all purplely.  Same with Mia.”

Ted, who had left to retrieve Brian, listened to Sabine from the hallway.

“Mia’s aura has a lot of damage to it, but the heart slice is the same as Tom’s.”

“I’m very happy Murphy saved Tom,” Susan said, her eyes tearing up.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Sabine said, petting Susan’s arm.  “I’m not very good at small talk.”

Susan shook her head.  “Don’t you change a bit, young woman.”

Ted cleared his voice.  “Here’s Brian, come to see Aunty Sabine.”

Sabine whirled around, and Brian’s eyes lit up.  “Ah am ah am a eeeeee.”

“Yes, I’m your mom’s cousin, Sabine.  Your daddy calls me Aunty Sabine, but I’m really your second cousin.”

“Ah am ah am?”

“She’ll be home in two days,” Sabine said.  “Can I hold him, Ted?”

“Sure, anyone that speaks
Brian
should be able to hold him.”

Sabine took the child from his father and danced a little with the baby until Brian smiled.  “Are you having a good time with Mrs. Braverman?”

“Emmm Ah ee.”

Sabine looked over at Susan and said, “He really likes you.”

Tom and Ted shook hands.  Ted offered him a beer, but Tom patted his uniform and said, “I’m on duty, some other time.  I just came by to give Mom a ride home.”

“Did you hear that?  Mrs. Braverman gets to ride in a police car,” Sabine said in a singsong voice.  She moved away from the group and down the hall.  “Let’s see if we can see it from the guestroom window.”

“She’s really good with babies,” Susan commented.

“She should be, she has thirteen-month-old triplet girls.”

“Oh, dear, she’s the woman that just lost her husband,” Susan said.  “So young, so sad.”