Dead Souls Volume Three (Parts 27 to 39)

by Amy Cross

  “I'm not accusing you of anything,” Kate replied, trying to stay calm, “I just... I was just wondering what happened to you during the night?”

  “I already told you! Nothing happened!”

  “So why were you -” She paused, realizing that if she went ahead and asked her directly about the shovel and the dirt, she'd effectively be accusing her of murder. “Nothing,” she said finally. “I'm sorry, I guess I was just putting two and two together and getting five.”

  “I had the shovel because I was planting vegetables,” Jennifer continued, “and I was doing it at dawn because I couldn't sleep last night, which you might have known if you hadn't been up at Edgar Le Compte's party. Some of us don't go to fancy parties, you know. Some of us just work all day and all night!”

  “It wasn't exactly a party,” Kate replied, “not by the end.”

  “Whatever. You don't know me, Kate, not really, so don't go judging me or trying to second-guess everything I do. You have no idea what my life's like or how I have to organize things so I can get it all done. So what if I sometimes get up before dawn and go to get some chores finished? That's my right!”

  “I'm sorry, I -”

  “And now I have to go and check on my daughter,” Jennifer continued, heading through to the rear of the store. “Keep an eye on the store, will you? After that, if you're still suspicious of me, feel free to pack your bags and get out of here.”

  Kate opened her mouth to reply, but she held back as she watched Jennifer heading into the kitchen. Although she still couldn't quite believe Jennifer's claim about planting vegetables, she felt she wasn't in a position to start throwing accusations around, and she didn't want to believe that the woman was capable of murdering someone. There was also the matter of Anna to consider: if Jennifer was arrested for murder, she knew the little girl would most likely be shipped off to an orphanage somewhere.

  Figuring that her best bet was to keep quiet and just observe for a while, she began to re-open the store.

  ***

  A couple of hours later, having been sent out to fetch some items from the post office, Kate found herself crossing the street outside the cantina and making her way across the town square. The war memorial hadn't been built yet, so she went straight across the middle, heading for the post office on the far side.

  “You're an idiot!” an angry male voice called out nearby. “For God's sake, Benjamin, when are you going to lighten up?”

  Stopping, Kate watched as a man stormed out of a nearby building and made a beeline straight for the cantina, storming through the door. Turning back to look at the other building, Kate spotted Benjamin emerging and dropping a pile of wood onto the floor, before heading inside again. Figuring that she had a little time to spare, she made her way across the cobbles and stopped in the doorway, from where she could see Benjamin working on some kind of industrial stove.

  “Hey,” she said after a moment.

  Turning to her, Benjamin seemed exasperated. “What do you want?” he asked. “My father handles the orders, so you need to speak to him if that's what you're after.”

  “Is this a bad time?”

  “Every time's a bad time when my useless brother has been messing things up,” he muttered, grabbing a copper plate and taking it over to one of the machines. “Listen, if you want to ask me about Tarud being dug up earlier, I really don't think I -”

  “It's not about him,” Kate replied, “it's about Madeleine.”

  At this, Benjamin paused for a moment, before glancing over at her. “What about her?”

  “How do you know her?”

  “How do you know her?” he replied. “No, wait... You're the woman who's supposed to have come from the future, aren't you? People have been talking about the mysterious Kate Langley, although I've got to tell you, no-one believes a word of your story.”

  “I wouldn't either,” Kate told him, “if I hadn't lived it.”

  “So let me guess,” he continued, “you're going to try to convince me that you know Madeleine from the future, aren't you?”

  “Actually, no,” Kate replied, “I had very little contact with Madeleine in the future. A few words here and there, but I only ever saw her with her bandages.”

  “Bandages?”

  “Never mind.” She paused. “To be honest, I spent a lot more time with her brother.”

  “Well I'm sure that was a lot of fun for you.”

  “I need to ask you something,” she continued, reaching into her pocket and taking out a piece of paper, before heading over to one of the workbenches and grabbing a pencil. “I need to know if you recognize this symbol.”

  “I don't have time to waste on -”

  “Please,” she added, as she drew the pointed star with the letters E, M, K, J and E on the points and the letter B in the center. “I can't explain much, so don't even ask, but please just tell me if you've ever seen this before.” Holding the piece of paper up, she waited as he made his way over to take a closer look. “You have no idea how important this is.”

  “What the hell is it?” he asked, taking the paper from her hand.

  “It's a symbol I saw carved into... Well, into something. I'm starting to think that...” She paused, realizing that she was in danger of saying too much. “I think the letters are names,” she continued. “In fact I'm almost sure of it, they definitely represent names.”

  “Let me guess,” he replied, “the B is supposed to be Benjamin?” He smiled, before seeing from the expression on her face that she was serious. “And what about the others?” he asked. “E twice, that could be, what, Edgar and Estella? K would be you, M... I suppose you think that's Madeleine. What about the J? My brother's name is Joshua.”

  “Or there's Nixon,” she suggested. “James Nixon.”

  “And Jennifer Kazakos,” he added, “and Joe Barnes, the lighthouse keeper. And if you need another E, there's Evangeline Mediaci and Eva Shaw, and probably others too.”

  “See?” she replied. “The list of potential candidates isn't exactly small.”

  “Huh.” He stared at the drawing for a moment. “It's kind of freaky, but it doesn't mean anything. For all I know, you plucked the whole thing out of thin air. Besides, the six names I just came up with aren't exactly six people who are very friendly. Put the six of us into a room and I don't think things would go so well.”

  “It's just a theory,” Kate pointed out. “I have very little to go on. To be honest, I was hoping it'd mean something to you.”

  “I'm not really into supernatural things,” he replied. “The whole five-pointed star, and all that witchcraft stuff... It's all just rubbish.”

  Kate stared at him for a moment. “You do realize that Madeleine Le Compte is -”

  “I know what she is,” he said firmly, cutting her off, “but that doesn't mean I believe in the rest of the idiotic ideas people talk about. I believe things that are right in front of me, but apart from that...”

  “What about me?” she asked. “I'm right in front of you, and my story sounds kind of crazy. Do you believe I come from the future?”

  “I believe...” He paused, eying her with suspicion. “I believe I'm withholding judgment on that one. I also believe it's not really any of my business.”

  “You're the first person who hasn't asked me to tell them what happens in a century's time,” she added.

  “That's none of my business either,” he replied, taking a copper plate and slipping it into one of the machines. “I'll be dead and buried by then, along with most of the people on this island. I also happen to believe that my future is still wide open, and that I can decide what happens, so I don't need someone telling me that I'm heading to some particular fate on rails as if there's nothing I can do to change it. Anyway, the whole Madeleine Le Compte thing... that's over now. I'm out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she's nothing to do with me. I'm just a normal guy doing a normal job on this crazy island, and all that other stuff that
happens around the Le Comptes... Leave me out of it.”

  “But if -”

  “And now I have to get back to work,” he added. “I'm sorry, Ms. Langley, but I can't help you with that weird symbol and I don't think you can help me with any of my problems. Not unless you know how to get dents out of copper, because frankly, that's the only thing that's bothering me right now.”

  IV

  “Hey,” Jennifer said as she heard someone entering the rear of the store, “Kate, listen, I'm sorry about earlier. I was just tense and a little worked up.” She turned. “It's like -”

  Stopping suddenly, she saw that Edgar Le Compte was standing in the doorway.

  “Kate's not here,” she said quickly, trying to hide her fear.

  “Good,” he replied calmly.

  “Good? What...” She paused, already trying to work out how to defend herself. “What do you want? You can just take anything from the store, anything you like, there's no charge -”

  “Really?” Edgar replied, taking a couple of steps forward. “If that's the case, then however do you expect to make money?”

  “It's just free for you,” she continued, “that's all, I mean... I...”

  “Where is your daughter?”

  “Why?”

  “Is she nearby?”

  “She's upstairs.”

  “That's for the best,” he said, making his way over to the counter. “I think you know why I'm here.”

  “No,” she replied, her voice already trembling with fear, “I don't. I mean, I don't think I do. I mean... I...”

  “There are people on this island who can, perhaps, keep secrets from me,” he told her. “You are not one of them. Please, Mrs. Kazakos, don't even begin to consider the possibility of trying to lie to me, because I can already hear your heart pounding in your chest, and that's not purely because you're scared of me. You're also scared that I'm going to expose your dirty little secret.”

  “What secret? I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Why did you kill the police inspector?”

  “I...”

  “No lies,” he said firmly. “Tell me the truth.”

  “It was an accident,” she continued, “you have to believe me.”

  “I do.”

  “He came here last night, he tried to...” She paused, thinking back to the moment when she'd been forcibly bent over the table. “No-one will ever believe me,” she whispered finally. “They'll hang me from a lamppost.”

  “I believe you,” Edgar replied.

  “You don't even know me.”

  “I know more about this island than anyone suspects,” he continued. “I admit that I had paid no attention to Inspector Tarud before today, but I have already learned enough to understand that the man was not good, and that the people of Thaxos are probably better off without him. I have no idea what the next police representative will be like, but he can hardly be worse.”

  “I still...” She paused, feeling an unexpected sense of relief now that her secret was out. “I hit him with the coffeepot,” she said finally, reliving the moment over and over again. “It was just instinct, I wanted to make him stop.”

  “It was self-defense,” Edgar pointed out. “You had every right.”

  “I'm still a murderer.”

  “No,” he replied, “you're not. You killed a man, but that doesn't make you a murderer. Burying the body in the olive grove was a good move, though. I doubt he would ever have been found if I hadn't directed your daughter to start digging him up.”

  “You did that?”

  “I have ways of persuading people to do what I want.”

  “She's just a child.”

  “She has a strong soul, I'm sure she'll take it all in her stride.” He paused for a moment, eying her with caution. “The rest of the people on this island, unfortunately, are less forgiving. They're angry, and if they find out that you're responsible for Inspector Tarud's death, they'll want blood in return. At the very least, they'll demand that you're put on trial, which would inevitably result in the death penalty and a date with the noose. I suspect, however, that many of them would prefer to bypass such formalities and as you suggested a moment ago, merely hang you from the nearest lamppost.”

  “Please,” she replied, with tears in her eyes, “my daughter can't -”

  “I said if they find out,” he added, “which they won't.”

  “But -”

  “I'm in charge right now,” he continued, making his way to the window, “and I choose to deal with this matter in my own way.”

  “I should pay for my crimes,” she told him. “You can't just let me off.”

  “The way Inspector Tarud paid for his crimes?” He turned to her. “I've been looking through the police station's archive and carrying out a few investigations of my own. It seems that several people met their deaths in those cells, including, I believe, your husband.”

  “His name was Adam,” she replied, feeling a shiver pass through her body at his mention.

  “I never said,” he continued, “that it was my intention to let you off. You will pay for what you did to Inspector Tarud, but not by hanging or by being publicly shamed, nor by seeing your daughter being carted off to an orphanage on the mainland.” He took a step closer. “I am going to cover up your involvement in this sordid little incident, Mrs. Kazakos, and in return you are going to owe me a favor.”

  “Anything,” she replied, “but -”

  “Not just any favor,” he added, interrupting her, “but a favor that you cannot refuse to grant.”

  “Name it.”

  He made his way around her, as if he needed to see her from every angle. “I don't know what the favor will be yet,” he said finally, “nor do I know when I shall need it. All I know is that one day I will come to you and ask you for something, something important, and you will do whatever I tell you.”

  “Of course, and -”

  “Regardless,” he added firmly, interrupting her, “of your personal feelings.”

  She stared at him, seeing the concern in his eyes.

  “You will not under any circumstances be able to refuse me this favor,” he told her, “even if it seems to you to be the most heinous thing in the world, even if you think that it will destroy you. You will not argue with me, you will not beg, you will not try to change the terms of our deal. When I come to you on that day and ask for the favor you owe me, you will simply get on with doing what I want. Is that clear?”

  “Yes,” she replied cautiously, “but... I mean, can you give me a clue...”

  “No. Let us simply say that there are no limits.”

  She took a deep breath, fully aware that Edgar was deadly serious. “No limits,” she said finally. “Sure. Whatever you want, it'll be yours.”

  “I should warn you,” he continued, holding out a hand, “that you might regret this decision. It's entirely possible that the favor will, in fact, prove to be a far worse fate than being hung from a lamppost in the town square.”

  “All I care about is my daughter,” she stammered, wiping tears from her eyes. “As long as you don't hurt her...”

  “She is not the one who is in my debt,” he replied, “and whatever I use you for, it will have nothing to do with your child.”

  “You have my word,” she told him, trying in vain to keep her voice from trembling, “that when you come and ask for this favor, whatever it turns out to be, I'll give it to you.” Reaching out, she shook his hand. “May God have mercy on my soul.”

  “Why do people often say that after shaking my hand?” he asked with a faint smile. “Anyone would think I'm Satan himself.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. “For helping me, I mean. What... What are you going to do about Inspector Tarud? People are still going to want to know who killed him.”

  “Let me deal with that,” he said calmly. “I feel certain that an opportunity to deal with that matter will arise before too long. For now, you must get on with your normal l
ife and -” Stopping suddenly, he looked down at one of the boxes of fruit, and after a moment he picked up a pomegranate. “I would like to purchase a box of these,” he said finally. “I shall send a man down later to pick them up, if that is okay with you. He'll come after dark.”

  “Of course,” she said, watching as he reached into his pocket. “No charge, of course!”

  “I always pay for what I take,” he replied, dropping some coins onto the counter. “If there is any excess, please accept it as a sign of my gratitude.” Heading to the door, he pushed it open and then glanced back at her. “Remember, when I eventually need a favor from you, you must oblige.”

  “I will.”

  “And make sure you're around tonight when my man arrives to collect the box of pomegranates,” he added. “Don't get Kate to deal with him. It must be you.”

  She nodded, before watching as he made his way outside. Once he was out of sight, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Hurrying through to the bathroom, she examined her hands and saw that there was still a small amount of blood and dirt under her fingernails. Filled with desperation, she grabbed a scrubbing brush and got to work.

  ***

  As he moved along the street, Edgar became increasingly aware that people were staying out of his way. Up ahead, a group of children had gathered on the corner, but as soon as they spotted him getting closer they scattered like crows, leaving him to cross the road and walk along the side of the cantina.

  Reaching the town square, he stopped and looked around for a moment, breathing in the calm sea air that blew in from the Mediterranean. Seconds later, a group of rowdy drunks emerged from a nearby door, but they seemed to immediately sober up as they saw that the great Baron Le Compte was so close. Each muttering a brief apology, they turned and headed away, leaving Edgar to pause for a moment, amused by the fear he struck so easily into the hearts of the locals.

  And then he heard, in the back of his mind, a familiar scream. Turning to look up toward his mansion, he realized that Madeleine was in pain, but although his first instinct was to rush to her, he knew that there was little he could do to help, not unless...