Now Jessica had joined Kim, the two of them holding guns on three of the most prominent citizens in New Orleans. “I sure hope we know what the hell we're doing, Kim,” Jessica whispered.
“ All right, do your blasted search,” the general announced. “Search all you want, but you won't find a thing, not a damned thing other than our son's body out there in the tomb where it belongs, and there's no law against that.”
“ There are laws against body-snatching even today, sir,” Jessica said, “and when you failed to come forward to announce the true identity of a murder victim, you were withholding vital information in a murder investigation. And that doesn't sit well with the courts, because you inadvertently contributed to the deaths of other victims of the Hearts killer, sir, and most judges don't take kindly to that sort of behavior, no matter who you are.”
“ Get on with it,” snarled Stephens.
“ We… we'll cooperate in any way we can,” squeaked Mrs. Raveneaux, who'd silently floated back out onto the porch, hoping to fend off trouble, though no one knew how. “Won't we, Maurice?”
“ Yes, I suppose we haven't a choice… not at gunpoint at any rate. Barney,” he spoke directly to his lawyer, “are you getting all this? We're going to have grounds for a hell of a suit against these hooligans.”
“ We quite understand your concerns, gentlemen. Please, do what you have come for,” the frail Mrs. Raveneaux cooed forth in the best tinkling tones of Southern hospitality, as if they'd come for tea or mint juleps.
Jessica sensed a childishness in the woman, perhaps a feeblemindedness, the sort that comes with having to bury one's only son. There was a warm exchange of looks between the old general and his wife. Jessica unaccountably made her own exchange of glances with Kim, Kim somehow telling her that she'd just had the same emotional response to Mrs. Raveneaux.
“ Then be done with it!” the general shouted. “And then you people, you included, Meade-Stephens, take your entire fucking circus and get the hell off my place!”
“ Why, Maurice, is that any way to speak to visitors!” Mrs. Raveneaux said, bringing him up soundly.
“ Get inside, Coretta. Get to your sitting room, dear. Go now, dear… go.”
She timidly did as told, leaving them all to stare after her.
“ Alzheimer's… can be so awful,” the general said “yet I must admit her lack of understanding has saved her from any disgrace in this sordid matter.”
Jessica wondered which matter he referred to, the search, the body-snatching, or the fact their son was gay and had lived under an assumed name. In a window overhead, Jessica thought she saw a sash move against the pane.
“ I think there's someone inside the house,” she muttered under her breath to Kim.
“ Could be servants; they've got to have a houseful to maintain a place of this size.”
“ In that case, maybe we should've come with a larger army.”
“ You kidding? All we need is one good psychic to point the way.”
Jessica, Landry, Alex and Kim went inside the enormous mansion, finding it lit with expensive Waterford crystal chandeliers in almost every room on the main floor. It was three stories high with sixty-four rooms, large enough for any suspect to hide in for days, if he or she so wished.
“ I want you to ring for all your servants, General,” Alex said. “We have a few questions for anyone in your employ.”
“ This is preposterous.”
“ Just do it now!”
The general nodded to a frail, thin man now standing beside him, the butler. “Right away, sir,” the butler said.
“ Tell me, General, did your son, Victor, spend much time in the servants' quarters?” Kim asked. “Did he play as a child with any of the servants' children?”
A slight hesitation preceded the general's response, “No… it was not permitted.”
“ Well, then, did he have any brothers or sisters to play with?”
“ You will not be questioning my entire household or family about these horrid matters,” he insisted.
“ We can do this here, sir, or at the precinct in downtown New Orleans,” Landry stated.
“ Then Victor did have a sister, didn't he? Is she the girl in this photograph?” Kim asked, handing the framed photo to Raveneaux. When Landry had pulled his car inside the gates of Raveneaux, Kim had had a dreamlike vision of children playing on the lawn here at the plantation, and there were more than several children in the vision. It was a peaceful spectral image, until one of the children began badly bleeding from a cut. It had occurred so quickly, even in the vision, that there was no telling where the cut had come from, but it had to do with one of the children.
“ Where did you get this picture?” Raveneaux demanded.
The general's wife had reappeared, and she went to the photograph as if drawn by a powerful magnet.
“ Why, it's little Victor and Dommie,” she said.
“ Then Victor did have a sister. Dominique?” Kim pressed.
Jessica exchanged a knowing look with Kim, and an anxious Alex Sincebaugh was perched and ready to bound up the stairs, to tear open doors to locate Dominique, his heart still harboring a fiery desire to avenge Ben.
“ And is Dominique here now?” Jessica asked.
The general shushed his wife and answered, saying, “No, no, she's not at present, and even if she were… you see, we've shielded her all her life from any harshness. Even if she were here, gentlemen, she would be of no help to your search.”
“ Shielded her?” asked Kim. “That's right. She doesn't even know about her brother's death. Of… of course she knows of his absence, but we've… I've told her nothing of the nature of…just how Victor died. You see, she's a delicate creature, actually, quite easily disturbed.”
“ Are you telling us that your daughter is retarded?” asked Landry.
Alex stepped before Raveneaux. “Oh, no, General! No way's she getting off. She knows more than all of us put together. No way is she going to cop a…”
Kim pushed between Alex and the general. “What precisely do you mean, sir? With regard to your daughter?”
“ I beg of you, she's… she would be of no help whatever to your investigation, please.” The general took Captain Landry aside, whispering, “The girl has never been quite… well… quite right.”
Landry's piercing look needed no words.
“ She's been in and out of hospitals, has been seen by the best men in medicine. I wish you would not upset her with questions about her brother's death. We've not told her that Victor is dead. It… it could crush her. She loved…continues to love him so. We're… I, rather, I have been waiting for just the right time, but so far… things being so delicate with her condition…”
“ What is your daughter's age, sir?” asked Jessica, while Meade menacingly eyed her and Stephens swelled with zealous gasps.
Alex pressed in. “Do you have a current photo of her nearby?”
“ She's twenty-four, and of course we do,” replied the general's wife, going for the white baby grand piano on top of which perched a bevy of photos of Victor, the general and his wife, along with several of Dominique herself. Returning with one of the photos, she remarked, “Isn't she a lovely child?”
The girl in the photo had close-cropped hair, her appearance quite close to her brother's, save for the piercing, faraway, yet stern and angry serpent's look in her eyes.
“ Where is Dominique now?” Jessica pressed.
“ She's traveling,” the general said with a restraining hand on his wife's forearm, his body language giving his lie away to the trained detectives. “I couldn't quite say precisely where she is at the moment, since she's doing the Continent… in the company of a guardian, of course.”
“ Europe, you mean?” asked Landry.
“ Then you won't mind if we take a look at your daughter's room?” Jessica asked.
“ I see absolutely no reason why you should be the least inter-”
“ Oh, but we're very interested, General,” corrected Alex.
“ Why, it's a lovely room, Maurice. Let them see how we've decorated Dommie's room. Come…” Mrs. Raveneaux obviously enjoyed playing the hostess.