Down the Hatch

by Constance Barker

  “I should probably thank you,” Gwen said. “That couple was very close to taking home a heart-shaped mirror.”

  “I know,” I said. “But we agreed. No nudging.”

  “And I remembered...in time.” Gwen headed for the door. “I have a patient to prepare for, and you know how patients are. They can be an hour late, but the therapist has to be there on time, every time.”

  I watched her leave, and I felt a pang of regret. I needed someone to listen to my ideas, perhaps give me a bit of help. Andromeda was still away. Roxanne was nowhere to be seen, although Orchid and Zephyr were not far away. That made me wonder about Gwen. I had the feeling she had banished Roxanne for a while. That would be just like Gwen. And it was another reason she had hurried away. She knew I tolerated Roxanne, and I expected Gwen to tolerate the ghost also. Yet, I knew Gwen was not patient with ghosts, which was odd. Gwen was more than patient with her clients. Before I could talk myself out of it, I called the police station. There was someone there I needed to talk to.

  Chapter 5

  I was with a mother and daughter when Jacob came through the door. They were trying to find that “something old” item needed for a wedding. I didn’t believe in the old saw, but then, it wasn’t my wedding. Yet, while I didn’t believe, I was pretty sure I would be wearing “something old” when I walked down the aisle. It didn’t pay to take chances. I nodded to Jacob who started roaming, as if shopping, while I settled with the mother and daughter. They decided on a gold bracelet that dated from the civil war.

  I knew the history of the bracelet. It belonged to a Charleston debutante whose mother commissioned the bracelet for the daughter’s coming out. In those days, the debutante ball was a huge deal. The girls who attended the ball were the cream of the Charleston elite. They were on display for the local young men to view and choose. In some ways, it was that simple. And if the girl liked the young man, so much the better. But marriages were unions of convenience and power in those days. Love was a factor, but not the only consideration. And couples were expected to stay together. Long engagements were the rule, as getting along with each other was a major consideration.

  The young woman with the bracelet never married. The war took the young man she wanted. Disease and starvation weakened her to where pneumonia sent her to her grave. Her mother sold the bracelet in order to make ends meet. The war was hard on everyone. I considered the bracelet lucky and not because of the daughter. Its sale had enabled the mother to live past the war, marry a second husband, and live a long life. No, it didn’t help the debutante, but it served a purpose.

  After the sale, I found Jacob in the antique headboard section of the store. Some of the headboards were exquisitely carved and preserved. The brass ones were polished and bright. He was admiring one that showed a stag and a doe eyeing each other.

  “That’s a fine piece of work,” Jacob said.

  “In the old days, people believed such carvings would encourage children,” I said.

  “They were probably right. You called?”

  “I did. And I want to tell you before your patrol people do, that I was in the alley today, the one where Thomas died.”

  “That’s not a good idea, but I’m sure you know that. What else?”

  Jacob knew me well enough to understand that simply meeting the officers wasn’t going to bother me—much.

  “I found a silver feather.”

  He looked at me.

  “A silver feather comes from a magical being,” I added. “It could be a seraph or Cupid or some other creature. Silver feathers don’t come with sea gulls.”

  He chuckled. “That’s true. Yet, you don’t know who might have left the feather, or when it was left.”

  I shook my head. “It was some distance from the body,” I said. “And I don’t remember seeing it that night.”

  “Not so far that the owner could have missed with an arrow?”

  “No, for a skilled archer, the shot would have been reasonably easy.”

  “That adds a detail that doesn’t help much,” Jacob said. “We have very little to go on. I mean, no witnesses, no forensic traces, seeing as we couldn’t get any DNA from the lipstick.”

  “And lip patterns are not unique, right?”

  He shook his head. “Nope. We’re stuck at the beginning. It may boil down to motive. Who had a reason to kill Thomas.”

  “Jennifer,” I said. “She'd put up with his shenanigans for a long time. And, as you know, she was never the shy type. If she thought she could get away with it, I could see her doing it.”

  “She’s on my list, and she doesn’t have an alibi, but she would have to be really desperate to commit murder. After all, the spouse is the first and generally the best suspect in such cases.”

  “Exactly. And we shouldn’t look past the obvious.”

  “We? You’re not thinking for investigating this, are you?”

  I shrugged. “What can I do? I don’t want everyone in the quarter to think I’m a killer.”

  “Look, I’ll look into Jennifer and the feather, although that’s a bit out of my league.”

  “I can do it,” I said. “But I have to be careful. Powerful magical beings can be difficult, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do. But you know I can’t give you any official standing in this case. You’re not the police, and you don’t have any sort of power to arrest or interrogate. You’re a civilian and a suspect.”

  “I know what people think I am,” I said. “And I won’t do anything in any official capacity. But the case is at a standstill. I can help.”

  His phone buzzed, and he glanced at the text. “I have to go. And I have to remind you that if you have a lead, call me. I’ll take it from there.”

  I nodded. “I won’t do anything rash. I’m a big chicken.”

  He laughed, a good laugh.

  Maybe it was the laugh, or maybe Gwen’s spell wore off, but as Jacob walked out, Roxanne appeared. She immediately began to blubber, and I understood what it was to be driven to murder. At that exact moment, I was tempted to muzzle her for the next ten years.

  “We’ll see to her,” Orchid said as she passed.

  “We can tell you’re not very happy,” Zephyr said. “So, we’ll try to steer her up to the stacks.”

  “You’ll find treasures in the most unlikely places,” I said loud enough for the browsers to hear. I was hoping Roxanne would take the hint.

  True to their word, Orchid and Zephyr did herd Roxanne up to the second floor. I was thankful that they were there. Once Roxanne was taken care of, I focused on the feather. I whispered a spell I had used on some of the antiques.

  “Born of people

  Born of place

  Born with secrets long displaced

  Secrets you have yet to free

  Bring out secrets and give to me.”

  I waited, but the silver feather yielded nothing. I was afraid of that. Magicals often rid their feathers of any information, on the odd chance that someone might happen upon something lost. In a society that feared and hunted magicals, keeping hidden was of prime importance.

  I had just put the feather away, pushing my mind to consider the records I had to keep, when in through the door came...

  Jennifer.

  Chapter 6

  In most polite societies, there is a decorum to observe. The older the society, the more importance decorum has. In New Orleans, the decorum for the dead was to wear black, at least for a few months, although some people insisted on a full year before the pastel hues of spring could be put on. To say the least, Jennifer did not observe decorum. She was wearing a pastel pink outfit that looked more in keeping with the beach than the funeral parlor. Her red hair was nicely displayed, not pulled into a severe bun like some women would have. Her green eyes were clear and bright. She hadn’t been crying. There was absolutely nothing that bespoke grief and sadness. The only thing she was missing was a pretty song to sing. A summer lilt would have suited her to a tee.

/>   “Can I help you?” I asked. I had to ask, even if she accused me of murdering Thomas. Sometimes, I had to take the tongue lashing I didn’t deserve.

  “Why, yes you can,” Jennifer said. “I’m looking for a lamp for the family room and a writing desk for my office. Well, the office I’m going to have. What do you suggest?”

  I was surprised. I had given her the perfect chance to call me a killer, and she had passed, as if she didn’t care that Thomas had been murdered. In fact, she seemed positively giddy now that he was dead.

  “Do you, do you have a budget?” I asked. The worst thing about shoppers was finding out after an hour that they had a severe budget. Showing them what they might afford was the goal of every approach.

  “Not really,” Jennifer said. “Thomas carried a very hefty life insurance policy, so I’m going to pick up a nice bit of change. For the first time in my adult life, I’ll be able to afford whatever suits my tastes.”

  “That’s fortunate,” I countered.

  “Very fortunate. Especially, since I was divorcing him. If that had gone through, I’m certain he would have changed the beneficiary or stopped making premium payments. His death has made me a wealthy woman.”

  I was struck by the callousness of her attitude. She seemed positively happy her husband was dead. She wasn’t talking about a lack of love. She was glad he was gone. I wondered just how much she had hated Thomas.

  “Oh, I know I sound wicked,” she said, as if reading my thoughts. “But I have decided not to be a hippocrite. I am glad he’s dead. I didn’t kill him, and I had come to grips with being without him. I mean, once I decided to divorce him, I decided to live without him. If you turn your mind to that, you can’t feel so bad.”

  Her reasoning was not imperfect. Had the divorce become final, she would have written off Thomas as just another poor investment, to be buried and forgotten. It wasn’t her attitude so much as the display of that attitude.

  Decorum.

  We had it in spades in New Orleans. When someone didn’t conform, it was telling.

  I showed Jennifer a very nice Tiffany lamp that she thought perfect. The colored glass was set in a beautiful pattern of swirls and flowers. It was a wonderful piece that had once belonged to a brothel owner in Mississippi. I didn’t tell Jennifer the history, as I thought she might relish the lamp even more—not that Jennifer was going to run a brothel. The writing desk was more of a challenge, and we did not settle on it. There were two that met her needs, and I was certain there were several more upstairs that would do. I wasn’t ready to show them, as no one wants to buy a dusty desk that looks as old as it is.

  An hour of considering ended when Jennifer announced that she was heading out for a drink. I was welcome to join her. I demurred, as I had the store to run.

  “Pity,” Jennifer said. “I think you and I could have great fun...without Thomas. You know, I’ve watched him chase you for several years, and I have to commend you on your restraint. He was positively ugly at times.”

  “He was mostly harmless,” I said. “I’m sure that once I said yes to his overture, he would have passed over and sought out the next woman.”

  “Yes, he was that way, wasn’t he? And I can assure you that once he got drunk, he wasn’t worth anything. All talk, no action, if you know what I mean.”

  I had learned never to badmouth the dead. In fact, I could have given Jennifer some pointers on that. But that would've been revealing too much.

  “So, dear,” Jennifer said as she headed for the door. “I have no problems with you whatsoever...no matter what you did or didn’t do.” She winked and was gone.

  The door was open long enough for Andromeda to slip into the store. He was silent and quick, and I doubted many people had seen him.

  “That woman has absolutely no heart,” Orchid said.

  Both Orchid and Zephyr were standing close by. I could hear them, and I was pretty sure Andromeda could too, but that didn’t matter.

  “She reminds me of a woman I knew back in the day. Her name was Foxy. That wasn’t her real name which was Florence. Foxy got married to big hulk of man with a lopsided face. She was from the bayou, and she had married him to escape the swamp. Of course, the first thing that happened was that Foxy fell for a gangster named Chopstick, because he was so skinny. In those days, making eyes at another man’s wife was the wrong thing to do. Although, I guess it’s the same today. Unless it’s some drunk like that Thomas.”

  “Honey,” Orchid said. “Is this story going somewhere?”

  “It is,” Zephyr insisted. “Bear with me. All good stories take time to tell.”

  Orchid rolled her eyes, and I was thankful that the rest of the store could not hear Zephyr’s long story.

  “As I was saying before I was interrupted,” Zephyr continued. “Foxy talked Chopstick into killing her husband. Chopstick was not the brightest bulb on the block. Then, Foxy did the unthinkable. She turned in Chopstick. She didn’t really want him. She just needed a way to get rid of her husband, who had a huge life insurance policy on him. Foxy got the money and vanished. Some people said she went to California, but that was just rumor. Wherever she went, she got there with a load of cash.”

  “Now, what kind of story is that?” Orchid asked. “Why can’t you tell uplifting stories once in a while?”

  “In those days, there weren’t a lot of uplifting people.”

  I waved away the ghosts and considered the story. What if Jennifer had an accomplice? She was an attractive woman, with that red hair and those green eyes. What if she had charmed someone into killing Thomas? That huge life insurance windfall was more than enough to entice some men. Or maybe, it wasn’t even another man. The world had turned in some respects, and while decorum dictated coed couples, Jennifer was no fan of decorum. For all anyone knew, she could have a male or female lover. And that lover could have put an arrow into Thomas’ heart, with the knowledge that no one would ever connect Thomas to the archer. Jennifer would have the perfect alibi—of course—and a gob of money to spend. I wondered if she was in the market for a new house, in a distant city. That would be a tipoff, wouldn’t it?

  I turned to Andromeda, who was rubbing himself against the counter.

  What do you think? Did Jennifer have an accomplice?

  When one cannot perform the act, then a partner is necessary.

  It would be easy for her. After all, everyone would be watching Thomas, not her.

  The unhappy partner is always the one to watch.

  But I’ve never heard of her stepping out on Thomas, and in the quarter, someone would notice.

  Who notices a plumber?

  You have a point. Any service provider would do. The lawn service, the man who sprays for bugs, because we have a lot bugs. The pool boy, although I don’t think Jennifer has a pool. And not anyone too smart, right?

  A man smitten has no brain.

  I laughed. Andromeda sounded as if he had been smitten himself once or twice.

  In any case, I should talk to Jacob about accomplices, and I need to keep an eye on Jennifer. Who might she be talking to and eating with?

  The vigilant live longer.

  With that, Andromeda finished licking his hind end and padded off toward the rear of the store. I noticed that he did not offer to keep tabs on Jennifer, and that was to be expected. Andromeda was good for some sorts of investigating. Stakeouts were not included in that list. He was easily bored.

  As the day was winding down, I decided that I would talk to Jacob again and mention the possibility of Jennifer having an accomplice. He might want to be on the lookout for someone coming into an unexplained stash of cash. I was pretty sure that any accomplice of Jennifer’s would be itching for the money. Of course, if I did tell Jacob, he might accuse me of investigating where I shouldn’t be investigating. That might be true, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me.

  The sun was setting as I sort of shooed out the last tourist and locked the door. The closing tasks had to be performed,
but that wouldn’t take long. Of course, Roxanne chose that moment to appear and approach me. She wasn’t wailing, but she wasn’t happy either.

  “Have you possibly come upon my necklace,” she asked.

  I wanted to ask her what had happened to her chaperones. I supposed they had fallen into another argument and thus, weren’t up to shadowing Roxanne.

  “If I had, I would have called you,” I told Roxanne. “And if I do happen upon it, you will be the first to know.”

  She forced a smile that wasn’t much of a smile. “I am forever grateful. And I swear by all that’s holy to me, that I will do a better job of controlling my emotions. You have been too understanding for anything less.”

  With that, Roxanne faded away. I was thankful for the sentiment, but I was pretty sure Roxanne would be weeping the next day. I was approaching the point where I might start looking for a place to relocate her. If I needed to, I would find another antique store where she could search through even more items. In fact, I might even be able to send Orchid and Zephyr on that mission. I supposed they were at their wit’s end also.

  Having put the store to rest, I left, making sure the door was securely locked. I didn’t worry about Andromeda. Like most cats, he had more than one way to leave the building. As I walked away, I texted Gwen and Penelope. I was ready for dinner and a drink, and THE SHIFTY BEAR, a very accommodating pub was on the way home. They agreed to meet me there, which would, hopefully, keep me from dwelling on the murder and my current status as number one suspect. There was a certain anxiety I was trying to quell. I knew my sister and friend would help.

  I was almost to the front door, when a man came flying past me.

  “And stay out!” a woman called.