NOLA (25 page)

Murphy frowned as he thought.  Suddenly his face lit up.  “The yellow eyes!”

“Yup, I imagine that’s the demon DNA,” Mia said, shedding her towel and pulling on her clothes, oblivious to having the male ghost standing there.

“The wings?” he asked, looking at her strong naked back.

“I would have bet on Judy causing that, but the judge thinks I also have a little birdman tucked in somewhere.”

“What else?”

“I don’t know, but he mentioned superhuman and angel.  Can you imagine me an angel?”

“No.”

Mia laughed, surprised by his answer.

“Bad Mia, no angel.”

“I think you’re probably right, old man,” she said, pulling on a nice sweater from the Going-to-the-Museum clothes Ralph had already selected for her.  “I was quite depressed over the demon thing.  I mean, no one likes to think that they have any of that inside of them, but alas, I do.  Do you hate me now?”

Murphy shook his head.  “I probably have some too.”

Mia smiled.  “I think I got the demon gene from Amanda’s side of the family.”

This caused Murphy to laugh.

“Now, I could really use some of those superhuman genes.  To be tall and all muscly…”

“Travel through time.”

“Yes.  None of this wondering how something happened; we could see for ourselves,” Mia mused.

“Play paddleball with Dickensian ghosts,” Murphy suggested.  “Do you remember what Ed did to that ghost?”

“That wreath was out of this world,” Mia said.  “Hey, you’re talking a lot. Did you take a hit off of the N’awlins energizer we put together for you?”

“No, I just feel strong here,” Murphy explained.  “I wonder why.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that the strongest spiritual energy is in this city.  Perhaps it works for tourists too.”

“Tourists?”

“Murphy, that’s you and I.  We’re tourists.  It means we aren’t from around here. We are touring.”

“Rick Steves.”

“Yes, good reference.  I think you’re better informed than I am.”

“Low bar.”

“OMG, you just dissed me.  Come on, let’s get this over with so we can go home, and you can’t talk to me anymore.”

Murphy laughed.  “Did you know that when I visited Sabine’s, Tauni gave me a handful of nine bolt batteries?  I think she thinks that I eat them.”

It was Mia’s turn to laugh.  She dragged the N’awlins Energizer into the closet and put her clothing and shoes around it.  “Don’t want the maid to freak out that we made a bomb or something,” she explained.

“It looks dangerous.”

“Come on, we followed the directions Ted gave us.”

“You and Ralph?”

“Yes.”

“Dangerous.”  Murphy was glad he was able to get his energy elsewhere.  “Great way to fry Murphy,” he said.

“Fried Murphy, I wonder what that tastes like?”

“Chicken.”

Mia concentrated, flashed her yellow eyes at Murphy and said in a very witch-like voice, “Tender and tasty, Stephen Murphy.”

“Bad Mia.”

Chapter Eighteen

Father Peter was early, so he chose to wait for the others outside.  Morning sounds in the Big Easy were a combination of spraying hoses, taking care of the over-drinkers, honking horns, “Wad you mean double-parked. I’m triple-parked,” and the sounds of birds gossiping in the trees.  It was a far cry from the ruckus that dominated Bourbon and other streets in the French Quarter at night.

He watched the trio walk towards him, Mia with overprotective Ralph on one side and an impressive ghost, carrying a very sharp axe, on the other.  This must be her protector and best friend Murphy.  He wouldn’t like to be on the opposite side of a fight with this entity.

“Good morning!” he said brightly.  He turned to Murphy and extended his hand, “I’m Father Peter.”

Murphy gripped the hand firmly and said, “Stephen Murphy.”

Father Peter sized the ghost up in the mere time they had contact.  The spirit was very powerful but had a lot of good in him.  Mia had chosen wisely.

“Before we go in,” Father Peter started and looked at Murphy once more before continuing, “I think that we all need to stick together no matter what.  That goes triple for you Murphy.  You, being a spirit, are the most vulnerable here.”

“I agree,” Mia said.  “Let’s get in, gather info, and get out.  I don’t like the feeling I’m getting from the place, and I’m standing outside of it.  The walls for instance, they are crying out.  Do you hear that?”

Father Peter put his hand on the wall and smiled.  “Chants.  The walls are filled with the chants of monks.”

Mia blushed.  Murphy couldn’t help smiling.

“Don’t worry, Mia, one person’s chant is another person’s cry for help,” Ralph said sagely.  “They are, after all, calls to God, aren’t they?”

“Not necessarily, but let’s table this discussion for later. I see our intrepid tour guide has arrived.”

The others turned around to see a smartly dressed young woman, carrying a small briefcase and a large coffee, walk towards them.  “Can’t survive without my double latte with six shots of espresso,” she admitted.  “I was expecting two people.”

“I’m sorry, that’s my fault.  Your place of business was closed when I found out that Father Peter would be available,” Mia explained.  “I hope this isn’t a problem.”

“No, not at all.  The place is ours for the next two hours,” she said.  “I was told to give you the tour and then let you roam the place.  An all access pass, if you will.  I’m Caroline Simpson.  My people have been in N’awlins since 1803.  They came over from Haiti and lived as free blacks.  I bet you didn’t know that, at that time, one in six black residents of Louisiana were free folk.”

“I didn’t know that,” Mia admitted.  “History isn’t my strong suit.”

“You wouldn’t have read this in any history book, but that is why you come to N’awlins, to learn the truth.”

Mia smiled at the confident woman.  “Tell me about this building?” she asked.

“The Cully Museum is made up of four houses.  It did take on considerable damage during Katrina.  The collections were all housed upstairs, but we did lose most of our original façade.  The old bricks were mixed in with bricks obtained from the old monastery.  It looks like one building from the front, but in actuality, it is two.”

“Did the museum use the monastery bricks elsewhere besides the façade?”

“Yes, you’ll find these bricks all over the museum.  Let’s go in and start the tour.”

Mia lagged behind the others and whispered to Murphy, “You won’t be able to move in and out of the outside walls.  The monks soaked the bricks in brine.”

Murphy nodded.

They followed the group inside.

~

Honor received Miss Ruby in her front parlor.  The older woman, riddled with arthritis, moved slowly.

“Can I get you some refreshment?” Honor asked.

“Just some coffee, if it’s made. Don’t you go to any fuss, hear me?”

Honor nodded to her maid and asked for coffee and cookies to be brought.  Honor sat across from Miss Ruby who had sat down in the middle of the floral sofa.  She dug into her purse.  “I’ve got them here.  I’ve seen something in the cards that maybe you can help me with.”

Miss Ruby unwound a silk scarf to expose a large deck of Tarot cards.  “I’ve been asking the old ones about our problem, and I keep getting the same cards.”

The old fingers shuffled the cards, and Honor watched in amazement as eight cards flew from the deck and onto the table face down.  “I’ve tried shuffling them at this point, but they’ll just rearrange themselves.”

Miss Ruby flipped the first card over.  “Now wait until I have them all down and see what happens.”

True to the old woman’s word, the seven cards set themselves up with two foundation cards, followed by an ascending and descending stairway.  The first card The Tower was followed by the Hanged Man, here the steps descended with the 6 of Swords followed by Death.  The upper stairs included the Star followed by the Devil and Temperance on top of each other, followed finally by the 10 of Cups.

“It looks like a choice, but why the extra cards at the top path?” Honor questioned.

“When I read it, I see that the world is falling apart. We are stuck as to how to fix it.  The descending stairs speak of making a change, but still this will lead to death.  The ascending stairs asks us to follow the Star, but then it doesn’t make any sense.  The Devil and Temperance?  Immoderation and moderation? Finally, the 10 of Cups, which I’ve been taught to assume is the happy ending.  Taking this path we will be safe and secure.”

“Let’s wave the meanings of the cards and concentrate on the pictures,” Honor suggested.  “Here we have N’awlins which, to the spirit world, is falling apart.  One man has started all of this.  If we leave, we will only be safe for a while before death finds us.  But if we put our faith in the star, she will bring along the devil and an angel, and the result will be a celebration of home and family.”

Miss Ruby looked down and then at Honor.  “You mean, all I had to do was look at the pictures?”  This brought a cackling laugh from the old psychic.  “But who is this star that has the devil and angel inside of her?”

Honor smiled.  “I have a feeling I’ve met her.”

“Will she help us?”

“She’s doing that now.”

“Who is she?”

“Her given name is Mia, such a little name for such a powerful sensitive.”

“Maybe it stands for something else, like them whatchamacallits…”

Honor was puzzled and then asked, “You mean acronyms?”

“Yes, damn things.  NOLA for N’awlins Louisiana. Why can’t them damn fools just say it longhand?  Damn it, I’m digressin’.  What I’m thinking is that Mia actually stands for something too big for us humans to contemplate.  Like Mighty Immoderate Angel.”

“Whatever she’s called, let’s pray that she succeeds,” Honor said.

~

Museums in the light of day seem friendly to most.  To Mia, they are jack-in-the-boxes of hidden horrors.  One goes along, lulled by the history and beauty, and
pop
, out comes evil of some kind.  The Albert Cully collection was different.  There were no entities attached to the needlework or furniture displayed.  Mia put her face as close as the glass cases would allow her and studied the rust-stained strand of thread.  Someone poked their finger with a needle and left a trace of themselves on the sampler, but there was no ghost attached to it.

Caroline stopped and waited until Mia looked up.  “We’re going upstairs to the jewel room if you’d like to follow us.”

“Sorry,” Mia said and left the sampler to puzzle out another time.

They climbed the steep stairs.

“Be careful of these.  They aren’t exactly built to code,” she said.  “There is an elevator, but we would have to backtrack to get to it,” she explained.

Mia liked the worn feel of the steps and pondered how many feet had traveled them in a day, let alone the years since the craftsman had built them.

Ralph had been strangely quiet.  Mia tapped him on the shoulder and asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m just observing.  I’ll share what I’ve learned later.  Right now, I’m being big ears and eyes and closed mouth.”

Mia wasn’t sure she liked this obedient Ralph as much as the overemotional superhero she was used to.  Evidently, she hadn’t seen all sides of her godfather.  This trip had been quite an eye-opener.

“This gem room was refinished two years ago.  We added the roof lantern to bring in as much natural light as possible,” Carol informed them.

Mia’s sharp eyes picked out where the screen had been forced away from the window vent.  “Excuse me, but did you have a break in recently?”

“Why yes.  Someone came in and stole a valuable artifact.”

“Did he come in from the roof lantern?”

“I’m not sure, but they did find the lantern open and the screen cut out.”

“Do you mind if I take a look?”

Mia could tell that the tour guide was taken aback.  “I’m not sure if your
all access pass
allows you on the roof,” Caroline said.

“Could you find out?” Mia asked.

“Fine, you three stay here, and don’t touch anything,” she said, eyeing them suspiciously.

When she had left, Mia turned to Murphy.  “Could you go up there and check to see if the burglar left anything that the police didn’t find?”

“According to the police report…,” Ralph said, searching his notes.  “Yes…  They found a climbing rope attached to the roof lantern.”

“So if this was a burglary, what did the criminal make off with?” Father Peter asked Ralph.

“Just the mask.  It was reputed to be worn by the Grand Duke Alexei Alexandrovich Romanov at the 1872 Mardi Gras Celebration Ball.”

“Are those paste?” Father Peter pointed to the cases and cases of jewels.

“I expect they are real,” Ralph said.  “Although, I don’t have my Optivisor with me.”

Father Peter blinked twice.

“Yes, he has a pair,” Mia said.  “Ralph takes no one’s word on the quality of gemstones.”

Murphy floated down, directing a small piece of fabric Mia’s way.  She opened up her hand and snatched it.

“Stuck on frame.”

“It appears, gentlemen, that the police did miss something,” Mia said.  She slid off her glove and placed the fragment in her hand.  Images of similar heists filled her head.  She moved forward and backward until she got the idea and the identity of the perpetrator.  “Sean Edwards,” she said.  “He’s the burglar.”

“Sean Edwards…  Isn’t he the son of Stewart Edwards?  I think I read that Sean was missing.  The family had gotten the idea that he was spending Mardi Gras with his friends, but the people he was to meet up with at the ball claim that Sean never showed.  It was quite the scandal.  I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it,” Father Peter said.

Both Mia and Ralph shook their heads.

“I expect a lot of people go missing after Mardi Gras.  Sins are committed, and men are afraid to go home.  Women take up with strangers promising them a better life,” he listed.  “But most of them eventually end up going home.  I guess Sean wasn’t one of them.”