Ava screamed as they set about their work. She ran at them, beating her fists against them, trying to grab their weapons, but the men threw her aside.
After they’d finished, the clinic looked like a slaughterhouse.
Ava retched. One of the men shoved her and she fell to the floor, her face in her hands.
Finally the leader came back over to her, smiling again. The bloody hammer was held at his side. He leaned in close to her before speaking. “Thanks for your help,” he said. “I guess you can go home now. If anyone asks who did this, tell them it was the Templeton Brothers.” Ava watched him go, the big white rat clearly visible on the back of his leather vest. He laughed as he walked away, still rubbing the top of his head with his palm.
Over the sound of her sobs, Ava heard the men leave the building. Steam engines roared back to life. The van rolled away, the sound of animals crying inside. Ava curled into a ball and waited. She was still sobbing hysterically when the constables arrived.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Roman Street, Tremé, New Orleans.
When Ava had eventually calmed down, Ida, who had arrived with the constables, took her home.
Denise had already been taken to the hospital. The constables had said that her injuries weren’t as bad as they looked, and she stood a good chance of making a full recovery.
The animals would never recover, however.
Before they left the animal clinic, though, Ida had made Ava a hot cup of tea, and then Ava had answered all of her questions as best she could.
The whole thing was senseless. And yet it had clearly been no random attack. Those men had moved with purpose. They had planned it, and executed their plans ruthlessly.
Now the animals were dead, or taken, and Denise would likely be in the hospital for some time. The clinic would be closed for the foreseeable future.
Ava could do nothing more.
“It’s not that far,” Ava told her when Ida offered to take the girl home in her carriage. “I could easily walk.”
“Absolutely not,” Ida said. “I can’t let you walk around the streets alone in your state. You’re in shock. You need to go home and rest. And you need to take care of yourself and stay safe.”
Ava nodded. Safe. She had thought that the animals were safe in their cages. She couldn’t have been more wrong. “Do you think those men might come back?” she asked. “Or come looking for me? I don’t think they meant me any harm, or even Denise, really. She just got in their way. If they’d wanted to hurt me, they could have done it back at the clinic.”
“At this stage we don’t know what they meant to do, or what their motives were. I think you’ll be safe enough at home, but you should be on the lookout for anything unusual.”
Ava nodded. Ida had told her that someone would come by in the next day or so, to see if she needed any help in coming to terms with the attack. Apparently people could suffer delayed shock and need support later, even if they felt okay at the time.
Ava didn’t feel okay. She didn’t feel anything.
She’d grown up on the streets of Back of Town, and thought she knew how to take care of herself. She’d seen knife attacks and muggings take place in broad daylight. But never had she experienced anything like this.
She was barely aware of the journey home, but suddenly they were outside her house on Roman Street. Ida’s driver deftly maneuvered the carriage onto the side of the road. “Come on,” Ida said. “I’ll come inside with you and explain to your parents what happened.”
“Okay,” Ava said. She was glad that Ida had brought her home. “Thanks for everything.”
Ida gave her a reassuring smile. The Dispatches’ tough exterior melted briefly and Ava caught a glimpse of something softer inside. But Ida didn’t let her soft side show for long. “Just part of the job,” she said.
When Ava got out of the car, she was surprised to find Anton Sardis waiting by the front gate, with Smokey Donaldson of all people. Anton was standing tall and seemed to be in charge. Smokey’s usual swagger had all but drained away.
“We were looking for you,” Anton said. “Something bad has happened.”
Ava looked at him in confusion. “You mean at the animal clinic?”
“No,” Anton said. “At school, on Friday.” He seemed to suddenly notice Ava’s disheveled appearance, and the fact that she was being escorted by some authoritative-looking woman. “Are you in some kind of trouble?” he asked.
Ida joined her then. “You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid, boys. Ava has been involved in a serious incident and needs to rest.” She took hold of Ava’s arm and walked her up to her front door.
“Oh, my God,” Smokey said. “Did someone try to eat her?”
Anton elbowed him into silence.
“What did you say?” Ida demanded.
“Nothing.”
Ava stared at him. “What did you mean when you said that something bad had happened at school?”
“Nothing,” Smokey repeated. “We didn’t mean nothing.”
“What happened to you two on Friday?” Ava asked. “I didn’t see you after you went to the Principal’s office.”
“I think you’d better come in and tell us all about it,” Ida said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
As Ida had expected, Ava’s parents were horrified at what had happened, but Ida was experienced at calming people down. “Your daughter’s had a very frightening experience, but she hasn’t been harmed. In fact she’s coping extremely well, and I’m sure that she’ll be just fine in a day or two.”
In fact, Ava had shown remarkable self-control under the circumstances, giving a detailed account of the incident, and helping the constables, Black Dispatches and Ida understand exactly what had happened. She was clearly still in a state of shock, but Ida felt sure she’d quickly get over it. “What Ava needs now is some rest, and perhaps a couple of days at home. I’m sure the school will understand.”
Ava’s mother nodded. She could have been Ava’s much older twin, if that was possible, her face like a round, freckled moon, her hair a mass of reddish-brown curls. She had rallied quickly after the initial shock, and had then supplied all the children with a hot mug of tea and Ida and herself with café au lait.
Ida sipped hers while sitting in the front room opposite Ava and her parents. Smokey and Anton sat on the sofa beside her.
“What will happen now?” Ava’s father asked. “Will Ava need to give evidence?”
“She’s already given a detailed statement, including a good description of the men and their vehicles,” Ida said. “She’s a very calm and collected young woman. There’s a good chance we’ll catch the men and recover the surviving animals safely, too.”
“If they’re still alive,” Smokey said.
Anton elbowed him again, and Smokey shut up.
“And if they’re caught?” Ava’s father continued. “Will Ava need to give evidence in court?”
“It’s possible,” Ida said. “Since she’s over thirteen, she would be required to give evidence under oath, but if she has any concerns, she can wear a mask in court.”
Her father nodded.
“Mr. and Mrs. L’Esperance,” Ida said, addressing Ava’s parents. “Would you mind if I spoke to Anton and Smokey alone?”
“Of course not,” Ava’s mother said. She stood up to leave. “Ava, you come with us.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like Ava to stay, too,” Ida said. “It’s possible she might be able to help.”
Concern registered on Mrs. L’Esperance’s face briefly, but then she nodded, and then she and her husband left, pulling the door to the front room closed behind them.
Anton and Smokey sat huddled together on the sofa, looking anxiously around the room. Smokey seemed to have developed a sudden strong interest in the picture hanging above the fireplace—a painting of a saber-wielding Harriet Tubman doing battle with an automaton with limbs driven by a steam engine on its back and a rebel flag on its chest. The two
boys made an unlikely pair—one sitting quietly, his clothes neat, his hair well-groomed, his glasses lending him a studious air; the other fidgeting nervously, his pants ripped, his hair shorn close to his skull, the kind of boy Ida often encountered late at night while on patrol with John Scobell, pretending to be tough, giving them some lip before running away.
She spoke to them gently. “Now boys, please tell me what you came to say to Ava.”
Anton cleared his throat and opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Smokey gazed at his shoes.
“About what happened at school yesterday,” Ida prompted.
The boys exchanged glances.
“It’s going to sound really stupid,” Anton said at last. “Especially after what just happened to Ava.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Ida said. “Smokey, you asked if someone had tried to eat Ava. Why?”
“Because Mr. Howard ate Marcel,” Smokey blurted out.
“What?” Ava said. She looked at Anton for confirmation.
He nodded. “It’s true, whether you believe it or not. We heard it.”
“Heard it?” Ida said. “Okay, you’d better explain everything from the beginning. Who is Marcel, and who is this Mr. Howard?”
Anton told most of the story, with Smokey interrupting now and again with additional details.
After they had finished, Ava said, “Tu deves plaisanter.”
“No, not joking at all, Smokey said. “Honest to God, it’s all true.”
“Tell me again about the eyes,” Ida said. That was the part of the story that had grabbed her attention. She remembered clearly the yellow film that had formed over John Scobell’s eyes in the hospital. She had noticed the same yellow sheen in Robert’s eyes when she’d visited him. And both had spent a week in Intensive Care with a severe infection after being bitten. Too much of a coincidence to be casually dismissed, even if one had been bitten by a man and the other by a rat.
“His eyes were bright yellow,” Anton said. “That’s how I knew. Everyone who got ill and came back, their eyes were always yellow. The same with Mr. Howard. His eyes turned yellow just before he killed Marcel.”
“And you didn’t see anything of the attack, but you heard biting sounds?”
“Yeah,” Smokey said. “We were waiting in the corridor right outside the office. Either one of us could have gone in first, instead of Marcel.” His face had turned pale brown. “Biting, chewing… it was disgusting. I got sick all over my shoes.”
Anton nodded.
“Tell me,” Ida said. “You all go to Audubon High School, don’t you?
Ava nodded; the boys did too.
“Did you know a teacher named Mr. Celestin?”
“He taught us Earth Sciences,” Ava said.
“Yeah,” Smokey said. “Until he went mad and—”
“Exactly,” Anton said. “Mr. Celestin was the first to change. How do you know him?”
“I was there on Halloween when he attacked the children,” Ida said. “He bit a man named Robert.” She pictured the scene in her mind. The terrified children screaming for help, Robert holding onto the hilt of the kitchen knife like he was never letting go—and slumped in the doorway, looking like a madman, even in near-death, Mr. Celestin, Head of Earth Sciences at Audubon High School. An inspirational teacher by all accounts.
“Did he have yellow eyes, too?” asked Anton.
Ida shook her head. “He had already lost consciousness when I arrived. His eyes were closed. But I’ve seen others… they all had yellow eyes.”
“It’s some kind of disease, ain’t it?” Smokey said. “You gotta believe us now!”
“Had Mr. Howard been off school sick before this happened?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Smokey said. “He was away at the same time as Mr. Celestin. He came back to school last week.”
Ida studied the boys’ faces carefully. Their story was fantastical, unbelievable. A cannibalistic school principal? Yet they seemed sincere about it. And the yellow eyes tied in with what she had seen herself.
Circumstantial evidence, a lawyer would say to that. Unreliable witnesses, too, and the case would be laughed out of court. They were probably just telling her what she wanted to hear. But after the so-called “Ripper” killings—that’s what law enforcement was calling them; speculation of an American Jack the Ripper was rampant—she couldn’t afford to dismiss their story.
“Wait here a few minutes,” she said. “I’m going to the telegrapher. Then I’ll be back.”
It didn’t take long for her to ride to the nearest telegraph operator and send a message to the Tremé’s constabulary headquarters. A message came back quickly, confirming that a boy called Marcel Jean-Baptiste had been reported missing by his father that morning. ‘It seems that when he didn’t come home from school yesterday, his parents just assumed that he was out with friends’, the message read. Anyway, when he still hadn’t returned this morning, they decided to contact us. So far that’s all we know. You got anything to report?’
‘Not yet,’ Ida had the telegrapher type. ‘I’ll let you know if I find anything.’
She rode back inside the house. The children looked at her expectantly.
“So what now?” Smokey asked. “Can you arrest Mr. Howard?”
Ida shook her head. “At this stage there’s no evidence even that Marcel is dead, and certainly nothing to link him to a murderous principal.”
“But—” Smokey began.
Ida held up her hand, interrupting him. “Now, here’s the thing. If I request a warrant to search your Principal’s office for evidence that he’s eaten one of his students, I’m going to be hauled in front of my boss and given a very hard time. He’s going to want to know whether I’ve been over-working, or if I’m pulling his leg. You understand?”
The children nodded. She’d most likely find herself on sick leave at best, or even fired from her convenient assignment as a consultant for the Black Dispatches.
“But since the first part of your story checks out, and because of certain things I’ve seen myself, this is what I’m willing to do—we’ll ride over to the school now and take a look through the window, see if we can see anything unusual in Mr. Howard’s office. How does that sound?”
“Good,” Anton and Smokey said in unison.
“Ava, you’d better stay here. The last thing your parents will want is for you to go running off on some mad search.”
“No,” Ava said. “I want to come.”
“Sorry,” Ida said. “I’m already going out on a limb. I don’t want any more bother from anyone, so you stay here. We’ll tell you what we find, if anything.”
“Okay,” Ava said. “But please, let me know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Audubon High School.
Ida’s driver drove the carriage through the open gates of the school and parked it in the visitors’ area. She looked out at the school building through the carriage’s window. It looked so ordinary. It was hard to imagine that a boy had been murdered there, let alone eaten by his principal. Ida wondered what on earth she was doing on such a crazy goose chase.
The yellow eyes, she reminded herself.
“That’s the window to Mr. Howard’s office,” Anton said, pointing. “The ground floor window on the left.”
Ida ran her gaze along the row of windows, following the line of Anton’s raised finger. The end window looked the same as all the others—flaky paint, slightly dirty, yet uncovered by blinds or other obstructions. All they had to do was look inside.
“Come on. Let’s go,” Smokey said, opening the door of the carriage.
Ida followed the boys across the parking area to the window. She glanced around, but they seemed to be alone. It was the weekend, but that didn’t mean the school would be completely empty. There might be a caretaker on duty. She wasn’t sure what she would say if someone challenged her to explain what they were doing, other than the fact that a boy had been reported missing.
&
nbsp; Smokey and Anton were already peering in through the window.
“Can you see anything?” she asked nervously. If it followed the pattern of the other recent killings, the half-eaten body of Marcel Jean-Baptiste would be lying there for all to see.
“It’s a bit dark,” Anton said.
“Let me see.” She pushed up to the window, treading on some spindly perennial plants that grew close to the wall of the building. The Principal’s office was dim inside, but she could see well enough to form an overall impression.
An old-fashioned wooden desk commanded the room. Several pieces of sharpened chalk and three slate tablets were neatly arranged on its green leather top. The Principal’s chair was positioned below the window, giving the head of the school a clear view of the door opposite him.
Ida pressed her face to the glass to see what lay beyond the desk. A bookcase stood beside the door, and next to that a small table and chairs. A coat stand completed the furniture.
There was no body on the floor, no blood on the walls, no sign of any struggle or fight.
“I don’t understand,” Anton said. “We heard him eat Marcel.”
Ida stepped away from the window, hoping the plant she’d trodden on would make a recovery. “Come on, boys. Back to the carriage.”
They followed in her wake, their protests ringing loudly in her ears.
“We heard it,” repeated Anton.
“The bastard must have cleaned up the mess,” Smokey said. “Can’t you go in there and check closer?”
“Not without a search warrant. And for that we need evidence.” Ida felt as disappointed as the boys, but she couldn’t show them that. She’d really expected to find the remains of a half-eaten body in that room. She shook her head, as if to banish the absurd idea that had taken root there. A grown woman of her experience should never have been taken in by such a foolish notion.
Back in the car, she said, “I’m not saying I don’t believe you. You heard something. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t your friend Marcel being eaten.”
Gunsmoke Blues Page 11
