Swamp spirits, p.22
Swamp Spirits, page 22
“What?”
“I can’t believe it!”
“No way!”
“I did not see that one coming!”
We all responded at once.
“It’s true,” Clotilde said. “Celine caught him red-handed, so to speak. We used to sneak out of the house when we were bored, and one time we hid in bushes, watching a group of women at a birthday party. A woman was on the patio showing off her new necklace to her friends. It was a pretty setting with rings of silver and gold and an emerald in the center. A couple years later, that woman was one of the many who called on Lucien, and one night, Celine walked into his room without announcing herself and found him hunched over his desk. He was crafting a necklace exactly like the one we’d seen.”
“The bracelet,” I said and pulled it out and showed it to Clotilde. “We found this in the secret cubby in Celine’s room. It’s a replication of one that recently sold at auction for a large amount.”
Clotilde took the bracelet and turned it over in her hands. “I remember this piece. Remember when Celine hid it in her stuffed bear and tucked it away in the wall.”
“So you’re saying Lucien was flirting with these women in order to steal their jewelry,” I said. “And no one was the wiser because he was replacing the original pieces with well-crafted fakes.”
“That’s exactly right,” Clotilde said. “It was his job, you see, back in France. He was a top jewelry maker for Cartier. But he drew suspicion when he spent too much time with the local society wives. By the time people caught on that it was the jewelry he was after and not the women, he was quite wealthy from his take and fled the country.”
“And he told Celine all of this?” I asked.
Clotilde nodded. “There was little reason to lie any longer. And by then, Lucien’s mind had started to wander. He was often out of sorts, like his grip on sanity was vanishing. Once Celine knew about the jewels, she knew money wasn’t the problem, not really. He needed only to sell what he’d stolen and could be quite rich again, but I think he was too far gone to follow through.”
“You think he was ill?” Gertie asked.
“Yes,” she said. “In today’s time, I’m sure they would have diagnosed him with a mental illness. Paranoid schizophrenia perhaps, but the knowledge of such things was very limited then, and with the shortage of doctors and Lucien becoming a recluse, there wasn’t much hope for a medical solution.”
“So the rumors of jewelry hidden at the estate were true,” Ronald said.
“I’m not sure what the rumors were, but Lucien definitely had a collection of very expensive pieces,” Clotilde said. “Is that what this is all about? Someone believes the jewelry is still there and is trying to find it?”
“We can’t think of any other reason for what’s been happening,” I said. “And I can’t believe it’s a coincidence that the intruder who was killed was a relative of Lovelie’s.”
“No,” Clotilde said. “I wouldn’t think it coincidence either.”
“Did Lovelie know about Lucien? About the jewels?” I asked. “Did she ever contact her family after leaving New Orleans?”
“I don’t know. Celine was young when her mother passed and wouldn’t have known the answer to either question. I suppose anything is possible, but if the Charitte family suspected the jewels were still contained on the estate, why wait until now to try to find them?”
I put my hands up. “That’s the same question we have. Something had to have set it all into motion, but we have no idea what it was. And then there’s the issue of the tunnels as well. We have to assume Lovelie knew about them and if she had any contact with her family, then I suppose she could have told them. I assume Celine knew.”
“Of course,” Clotilde said. “Lucien kept them hidden for many years by simply not using them, but we discovered the access in the tutor’s room one day. We were being naughty and going through her things, so we hid in the closet and knocked open the panel at the back accidentally. We immediately went in and followed them all around, but we never told Lucien, or anyone else for that matter.”
“Is it true that Lovelie committed suicide? Because there are rumors that her father killed her,” Ida Belle asked.
Clotilde frowned. “I don’t know if it was suicide or an accident, but all I know is what the servants said and it was years after the fact when I arrived at the estate. They all said Lovelie had bouts of depression that were worse after Celine was born, but they also said she never learned to swim.”
“So it could have been an accident,” Gertie said.
“We’ll never know,” Clotilde said, “but Celine believed it was an accident and I believed it along with her because that’s what she wanted.”
“You were a good friend,” Gertie said.
Clotilde smiled. “The best.”
“So what happened to the jewels?” I asked.
“We sold them, of course,” Clotilde said. “One of the boys in town—a nephew of that awful sheriff—warned me that the sheriff was going to get a warrant for Celine’s arrest. We knew we had to leave soon, so we collected every piece of jewelry from Lucien’s hiding places. Then Celine made a beautiful gown and went to the charity ball to find buyers.”
We all stared and I started laughing. “Oh my God. It makes perfect sense.”
“It really does,” Ronald said. “And yet it’s like a fairy tale.”
Clotilde nodded. “Celine got the buyers and sold the jewels. We saw someone who could get us documents and then Celine disappeared. I stuck around long enough to report her missing and then we left for Paris, ready for our big adventure. And that’s exactly what we had.”
“Incredible,” I said.
She sighed. “It was a good life. Better than we could have ever imagined.”
“Did Celine ever return to Louisiana?” I asked.
“No. She was afraid, you see. There’s no statute of limitations on murder and it wasn’t as if you could call the police and ask if you were wanted without raising some eyebrows. And the reality is, there was nothing left for her here. Our lives were in France.”
“But you came back,” Gertie said.
“After Celine died, I found myself wistful for the bayous I’d left behind. I wanted to see the marsh grass and the alligators and feel the humidity and taste the food again. I wanted my life to come full circle. I think, if Celine hadn’t been worried about the risk, she would have wanted it as well.”
That evening, I filled Carter in on our interviews while I changed clothes and packed what I needed to spring our trap. He was floored by what Clotilde had told us.
“You think she’s on the up-and-up?” he asked.
I nodded. “I didn’t detect any dishonesty and really, why would she lie? Lucien stole the jewelry and he’s long dead and even if he wasn’t, the jewelry’s long gone so how would you prove it? And if Celine was still alive, she could claim she didn’t know they were stolen. Selling something you inherited isn’t a crime. There’s just no reason for Clotilde to make it up.”
“Yeah, even our ADA wouldn’t want to pursue charges against a hundred-year-old woman, even if he could. Well, it answers a lot of questions. Between the jeweler and Clotilde, we know where the jewels rumor came from, but it’s strange that there was never a dustup when people started discovering the fakes.”
“I mentioned that on our way home and Ida Belle and Gertie had a theory for it. They suggested that given the quality of the replacements, no one would have known unless they went to sell the jewelry. If it was a wife or children selling, then they would have simply thought the husband had passed off fakes as the real thing when they were gifted.”
“And if the man went to sell them?”
“Then he’d assume he’d been taken by a clever jeweler. Either way, none of those people would go around broadcasting what happened.”
Carter nodded. “Because they’d be too embarrassed. The whole thing is ingenious really.”
“Yeah, I just wish we had a way to spread the truth that the jewels were sold off a long time ago.”
“Maybe when we catch our thieves, I can release a statement that says during the course of my investigation, information came to light that revealed that the jewelry existed at one time but that Celine sold it and used the money to move overseas, where she remained the rest of her life.”
“That would work,” I said. “Clotilde said that neither she nor Celine told their story to anyone, not even their husbands, so there’s no one to contradict it. I think it was cathartic for her, finally telling someone what happened.”
“I’m glad Clotilde was still alive to answer all our questions. This one would have bugged me all the way to the grave.”
“Definitely. Are you ready?”
“Yep. I stored my stuff in the boat earlier today. What about the Trouble Twosome? I don’t suppose you convinced them to sit this one out?”
“It would have been a waste of energy to even try. They’re going to sneak out of their houses and meet Mannie near the park. He got an old truck with a camper cover on the bed so it will blend well with the locals and they can’t be seen in the back. They’ll pass the main road to the house, hide the vehicle in the brush, then cross the woods to stake out the front of the house. Right now, Cassidy and Harrison are having an early dinner at Francine’s so they can be seen by the locals and spread the word about staying at my place until things are sorted at theirs. Scooter volunteered to put the word out at the Swamp Bar.”
Carter laughed. “I bet he did. It’s dollar beer and wet T-shirt night.”
“And you know these things, how?” I asked, teasing.
“Whiskey lets me know anytime there’s something special going on. That way, dispatch isn’t surprised by the higher call volume.”
My cell signaled an incoming text.
“Harrison and Cassidy are on their way,” I said. “I’ve left a tiny crack in the blinds and Cassidy will move around the house, turning different lights on and off. With all our cars in the driveway, anyone watching will think we’re here. Harrison will cover the tunnel entry in the woods and you and I will access the house from the tunnels.”
“What about lighting?”
“Cassidy left some lights on inside in the main areas, so that will carry through some of the downstairs and the upstairs landing. The blinds and curtains are all drawn so no one should be able to see us moving around if we’re not using light.”
He nodded. “I figure they’re going to enter at either the point closest to where they want to go or the first stop-off, so either the library or the south bedroom, if we assume they were going to search upstairs last time. Which do you want to cover?”
“I’ll take upstairs. I’ve been in the house more and can maneuver the layout better in the dark.”
“Sounds good. They’re pulling in.”
We headed downstairs and I opened the door and let them in, then we all traipsed out to Harrison’s truck to grab some bags and leftover containers from their vehicle. If anyone had eyes on my house, then they had a clear view of all of us in residence. When we got back inside, Harrison, Carter, and I dispersed to change into black clothes and then we were ready to go. Nightfall was just minutes away. We could only hope that we got to the house before the intruder did.
We reconvened in my bedroom and I opened up the hidden attic access in my closet. Harrison gave me a nod of approval.
“Nice,” he said. “I was thinking about something similar when we put in the contract on our house, but clearly, all the work was done for me. Unfortunately, I’ve got to figure out how to keep people from coming in instead.”
“I think we’re going to solve that problem tonight,” I said and climbed up into the attic.
We crossed the attic, exited out the window and into the oak tree, then traversed the giant oak onto Ronald’s roof. He’d been warned ahead of time not to open fire when he heard noise. On the other side of Ronald’s house was another accessible oak and we scurried down, then made our way to the dock where the boat was stashed, dodging street and house lights as we went.
When we reached the boat, we all hopped in and took off, sans running lights and using only moonlight to guide us. The boat was a small aluminum model, so not the fastest thing we had access to, but it was small and easy to hide, plus we could row if we needed to remain silent. Since the tide was coming in, we could access the opening of the bayou behind the house and drift to our exit point.
I checked my phone as soon as we were off and saw a text from Mannie.
“B Team has secured the vehicle and is approaching the house through the woods,” I said.
“How long will it take us to get there?” Harrison asked.
“About twenty minutes,” Carter said. “This boat isn’t the fastest, but the bayous provide more of a direct shot than the roads.”
Harrison shook his head. “You know, I thought when Fortune came here, she’d be bored silly in a week’s time and be begging to get out. When she said she was resigning from the CIA and staying here, I thought she’d lost her mind. Then I started thinking about taking life down a notch and enjoying it and decided maybe she was a genius and not a crazy person.”
“Then you moved here and saw it wasn’t boring after all,” I said.
“Got that right,” Harrison said. “Don’t get me wrong—the enemy doesn’t appear to be as well trained or equipped as those we faced overseas, but that’s balanced out by having to follow the rules.”
“Rules suck,” I agreed.
Carter laughed. “I don’t know how Morrow kept his sanity with you two paired up.”
“Who says he did?” Harrison asked and chuckled. “He certainly didn’t keep his hair.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “He has hair.”
“He has hair implants,” Harrison said. “Got them shortly after you made operative. You might want to be prepared, Carter.”
Carter shrugged. “I’ll just shave it all off. Not like I haven’t worn that look before. If I’d wanted safe and boring, I could have already been settled. Walter says I’ve been waiting for Fortune all this time. I figure he’s right.”
Harrison grinned. “I couldn’t ever imagine Redding in a relationship before, but I’ve got to agree with your uncle. It was the same for me and Cassidy. Everything just fits, you know?”
I nodded. “Which is why we’re going to get this jewel thief nonsense solved so you two can get on with your lives.”
“I have to say, even though it’s frustrating because it’s my house, I’m kinda enjoying all this cloak-and-dagger stuff. Not so sure about the Scary Mary side of things, or that woman you guys talk about who boats naked. But it definitely isn’t boring.”
Carter turned into a bayou and cut the engine. “This is it.”
We grabbed paddles and helped the boat along while keeping it off the banks. When we were nearing the house, we stuck fishing poles in the holders and made sure our hoodies were up. If anyone was close to the bayou, they’d think it was locals doing some night fishing. When we drew close to the location where we planned on hiding the boat, I spotted the orange reflector Harrison had put on a cypress tree earlier that day and pointed. Carter nodded and we started inching our way over to the bank.
We tucked the boat into a little cove created by cypress tree roots that was just down from the one that Elijah had used. That way, if his former partners came the same route, they couldn’t see our boat from where Elijah had stored his. But if I was a betting woman—and I was—I would bet my nine-millimeter that the intruder was driving in and would enter using the tunnel entry in the woods.
Once we secured the boat, we made our way to the tunnel, all on stealth mode. The only sounds were the rustle of our feet on dead leaves and the night calls of insects. Storm clouds formed overhead as we went, and I hoped the impending storm didn’t keep the intruder from trying their luck. We were ready to go through this routine every night if need be, but we were also hoping it didn’t take more than one.
When we got close to the tunnel access, we slowed our walk to a crawl, making sure we provided no indication that we were present. We circled the woods around the entry and when we were satisfied it was clear, we checked to make sure the stick we’d placed across the opening was still intact, then opened the tunnel and Carter and I headed inside. Harrison would take up a post behind some brush with a clear view of the tunnel access and the trail that we suspected the intruders were using to access it.
As soon as the intruders entered the tunnel, Harrison would text Carter and me and then proceed down the trail and disable the intruders’ car. If they managed to elude Carter and me, then they’d be on foot. It was a slim chance that anyone could best the number of professionals we had in and around the house, but we were still going to cover all bases.
Carter and I headed into the tunnels. When we reached the library, he exited and I continued up to the second floor and located a hiding place behind a chair that allowed me to see out of the room and down the hall but would be hidden from anyone if they used the tunnel exit in that room. Not that it mattered at that point. Once they were in the house, the objective was to take them down. Now that we knew the jewels were long gone, we didn’t need to know where they planned to search.
Since I didn’t need to hide until I knew someone was accessing the house, I plopped down in the chair and waited to hear from Harrison. We’d all agreed that if nothing had transpired by 3:00 a.m., we’d pack it in and try again the next night. With nothing to do but wait, I pulled out my phone and queued up the book I was reading.
I’d been reading about an hour when I got the text from Harrison.
Single target entered tunnel. Under six foot. Light build. Black pants, black mask, gloves, and shoes. No weapon visible.
I frowned. There were definitely two people the night we’d found the body because someone had cut the power to the house while I was chasing the intruder inside. And one of them couldn’t have been Elijah because he was already dead. We’d planned on two people entering, but that didn’t appear to be the case. Maybe the other two partners had a falling-out. Or one didn’t want to take the risk of coming back after Elijah’s body had been found.
