by Eric Wilder
“Baby, what is the matter? Why are you crying?”
“That monster Dr. Lalaurie has Darius locked in the cage in the garden. He’s going to cut him up in his butcher shop.”
“No, he won’t,” Taj said. “We have a plan.”
Aisling wiped away her tears. “What plan?”
“Tomorrow night I’m going to a hotel in the Quarter with Dr. Lalaurie. He’ll think I am you.”
“Me?”
“The perverted maniac wants to defile you. I’m going to take your place.”
“Oh no, Mama, I won’t allow it. He’ll kill you.”
Adela showed Aisling the knife. “He will not because I will kill him first.”
“He’ll just take the knife away from you and use it to carve you up,” Aisling said.
Adela opened her blouse and showed Aisling the veve. “No, he won’t because I have divine power on my side. Taj has a similar veve on his chest.”
“I won’t let you do this,” Aisling said. “I couldn’t bear it if you were killed. Let me do it.”
“I can’t,” Adela said. “When the monster arrives tomorrow evening for you, we must use illusion on him. Trick him into thinking I am you.”
“How will we do that?” Aisling asked.
Adela took Aisling’s face in her hands. “I have a plan. I think we can make it work. You must be an actress, a great actress or the plan will fail, and we all will die. Will you help me with this?”
“Only if you let Shasa tattoo a veve on my chest,” Aisling said.
Chapter 33
Adela and Aisling waited for Dr. Lalaurie’s inevitable knock on their door. They’d sat on the side of Aisling’s bed in each other’s arm for what seemed like hours.
“Mama, I’m so scared,” Aisling said.
“Don’t be, Baby. Everything will turn out all right.”
“I know. I just can’t stop shaking. I don’t want to lose you.”
“No one’s losing anybody,” Adela said. “We’ve planned this down to the finest detail. We even have Shasa’s voodoo on our sides.”
“She told me, and she also told me not to worry. I wish I could do that. I can’t.”
“Time to stop worrying about it,” Adela said. “I hear someone coming down the hall, and it’s probably Dr. Lalaurie.” Adela kissed Aisling’s forehead. “Will you be okay?”
“I’ll try,” Aisling said.
“I love you, Baby.”
“I love you, Mama.”
Darkness had begun to fall, shadows creeping over the courtyard outside the window. When the knock came, Adela opened the door. It was Dr. Lalaurie.
“You know what I’m here for,” he said.
“You won’t have to wait. Aisling is ready,” Adela said.
“Then bring her to me,” Dr. Lalaurie said.
Aisling stepped from behind the door dressed in a long black coat, a hood covering her head and a Mardi Gras mask over her face.
“Why is she in a mask?” Lalaurie asked.
“It seemed like the right thing to do,” Adela said. “Someone at the hotel might recognize her. You don’t want anyone to know you’re taking a fifteen-year-old relative up to your hotel room.”
Lalaurie hesitated before answering. “Probably a wise idea. Remove your mask and coat. I need to see your face.”
Aisling lifted the mask and removed the coat to reveal a red dress slit all the way up her long legs. Dr. Lalaurie took a deep breath as someone in the hallway tapped his shoulder. It was Taj.
“Mastah, I have questions that need some answers and will require no more than a few minutes of your time. Can we talk about it?”
“Not now. Whatever it is you have to say will have to wait until tomorrow,” Lalaurie said.
“It will only take a moment,” Taj said.
“I said, it will have to wait.”
Taj persisted. “Just one question, that’s all I ask.”
“I have other things on my mind.”
“But . . .”
“Stop it. I will not tolerate disobedience. Enough, I said. Be gone with you, now.”
Dr. Lalaurie had turned away from the door for less than thirty seconds. It was all the time Aisling needed. Slipping the red dress over her head, she gave it, along with her coat and mask to her mother.
With deft hands, she helped her put them on. Dr. Lalaurie didn’t notice the costume change as he grabbed Adela’s hand and pulled her out the door. Once they were gone, Aisling put her arms around Taj and began crying again. Too busy leading whom he thought was a fifteen-year-old girl down the hallway, Dr. Lalaurie didn’t notice.
“You have my blood boiling my young pretty, so let us make haste. Tonight may not be long enough for me to quench my desire for you. I don’t want to waste a moment.”
A carriage waited outside the Lalaurie Mansion on Royal Street, and the driver dropped them off in front of the Hotel Montalba, the tallest building in New Orleans. Dr. Lalaurie identified himself to the man at the front desk, and then he and Adela proceeded upstairs. Adela had yet to speak a single word.
A serving cart with a bottle of champagne and two glasses waited for them in the center of the large suite of rooms. Dr. Lalaurie ogled Adela’s fiery red dress and hair after helping her remove her coat. Aisling’s breasts weren’t exactly flat but were still much smaller than her mother’s. Adela was praying Dr. Lalaurie hadn’t caught on to her ruse. As the little madman had other things on his mind, he didn’t seem to have.
“As Act One of our night together we shall first enjoy a bottle of the finest champagne,” Dr. Lalaurie said.
Lalaurie seated her in a chair, uncorked the bottle of champagne, and then made a production of pouring each of them a glass.
Adela said, “I’ve never tasted champagne.”
“Good,” Lalaurie said. “This is the bridal suite, and tonight you are my bride. Before the evening ends, you will experience the heights of rapture and the depths of despair.”
Lalaurie’s comment sent a shiver up Adela’s spine as she sipped her champagne across the table from the man whose smile had begun turning satanic. It seemed he had much more in mind than just the deflowering of a fifteen-year-old girl. She knew she’d have to act soon.
“And now, I want you to remove your mask,” he said.
Adela answered in her best child’s voice. “Mama said the mask would make the sex act much more exciting and you should remove it only at the moment of climax.”
“An excellent idea,” he said. “What else did your mama tell you?”
“She said I’m lucky to experience my first time in bed with such a fine gentleman.”
“Did she now?” Lalaurie said. “Anything else?”
“That you’re one of the smartest and most handsome men in all of New Orleans.”
“I don’t believe a word you say,” Lalaurie said. “It doesn’t matter, because I like hearing it.”
“This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen,” Adela said. “It must have cost a fortune to rent it for the night.”
“Very perceptive,” Lalaurie said. “This suite of rooms is a special place. I’ve planned this night for many months.”
“Do you mind if I have a look around?” Adela asked.
“I welcome your enthusiasm,” Lalaurie said.
Adela finished her champagne before leaving the table and looking in the bathroom. A regal porcelain tub dominated the floor finished in black and white tile. Following a quick glance, she went to the four-poster bed.”
“I’ve only ever dreamed of sleeping in something so fabulous,” she said.
“Don’t get your heart set,” Lalaurie said. “If I have any say in the matter, you won’t get much sleep in it tonight.”
“You are funny,” Adela said.
Knowing she had the knife secured in a pocket in her dress, she inched around Lalaurie and crept over to the bed. Making a pretense of mussing the sheets, she used the ruse to slip the knife under the pillow.
“
I’ve never had sex before,” she said. “Please don’t hurt me,” she said.
Lalaurie’s comment again left an uneasy feeling in Adela’s stomach.
“That is a request I cannot promise to grant,” he said.
Deciding to take the initiative, Adela climbed on the bed, sprawled against the pillow, and spread her arms.
“I’m ready to make love to you,” she said.
“Oh no, my dear girl. The time isn’t right. I have other plans for you before we consummate the final act.”
Dr. Lalaurie had brought his black leather medical bag with them from the mansion. Retrieving it, he removed his instruments, arranging them on the serving cart. From a medical vial, he filled two shot glasses and took them to the bedside.
“Drink it, my dear,” he said.
“What is it?” Adela asked.
“Nectar from the magical garden of the god Morpheus,” he said.
“What does it do?” she asked.
“It creates the most golden euphoria you will ever experience,” Lalaurie said. “Our time together will last longer and be all the more exciting. Now drain your glass.”
“I don’t understand,” she said.
Lalaurie downed his shot. “Drink the potion and stop with your inane comments,” he said.
When Adela put the shot glass to her lips, Lalaurie watched closely, making sure she drained all of the liquid. Lalaurie touched a drop that had rolled off her lips and put it into his mouth.
“Now what?” she asked.
“If you are the person I think you are, tonight will be the best of your life.”
“And if I’m not?” she said.
“Then you are in line for a bit of suffering,” he said. “I’m going into the bathroom to prepare your bath. The water must be extra warm, so you enjoy it while I luxuriate in the sight of your young body.”
The morphine Dr. Lalaurie had given Adela began to work as he disappeared around the corner, the euphoria he had mentioned already beginning to flush her cheeks red. In all of her life, she’d never experienced anything like the warmth spreading through her body.
Adela took a deep breath, trying to regain control of her senses. As she did, she thought of Aisling, Taj, and Shasa. She suddenly had doubts, serious doubts, if she would have the wherewithal to kill the little lunatic when the opportunity presented itself.
Placing her hand under the pillow, Adela felt for the hilt of the knife, her heart beating faster when she didn’t immediately find it. When her fingers locked around the bony hilt her hand was trembling, her thoughts filled with doubt.
Should she creep into the bathroom and attempt to plunge the sharp knife between Lalaurie’s shoulder blades? The progressive euphoria was locking up her resolve, preventing her from doing anything other than to close her eyes. The first sight she saw when she opened them was Lalaurie’s smile that had grown more sinister than before.
“Come with me,” he said. “Your bathwater is drawn. I have waited too long to see your body.”
Adela’s fears had vanished, and so had her logic. It didn’t bother her that Lalaurie had transferred his surgical instruments to a table in the bathroom, or there was a drain in the black and white tile floor. She was tripping, and even the imminent possibility of her own death failed to disturb her.
Only the flickering light of seven black candles illuminated the bathroom. Had Adela been more cognizant, she would have appreciated the dimness. It didn’t seem to matter as she unbuttoned the long red dress and let it drop to the floor.
Dr. Lalaurie watched as Adela entered the tub. Steam wafted toward the ceiling as she sank into the water up to her neck. Somewhere, deep in her soul, she knew she would never make it to the bed. At that moment, she was beyond caring.
***
The kitchen at the Lalaurie Mansion was dark. No one had come to release Shasa from her chain. She was sitting on the floor, her head in her hands, crying. As she waited in the darkness, she heard a scream and instinctively knew where it had come from. After rising off the floor with some difficulty, she made her way to a storage cabinet.
Coal oil lamps lighted the kitchen at night. The sooty fuel always caused Shasa to cough. Tonight, she didn’t care. Finding a coal oil can in the closet, she took it to the oven still hot with glowing coals. Taking a handful of ashes from the hearth, she began drawing a Baron Samedi veve on the floor. When she finished, she sat in the middle of the intricate symbol. Taking the can of coal oil, she poured it over her head.
Shasa was distraught, of that there was no doubt. She waited until the coal oil had soaked into her dress, then reached into the hearth with her hand and extracted a glowing coal. She didn’t wince as she held the coal to her heart, waiting until it ignited the oil, and then her dress. She’d drawn her veve on the floor and was giving herself as the offering.
Shasa closed her eyes and crossed her arms as the ensuing blaze ignited her dress. Fire, quickly spreading to the walls and dry wood engulfed Shasa’s old body. As it did, she prayed Baron Samedi would accept her offering and change her fate, and that of Taj, Aisling, Adela, and all the other wretched humans, trapped in the Lalaurie’s house of evil.
Chapter 34
As Shasa’s dress caught fire and began to burn, a dark cloud engulfed the ensuing scene. The music grew so loud I could hear it even through my earplugs. As the spirits of Taj and Aisling faded into nothingness, there remained only total silence and complete darkness. I popped the plugs out of my ears and shook Mama Mulate’s arm to make sure she was still cognizant.
“Shasa,” Mama said. “Let’s revive these two and then we have work to do.
Waking Taj and Adela took some effort. Mama slapped cold water on their faces and shook them gently until they’d regained consciousness. When they did, they both looked as if they’d survived a beating.
“What the hell did you do to us? I’ve never had a headache like this,” Taj said. “Feels like a mule inside my skull trying to kick his way out.”
Mama gave them each two tablets.
“What is it?” Taj asked.
“Aspirin,” she said. “You’ll feel better in a bit.”
“What happened?” Adela asked.
“I channeled two spirits. Wyatt and I witnessed scenes from the night you were murdered, and the Lalaurie Mansion burned.”
“You know I love you, Mama,” Taj said. “I hope you’re not pulling our legs on this one.”
“Wyatt and I know what happened, where your veves came from, and why you are here. Let’s get dressed.”
“Aren’t you going to tell us, first?” Taj asked.
“You’ll know everything we know in due time,” Mama said.
It was still raining outside, my clothes damp when I exited the bathroom. Taj and Adela were experiencing the same problem
“Try not to fret,” Mama said. “We are going to get even wetter when we go back out.”
“Surely this can wait until tomorrow,” Taj said.
“I’m so tired I’m about to drop,” Mama said. “There’s nothing I’d rather do than wait until tomorrow. We can’t because tomorrow may be too late.”
“Can I at least finish my glass of wine before we go?” Taj asked.
“Then slug it down and bring the bottle with you. We may need it,” Mama said. “When you finish, call a cab. Have them pick us up.”
“At this hour?” Taj said.
“You have the card of the man who took us to the cemetery. Call him. He didn’t seem particular about what hours he worked.”
“Where are we going?” Adela asked.
“To the cemetery. I have a feeling someone is waiting there for us.”
Mama had a closet filled with clothes from past relationships. Even Taj found a raincoat that fit him. The cab arrived shortly, and I grabbed the front seat. Mama, Taj, and Adela piled in back.
For as late as it was, our cabbie looked wide awake. He fingered the pencil stub resting on his ear.
“Wait, don’t tell me,�
�� he said. “St. Louis Cemetery No. 1.”
“You’re a mind reader,” Mama said. “Wish you could stop the rain.”
“I ain’t figured how to do that just yet. If I could, I wouldn’t be driving this hack at all hours of the night.”
“I hear that,” Mama said. “We won’t be gone long. Will you wait for us?”
“I still remember the tip that big boy here laid on me the last time. I’ll wait.”
Wink, the cab driver parked near the entrance to the cemetery. As if someone was expecting us, we found the front gate open. Old iron hinges creaked as we pushed through the door and walked toward an ephemeral light piercing the darkness. It was coming from a storage shed.
“That’s the same building where I first saw Sam,” Taj said.
“Good,” Mama said.
“How would he have known we were coming?” Taj asked. “We didn’t know ourselves until a half-hour ago.”
“He’s here,” Mama said. “I sense his presence.”
Lightning, illuminating the eerie old crypts surrounding us, flashed through the rain falling in torrents. After booming thunder died away, we heard a voice calling to us from inside the shack.
“It’s me, Sam. Come in here.”
The door closed behind us, shadows dancing on old brick masonry as coals from a pot-bellied stove flickered and popped. Sam was dressed in jeans and an old work shirt. The lighted stub of a cigar protruded from his lips. Even in the dim room, he was wearing dark glasses. Bedclothes draped an old cot, a pillow hanging off the edge. The only other furniture on the dirt floor was a couple of derelict chairs. Heavy rain continued blowing through the door Sam had left ajar.
“We brought you something,” Mama said, handing him the bottle of wine.
Sam removed the cork, took a swig, and then plopped down on the cot.
“Not bad,” he said. “I was wondering how long it would take you to return to the graveyard.”
“Pardon my skepticism,” Taj said. “I was born, but I wasn’t born yesterday. This is starting to feel like a setup.”
