Cold Blood

Chapter 17

Rosie replaced the receiver and looked at Rooney.

‘Caley’s maid said she just left.’

He sighed. ‘Well, maybe you’re getting youself all worked up over nothing, honey.’

‘No, I’m not, Bill, you didn’t see the way she was. You don’t understand, she’s an alcoholic — one night off the wagon won’t be the last.’

‘Hell, she was up and out before you or me, maybe she’s more resilient than you give her credit for.’

‘Yeah, and maybe I know her better than she knows herself, Billy, and if you want to know, it’s because I’ve got the same addiction. There’s been plenty of times I’ve thought I could control it, you know, just a few drinks, it won’t matter, but believe me, it matters, and I’m worried.’

‘You care a lot about her, don’t you?’

Rosie looked at him in surprise. “Course I do. I mean, we may yell at each other, but underneath it all she’s the best friend I ever had.’

‘Doesn’t look that way to me. She’s got a tongue like a viper, I know, because she’s stung me with it pretty good.’

Rosie sucked in her breath. ‘Same time, Bill, you and me are both here because of her. You and me could also have one hell of a nest-egg because of her. You said it to me often enough, she was one of the best — well, when she was sober.’

‘I know, and maybe, Rosie, what I am facing is that I’m not. She pushes me, and she can work stuff out and get on to it quicker than me, and I feel tired lately, you know? I don’t know if it’s just I don’t have the incentive any more, but I’m not a number one, never was... didn’t really know it until now.’

‘Yes you were, and you still are — look at the way you got that cop to open up.’

He gave a lovely chuckle. ‘No, Rosie, I belong to the old school, a dying breed, and you know something? I’ve even been scared to admit it to myself, but it’s the God’s honest truth — I’ve spent my whole life among the dregs of humanity, and I’d like to spend the next part breathing good clean air. I’ve done a lot of thinking about this.’

Rosie suddenly felt frightened: was he saying that he wanted this new life without her? Her heart lurched in her chest as Rooney continued.

‘You may not be interested, but Rosie, if we do get this big cash bonus, we should have us a good time, go on trips, maybe as far afield as Europe. I always wanted to see Vienna — that’s somethin’ else I never admitted to anyone.’ Rosie hugged him tightly. ‘Bill, I’d go anywhere with you, Vienna, China...’

‘China?’ he said, looking down into her upturned face.

‘Yeah, I’ve always wanted to go there, don’t ask me why. I’d like to go some place exotic, stimulating, you know what I mean?’

He beamed. ‘China it is. But first, you think we should look out for a ring, you know, make this official?’

Rosie was brimming over with happiness and kissed him passionately in the middle of the hotel lobby, oblivious to the group of old ladies passing by. Nobody paid much attention — there were a lot of things more interesting to see in New Orleans than an old couple kissing.

Lorraine was parked just outside Tilda Brown’s home, draining her second can of vodka and Coke and trying to think of the best way to go about things — whether to confront the parents and demand that they speak to her, or go to the back door and talk to the servants. She instructed François to head up the Browns’ manicured drive, and tried to get up the energy to open the car door, but she felt empty and tired out. Robert Caley was now in first place yet again as the prime suspect, and it hurt. Just as thinking about what Nick Bartello had said hurt, his death hurt, everything hurt. She couldn’t get out of the car.

‘You okay, Mrs Page?’

‘No, François, I’m not. I’m thinking about a nice guy who died, and another man who I thought was a nice guy but wasn’t. If I go in there this afternoon, I have to come out with a result or I may not be allowed in again.’

François leaned over the front seat. ‘You want some advice, Mrs Page?’

She half laughed. ‘Why not?’

‘Well, my advice is to come back tomorrow. You’re not strong now, I can feel it. Whatever you need from this house can wait.’ She smiled and then agreed.

‘Yeah, you’re right. We’ll come back tomorrow, François, and tomorrow I won’t be drinking.’

He gave that wide smile, half gaps, half gold.

‘Okey dokey, Mrs Page.’

Juda stood in the kitchen and just smelling that big pan of hot chicken made her feel good. The small house was spick and span, cleaner than she had seen it for as long as she could remember. They had carried her bags into one of the boys’ rooms and she had been touched by the beautiful, fresh, sweet-smelling flowers. The boys, wearing smart suits, and Sugar May, wearing a clean print dress, were laying the table for supper.

Edith had changed and was truly happy to see Juda, embracing her warmly, almost forgetting the terrible thing Raoul had done. They didn’t speak of it right away because Ruby’s dressmaker had arrived for a final fitting, so there was a lot of excitement emanating from the front room, Ruby screeching that nobody was to enter until the dress was fixed up.

Edith opened some beer, handing Juda a frothing glass.

‘You able to stay a while?’

‘Maybe, all depends. I got to be on hand for Mrs Caley, she was took bad tonight again, but she’s got the resilience of a wild bronco, that woman. I see her so bad, so bad, Edith, but she picks herself up again.’ Juda sipped her beer. Edith drew out a chair and sat opposite her sister.

‘You know there is always a place here for you.’

‘I should sure as hell hope so, Edith, as I’ve been paying for this house since I can recall!’

Suddenly there was the muffled sound of the telephone, hidden in a drawer, and Edith looked at Juda in confusion.

‘It’s the telephone, I’ll get it. I dunno who can be calling, as you’re the only one knows we got a number.’ Edith opened the drawer and lifted out the telephone, which was still ringing. ‘It’s Fryer, maybe, he got the number.’

She picked up the receiver gingerly. ‘Hello?’ There was the sound of bleeps and static. ‘Who is this please?’ Edith said nervously, always frightened that one day the telephone exchange would call.

‘Mama? I’m on a mobile,’ came Raoul’s voice. Edith had to sit down, her body breaking out in a sweat.

‘Where are you, boy? Where are you?’

Raoul laughed and said he was calling her from his automobile. ‘I want to come home, Mama, but I ain’t coming if I’m gonna get a whoppin’ or you start hexing me. I know I done wrong, I know that, but I wanna come home see mah little sister crowned, Mama.’

Edith passed the receiver to Juda. ‘It’s Raoul, you deal with him, I am havin’ nothing to do with that thievin’, no-good boy.’

Juda grabbed the phone. ‘He’s speakin’ from a mobile in a car,’ Edith explained.

‘An’ I know whose money bought that mobile,’ said Juda, her face turning red with fury. ‘This is Juda, you hearing me, Raoul Corbello? You get that snake ass of yours back here, and you bring me mah money — you got mah money?’

‘I have, Aunt Juda, minus a few dollars, but I ain’t comin’ back if you’re fixin’ to do bad things to me. It was a madness that took over me, and I will return all I got left. All I want to do is be with my family and get your forgiveness and see my sister crowned.’

‘You all drugged up, boy?’

‘Hell, no, Aunt Juda, I’m clean, I don’t do drugs no more, not since they made me do somethin’ as wicked as to steal from you, my own flesh and blood.’

Juda pursed her lips. ‘You got a free and easy grease tongue, boy, but you come on home. You bring me my money, and maybe we’ll sort this out real amicable, no whippin’, but so help me God, if you disappear then I’ll set the devil hisself on you.’

‘I’ll be home soon, Aunt Juda, bye now.’

Juda slammed the phone down. She would have liked to have told him that she personally would whip him until he bled, but she wanted her life’s savings back first.

Edith prepared herself for an onslaught about Raoul, but before it came there was a holler from Ruby that they should come and see her. Juda heaved herself up on her feet and Edith reached out and caught her hand.

‘She’s changed, Juda, it happened so quick. You’ll see, you won’t hardly know the little girl you last saw running around.’ Juda drained her beer and carefully put the glass down.

‘She a good girl, Edith?’

Edith nodded, and linked her arm through Juda’s. ‘She looks just like we used to, Juda.’

Juda held on to her sister’s arm. She spoke softly, not wanting Jesse and Willy to hear. The pair of them, dressed in their best suits like choirboys, were afraid to so much as take a Coke from the fridge without permission. Fryer’s thrashing had instituted good behaviour, for a while anyway.

‘How much like us, Edith?’ Juda asked.

Edith stared into Juda’s eyes. ‘In every way. I didn’t think so, but she helped me today and there was something there, I felt it.’

Edith pushed open the door, Juda just behind her, and both of them felt for each other’s hands because of the emotion of seeing Ruby. Even the bad-tempered old dressmaker was close to tears, pressing against the far wall, smiling with pride.

Ruby turned slowly to face her mother and aunt. There was only one lamp lit and its radiance surrounded Ruby like a faint halo, the dress so richly embroidered in golden thread that it seemed to glow. The skin-tight bodice displayed the girl’s slim waist perfectly, while the neckline, surrounded by exquisite garlands of embroidery, revealed the smooth brown skin of her bosom and throat. The cut, though, was modest, and the long blue sleeves were full-length, fastened with a dozen tiny golden buttons between elbow and cuff. At Ruby’s hips, the dress was gathered at the back in an effect which could have been worn only by a girl who was as slender as a gazelle, reminiscent of an old-fashioned bustle and train, the skirt almost filling the floor space of the room.

‘Look Mama, look.’ Ruby smiled, lifting the hem at the front to show the dress’s silk lining and net underskirts, then her own delicate ankle and high golden shoe. She swished her skirts and the embroidery danced and sparkled like the gold of sunlight on water. Edith wiped a tear from her eye.

‘There’s a mantle too,’ Ruby cried, beckoning to the dressmaker, who unfolded a blue silk cloak, lined with the same golden silk, and fastened it on Ruby’s shoulders with two scalloped golden clasps while Ruby reached behind her head and skilfully wound her long dark hair into a sleek knot.

‘Here, girl, put these on before your headdress,’ said the dressmaker, unfastening the gold hoops that hung on her own ears. ‘Just try how they look with your hair.’ Ruby slipped the rings through her ears, her eyes cast modestly down.

‘Oh, my, my, my,’ whispered Juda.

‘You approve, Aunt Juda?’ Ruby asked softly, and only then did she lift her eyes, the colour of night, to meet her aunt’s, and they were eyes that held secrets, that would see into nightmares and dreams.

Juda whispered, almost in awe of her niece, ‘Oh, I approve, I approve. Now you are ready to be a real queen, Ruby. You got a light inside your eyes now, child, you feel it glowing? Don’t you abuse that now, honey, never abuse it, for it’s very precious.’

And then it was gone: the dressmaker fastened the headdress of tall ostrich plumes on Ruby’s head and she was the laughing, posing, teenage Queen of the Carnival again. But Juda knew what she had seen, and looked at her sister, and they did not need to exchange a word — both knew that the sight was precious, just as they knew it would exhaust and weigh the young girl down. But they would be there when the darkness felt like it was dragging her into oblivion, just as their mama had been, and their grandmama and great-grandmama.

Lorraine sat at the cheap veneered table in her hotel room, updating their information. There had been a note from Rosie and Rooney to say they had gone out to dinner, telling her the name of the restaurant and how to get there. There was also the number of an AA meeting, and a special note, underlined, from Rosie saying that if Lorraine had any sense she would go. Despite the suggestion that she should join them at the restaurant, the note made Lorraine feel excluded, and guilty about the fact that she had been drinking all day, but moderately, so that she was sure that even someone who knew her as well as Rosie could not have detected it. She hid the bottles she had bought — with so many beds to choose from, there were plenty of mattresses under which they could be stashed — before ordering some more cans of Coke, a hamburger and fries.

She finished her notes, making sure they were all neat and intelligible. Nothing must give her away, nobody must have any inkling that she was drinking again: she didn’t even admit it to herself.

It was late, after midnight, and Fryer Jones rocked in his chair, looking from Juda to Edith, a half-smile on his face. Sometimes he’d forget which sister he’d married, and he couldn’t be absolutely certain it wasn’t both of them. He’d had them both on numerous occasions, which was the reason Eddie Corbello had taken off, and he was unsure which of Edith’s kids were in fact his. He wasn’t all that sure if he was actually divorced from Juda. He wasn’t about to break their good-humoured drinking session, as once again they refilled their glasses. Now they drank to the most powerful queen of voodoo, Marie Laveau, whose light was still shining now in Ruby Corbello’s eyes. As the wine took hold, they determined in slurred voices that no one would ever destroy the past that belonged to their people. Juda and Edith touched glasses for yet another toast as Fryer got to his feet; he’d had enough.

‘Goodnight, y’all. Watch over that little tinderbox Ruby, an’ if she gets into trouble you call me. You two witches may not appreciate this, but I play a major part in this family.’

He walked down the alleyway between the small crumbling houses, looking forward to playing some music that evening, the way he always looked forward to it. He reckoned he had covered all his tracks, and Ruby and the boys, be they his or not, were safe. Soon he’d have his old cracked lips round the most kissable thing on earth, his trombone.

Lorraine ploughed on through her note-book, checking back on information and jotting dates and names into a new book, and it was after twelve when she fell into bed. There had been no calls from Robert Caley, but she had told the desk to tell him she was not in her room. She was to be woken at seven in the morning, and a message relayed to Rosie and Rooney that she wanted a breakfast meeting at 7.30.

Lorraine was so exhausted she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but she was awake before the alarm call, already showered and changed. She checked her notes once more before heading down to the dining room. She had taken only a small slug of vodka from the bottle, and had then performed her usual routine, emptying some of the Coke out and then topping the can up. Nothing in her manner, she was sure, could give her away.

Rooney and Rosie were already seated, even though it was only 7.25.

‘Morning, thanks for making it so early, we got to get moving.’

‘That’s what we’re here for, standing by, ready and waiting, boss,’ Rooney said, pouring her coffee.

Lorraine put down her can of Coke and opened her note-book, not even bothering with small-time chit-chat.

‘Okay, did you find that gris-gris necklace of Nick’s in his hotel room?’

‘Nope, not in his room,’ Rooney replied, and Lorraine chewed her pen tip.

‘You sure he had it on when he went out?’

‘No, I never saw him leave, but he had it on earlier in the day. In fact, he hadn’t taken it off since Fryer Jones gave it to him.’ She made a note and then looked at him.

‘Newspaper, you got written confirmation it was dated February fifteenth last year?’

Rooney nodded and pulled the folded copy of the page from his pocket. ‘Means the doll was given to Tilda on that date or maybe the day after. Reason being, if someone was wrapping up something, they wouldn’t use the fresh morning papers, but maybe the previous day’s was lying around? So we more or less know when Tilda was given the doll.’

‘Mmm,’ Lorraine said, sipping her coffee. She flipped her note-book closed and picked up the menu, then tossed it aside. She had no appetite for anything but the can of Coke, and reached out for it again. Rosie looked quickly at Rooney, and then at the can. She interrupted as Lorraine began to outline the developments of the previous day in matter-of-fact fashion.

‘What did you just say, Tilda Brown was screwing Robert Caley?’

‘Yes, well, she wrote it in her diary, may have been lies, but if he paid off Ruby Corbello, I doubt it. There must be some element of guilt, and more reason for Anna Louise to get so heated about seeing him kissing her, maybe she found out. I dunno, but I was wrong about the bear, she’d had it for months, so Ruby said, and it doesn’t matter now anyway. I doubt the diary will still be intact.’

Rooney squinted at the menu, and looked at Rosie. ‘Maybe you order? Nothing too fattening.’

Rosie nodded and signalled to the waitress, who took their order for more coffee and fresh fruit.

‘You not eating?’ Rosie said, turning to Lorraine as the waitress moved off.

‘Nope, nothing for me, coffee’s fine.’

Lorraine’s foot kept kicking at the table. She listed on her fingers what she had discovered about Elizabeth Caley, and about Juda’s involvement, breaking for quick sips of coffee and Coke before she continued.

‘Ruby Corbello, Juda or Edith made that doll. Maybe even Fryer Jones? But one of them did, I’m sure of it, that doll was made to scare the pants off Tilda Brown. But Tilda didn’t kill herself when she was given it, so what made her wait so many months and why didn’t she destroy it?’

Rooney poured himself more coffee. ‘You think Anna Louise gave her the doll?’

Lorraine snapped. ‘Yes, obviously. Question is how and when she got it, and when did she take it to Tilda?’

Rooney scratched his head. ‘I go for the evening she disappeared, maybe thought she’d be back in the hotel before dinner, and something happened to her either at Tilda Brown’s or on her way back from there.’

‘Yeah, right,’ agreed Lorraine, ‘I’ve been over and over what I said to Tilda on the afternoon I interviewed her and I still can’t think that anything I said would have made her kill herself, or anything she said to me that gives me any insight. The only thing I said to her was that if Anna Louise had been having sex with her father, then that might have been a reason for her disappearance. Since then I’ve discovered that it wasn’t Anna Louise having a relationship with Caley but Tilda, so maybe knowing that I would talk to Caley, she might have been scared it would all come out about them and hanged herself. Plus the fact I had the photo of Anna Louise at the Viper Room and she was scared that would all come out as well, because in her suicide note she wrote something like, “God forgive me”...’

Breakfast arrived, and the waitress set up a trolley, placing a big bowl of fruit and another pot of coffee on it, and throughout the nervous tapping of Lorraine’s foot never stopped.

‘You interview the bell-boy at Caley’s hotel, Errol, scare him up a bit, Bill. He showed Ruby Corbello in, delivered a message for her, and he’s not opened his little pill-box hat about that to me or to the police.’

Lorraine drained her can of Coke, then spooned some sugar into her black coffee.

‘Don’t you want honey?’ said Rosie. ‘All you got to do is ask.’

‘Sugar’s fine.’

Rosie was watching Lorraine closely: maybe she was wrong, but somehow she was sure that Lorraine was drinking. She was searching her packet of Marlboro Lights as if she thought there was a stray one left inside, then suddenly threw the empty pack aside.

‘You need a fresh pack?’

‘Later,’ Lorraine said, her foot still kicking. ‘Okay, this is what goes down today. You stay well clear of Caley, Bill. I don’t want to go near the hotel because I don’t want to confront him yet! Okay, Rosie, job for you. Check all taxi firms and see if they got a log-book of cab rides the night Anna Louise went missing.’

Rooney nodded and looked at Rosie.

‘We know they’ve been questioned and they have come up with fuck-all, so this time give them the date, February fifteenth, the time, about seven o’clock, and Tilda Brown’s address. Maybe one will remember if you say a purse was found and has never been claimed, and a cabbie handed it in to lost property. Fat chance in this place, but see what you can get, Rosie, say you’re looking for the guy to pass over a reward, I dunno, make something up, but don’t mention Anna Louise Caley or anything to do with our case.’

Rosie nodded: she liked it when Bill let the old Captain Rooney show, even though she had never known him when he was on the Force. Lorraine flipped over her notes as Rooney tapped her elbow.

‘Maybe I should see if the police have searched Fryer’s place for that necklace.’

‘Yeah, good thinking. If they haven’t, ask them to, or maybe you take one of them with you. That guy you paid the five hundred bucks to might help out, an’ if necessary pay him more. But don’t you go on your own, Bill, it’s in a bad neighbourhood.’

‘You did!’

She nodded. ‘Yeah, I know, and it was dumb, but somehow I think they’re such a bunch of male chauvinist bastards around here I’d get away with it. Big guy like you might not, and they got barmen in there like snakes, and a few with muscles, so just do like I said, don’t take risks.’

Rosie smiled and pushed her chair back. ‘Lemme go get you some smokes, won’t take a second. They got packs at reception.’

Lorraine looked up at her and smiled. ‘Thanks, Rosie.’

Rooney started to peel an apple. ‘So, anything else on the agenda? I mean, I know what I’m doing, what about you?’

Lorraine frowned.

‘We’re moving,’ Bill went on, ‘but... you know we’re still no closer to finding Anna Louise Caley, no matter how much information we’ve come up with. Getting as far as we have has been time-consuming, and time is one thing we don’t have. Without that diary, without proof there was some sexual thing going on between Caley and Tilda Brown, it’ll be his word against yours, and that won’t look good in a transcript of the investigation. Like when did you discuss this possible sexual motive? Oh, when I was being screwed by the defendant.’

Lorraine sucked in her breath and turned away. ‘You hit below the belt sometimes, Bill.’

‘But all the same, you know I’m right.’

Lorraine nodded. ‘Come on, Bill, it’s not that bad, and maybe we’ll get some joy with cab drivers.’

Rooney munched on the apple. ‘You think so? Well, have a look over the old case sheets, every cab driver from every district was questioned and shown photographs of Anna Louise Caley. Nobody admitted picking her up, seeing her. It was the first part of the investigation by every private dick hired and all the cops, here and in LA. They got nothing. You want a slice of apple?’

Lorraine smiled and opened her mouth like a fledgling in a nest. ‘Sure, I like it peeled, always tastes different, doesn’t it?’

Rosie had told reception that she wanted to collect something from Lorraine’s room, and as the girl behind the desk knew they were all friends, she handed Rosie Lorraine’s room key. Rosie was fast: she knew the places she used to hide bottles, so it didn’t take her long to find Lorraine’s hidden stash. She left the bottles where she had found them and walked out.

‘One pack of cancer sticks,’ she said as she tossed the cigarettes on to the table, and watched while Lorraine picked up her note-book and rose to go.

‘We should talk some more,’ Rosie said quietly.

‘I’m all talked out, Rosie, we haven’t got the time to sit around gassing.’

‘You need to go to a meeting, Lorraine.’

Rooney patted Rosie’s hand. ‘Maybe let that go for a while.’

‘We can’t let it go, Bill. We can’t, can we, Lorraine?’

‘Sure we can. I got more important things on my mind right now, Rosie, and so should you.’ Rosie picked up the empty can of Coke, smelt it, then held it lightly in her hand.

‘Maybe you can pull the wool over Bill’s eyes, and maybe even over your own, but you can’t pull it over mine. I know Lorraine, and this... here, Bill, smell the can, it’s been laced with vodka. One of the biggest myths in history is the belief that vodka doesn’t smell... it does, believe me, it does.’

‘What’s she talking about?’ Rooney asked.

‘Tell him, Lorraine, why don’t you tell him how much you had to have to get yourself down to breakfast? Not that you ate anything.’

‘Get off my back, Rosie.’

Rosie smashed the can down. ‘For chrissakes, Lorraine, don’t be such an idiot, you can’t get away with it, you maybe think you can, but you can’t.’

‘What the fuck is going on?’ Rooney asked.

‘Tell him, Lorraine, go on, tell him!’

‘Leave me alone,’ Lorraine snapped.

‘No can do, we’ve got too much at stake. She’s drinking, Bill, she’s started up drinking.’

Rooney sat back. ‘Oh shit, this is all we need. For chrissakes, Lorraine, are you out of your mind?’

Lorraine wouldn’t look at either of them, but fumbled with the new pack of cigarettes, trying to unwrap it.

‘She’s got bottles stashed in her room,’ Rosie said flatly.

‘Is this true?’ Bill asked, sadness in his voice.

‘Do you think I’m lying? I’ve just been in her room,’ Rosie snapped, and Rooney looked at her sharply.

‘Rosie, do me a favour, just leave us a second, will you? I mean it, go on, go wait in the lobby.’

Rosie pursed her lips, then pushed back her chair. ‘Fine, but I’m not waiting long. Like she said, we’re running out of time.’

Rooney struck a match and lit Lorraine’s cigarette: she inhaled deeply.

‘You need it that bad, huh?’

Lorraine let the smoke drift from her nose. ‘I need it, Billy, but it’s under control, I promise. I just need something for a while, then I’ll go to one of her fucking meetings.’

‘Can you control it?’ He reached for her hand, but she withdrew it. When she spoke her voice was low and husky.

‘Please don’t bring up that kid I shot, please don’t. All I need is a stop-gap, just to keep me steady. If I don’t have it I’ll fold, because I feel so bad inside.’

‘Is it Caley?’

She nodded, then sighed.

‘Yeah, it’s him. I really liked him, Billy, and to be honest, I felt that maybe, just maybe I could have some love in my life. Then there was Nick — he was such a good guy. Sometimes it feels like whenever somebody is nice to me, loves me just a little bit, I foul it up, or it gets fouled up some other way, and I get so lonely...’

‘You know,’ he said softly, ‘Rosie and me both love you. She really cares, and I just don’t want to see you fuck up.’

She gave him that rare, sweet smile. ‘I promise that if you just let me get through this, at least until the time runs out on the case, I’ll keep myself steady. In fact, I’ll try not to touch the fucking stuff, I can’t say more than that.’

Rooney nodded. ‘Okay, but if you do foul up, then...’ He sighed. ‘Don’t destroy yourself, Lorraine, because you’re too good, too smart, and you’re one hell of an investigator, better than I could ever be, better than most I ever met.’

‘Thanks. Now you go and talk to Rosie, we’ve got a lot to be getting on with.’

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. ‘Just promise me you’ll talk to us when you need to, because we’re here for you.’

She watched him walk away, ashamed, but unable to cry. She’d already done too much of that.

Rooney joined Rosie in the lobby as Lorraine shot past: she smiled, but didn’t slow her pace.

‘Any chance you telling us where we can reach your. Just in case we come up with something,’ Rosie blurted out, and Lorraine turned.

‘I’m on my way to Tilda Brown’s home and then I’ll be back here, dunno how long it will take.’

The doors swung after her as she disappeared and jumped into her car. Rosie would have gone after her, but Rooney held her arm.

‘Let her go, Rosie, let her go.’

She glared at him. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, she’s back on the booze, Bill.’

‘I know,’ he said sadly, tilting Rosie’s chin up to make her look at him. ‘We can try to take care of her, but we can’t stop her, she’s got something inside her neither of us has.’

‘Oh yeah, well let me tell you—’

‘No,’ he said firmly, ‘let me tell you. She feels more guilt than either of us ever will, and if she needs liquor to get her through this, then we will just have to let it go and look after her as best we can — we don’t have much time left as it is. She’s aware of it all, Rosie, believe me, she knows, and I trust her.’

Rosie shrugged. ‘Okay, but if she carries on this way Vienna and China won’t happen because she won’t be able to function.’

He straightened up.

‘But we will, and we got a lot to do, so let’s get moving.’

Robert Caley was now becoming angry at Lorraine’s silence, it just didn’t make any sense to him. Then he began to get a little uneasy as to why she had not called, so he tried to contact her again. As he was dialling her hotel number, there was a light rap on his door. He opened it, and the bell-boy hovered.

‘Yes?’ Caley snapped.

Errol looked down the corridor and back at Caley.

‘What do you want?’

‘Er, can I come in, sir? It’s just, someone’s been asking me questions and I’m not sure what to say.’

Caley sighed and opened the door wider. ‘What is it?’

Errol took off his pill-box hat. ‘I’m a friend of Ruby Corbello’s, Mr Caley, it was me that brought you the note that night last year.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, what note, what night?’

Errol stepped from one foot to the other. ‘Night you first arrived last year, Mr Caley, Ruby give me a note for you and I passed it to you and then you met her down by the pool, sir.’

Caley took a deep breath, and reached for his wallet. ‘No, I don’t recall ever speaking to you or Miss Corbello, in fact I have no idea who she is. Now, how much do I owe you?’

Errol licked his lips, peered to the half-open door. ‘You see, there was this guy stopped me on my way in to work and asked me about it. I said I never passed no note, and—’

Caley’s eyes were like ice. ‘You didn’t, and I never received anything that night. Now here’s a hundred bucks, get out and stay out, or you’ll lose your job. And when my casino opens I am going to need employees with good recommendations and experience, do you understand?’

‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir.’

Caley kicked the door shut after Errol, not too worried. If it ever came to it, it would be his word against the boy’s. But he knew he would also have to make Ruby Corbello understand that she too had better keep her mouth shut. There was no diary, that had been destroyed immediately, but he just didn’t like any loose ends, especially now when everything was looking so good. At no time did Caley connect the diary and Tilda to his missing daughter. She was gradually fading from his mind, and she hadn’t been his own daughter anyway, but she had been useful.

Lloyd Dulay had not liked it one bit when Caley had said that if the accusations that he had had a sexual relationship with Anna Louise were not publicly retracted, he would sue, and obviously it would have to come out that Anna Louise was, in fact, Dulay’s daughter. He was merely threatening, but Dulay had taken him seriously and suggested that if in place of a retraction of any stupid gossip he demonstrated full cooperation with Caley in the new partnership negotiations, that would be advantageous on both counts. On the one hand it would dismiss the allegations and prove they were simply ridiculous, because if a man of Lloyd Dulay’s standing considered entering a business deal with someone he had accused of having sexual relations with his young daughter, then it couldn’t be true. And on the other hand it would not be necessary to bring up the fact that Anna Louise was actually Lloyd Dulay’s child. And he used the fact that poor Elizabeth was of such a nervous disposition he did not wish her to be put through some awful scandal in the papers. Dulay had come round all right — and he hadn’t taken much pushing.

Caley did not use his own driver, but walked a short distance from the hotel, then took the streetcar a few stops before flagging down a passing taxi to take him to Edith Corbello’s.

Lorraine had returned to Mr and Mrs Brown’s home. They had been talking quietly for almost half an hour and it had been a testing, drawn-out time. They could not remember when they had last seen Tilda with Anna Louise or with Robert Caley. As far as they knew, their daughter had no problems, none. That was why they were finding it so difficult to come to terms with her death.

‘So during the time Anna Louise has been missing, you never saw anything faintly suspicious about Tilda’s behaviour? By that I mean, did she change? Did she become moody or uncooperative in any way?’

Mrs Brown was so pale and washed out that Lorraine felt almost cruel questioning her. She wept constantly, wiping her tears away with a handkerchief, unfolding it to blow her nose, then refolding it again to wipe her eyes.

‘Well, of course she was very, very upset. Anna Louise was her best friend, she was inconsolable about her, and for her to disappear like that was just dreadful for Tilda. They had been very close since childhood and I think what made it worse was that they had argued the day before, so Tilda never had a chance to make it up with Anna Louise. That’s what upset her most of all.’

Lorraine looked at Mr Brown, who sat straight-backed, his face bearing a pained, quizzical expression.

‘Do you think Tilda did what she did because she was still upset about Anna Louise?’ Lorraine asked, her voice hushed and sounding, even to herself, excessively conspiratorial.

‘We don’t know, we had thought she had got over it all, but she obviously had not, and quite possibly, Mrs Page, your visit might have made her sink into a depression. We do not know, just as we really do not know why you came out to see her.’ He looked at Lorraine almost accusingly, and he was becoming agitated, his hands clenching and unclenching, though he tried to hide it by pressing them into his thighs. ‘We had interviews for many weeks after Anna Louise disappeared, and poor Tilda, on top of losing her dearest friend, was questioned more than anyone. What did you ask her, Mrs Page? Why don’t you tell us if she became upset, because we would dearly like to know, need, to know what made our only daughter do such a terrible thing? She has broken our hearts.’

Lorraine lied for a further half-hour, making up chitchat questions and answers regarding her interview with Tilda about Anna Louise. It was all so emotionally tense that Lorraine felt they were draining her energy from her.

‘I need to see any friend of Tilda’s that she saw on a regular basis, and where she went. I need to build up a picture of your daughter prior to the tragedy.’

Mr and Mrs Brown whispered to each other, and Mrs Brown nodded her head. She then excused herself and left the room.

Mr Brown sighed and looked towards the wall of glass through which the pool and tennis court were visible.

‘We have tried to come to terms with it, Mrs Page. We know Tilda was so worried about what had happened to Anna Louise. There were such stories about kidnap and rape, or even, pray God it is not true, that she might have been murdered. And as a result, Tilda kept very much to herself for the past few months, but my wife will give you details.’

‘Thank you.’

He stared down at his shoes, and then bit his lip. ‘Although I do not see why you are taking such an interest. I believe Mr and Mrs Caley hired you to keep up the search for their daughter, and rightly so, but I do not understand why you would spend so much of your time on Tilda. In fact, I feel quite guilty that we are taking you away from your investigation to talk about Tilda.’

Lorraine smiled. ‘Please, Mr Brown, I think in the end it will only help me. You see, they were such dear friends, the more I find out about Tilda means I am also finding out about poor Anna Louise Caley.’

‘Ah, yes, I understand, well...’

Lorraine opened her briefcase and took out the doll, still wrapped in the towel. He seemed not to be paying any attention, staring vacantly towards the window. She crossed to a dining table near the window, and unwrapped the doll.

‘I didn’t want your wife to see this as it is so upsetting, but I think you should.’

He joined her at the table, and then gasped. ‘Dear God, where did you find this?’

‘In Tilda’s bedroom, hidden in a tennis racquet cover.’

His hands were shaking as he reached out, not to touch the doll but hold the edge of the table.

‘It was in my daughter’s bedroom?’ he said, aghast.

‘Yes. As you can see, it has her picture on its face, and...’

His fist banged down on the table. ‘It must be one of the help, but why? Dear God Almighty, what would any one of them make this for? It’s disgusting.’

‘It’s a voodoo doll, Mr Brown.’

‘I know what it is,’ he snapped.

‘So you see why I am here. I know a girl who worked here, Ruby Corbello, was fired, and I think perhaps she made it out of spite, to frighten Tilda.’

‘I’ll have her arrested.’

‘But I don’t have the proof that she did, Mr Brown. Also, the newspaper it was wrapped in was dated February fifteenth last year, the day Anna Louise went missing, so your daughter had this doll for a long time.’

He was staring at the doll, and suddenly his shoulders began to shake, and he sobbed, awful dry gasping sobs.

Mrs Brown walked in, carrying a sheet of violet notepaper. ‘I’ve jotted down all the people I can think of.’

Mr Brown straightened trying to control himself, but he was obviously very distressed. ‘I’m sorry, so sorry, please excuse me, I’m sorry.’

He rushed past his wife as Lorraine quickly covered the doll and looked after him. Mrs Brown tried to touch him, but he hurried out, closing the door.

Mrs Brown joined Lorraine at the window and sighed. ‘I think I know what upset him, they used to play in there for hours on end when they were children, Tilda and Anna Louise. We should take it down.’

Lorraine looked out in the same direction as Mrs Brown but could only see a gardener clipping hedges, and a small white building, the size of a shed, close to the bushes. Even at this distance Lorraine could see that there was a large padlock on the door.

‘My husband built that little playhouse for her and she would never let him take it down. She used to say she wanted to bring our grandchildren here to play in it when she got married, so seeing it must have reminded him. We loved our daughter so much, Mrs Page.’

‘Yes, of course, I understand.’

Mrs Brown passed Lorraine the neatly folded sheet of note-paper. ‘These are some of the friends I know she visited, plus the pastor and group she went to church with. And this is her doctor and the girls she went horseback-riding with, and this is the list of the people she knew at college. I’ve put down their addresses and phone numbers, or the ones I recalled and were on the Christmas card lists. Most of them came to her funeral, well, not the ones from her college.’

‘Thank you, I do appreciate this.’

‘She didn’t go back to Los Angeles after Anna Louise went missing, said she couldn’t face it there. She said she wanted to be here, just in case she called, or made contact.’ Mrs Brown drew out the sodden little handkerchief again. ‘She had been doing so well in college, it was such a shame, but she said she just could not think or concentrate until she found out what had happened to Anna.’ Mrs Brown shrugged her shoulders.

‘I’m sorry, it must have affected her deeply.’

Mrs Brown nodded. ‘Yes, it affected us all. Now, well, nothing will ever be the same again.’

Lorraine slumped into the car and wound down the window.

‘Jesus Christ, they say they don’t know why their daughter fucking hanged herself when it’s so obvious she was going nuts in that house because her best friend disappears and...’ Lorraine leaned forward. ‘She doesn’t go back to college. She stays home most of the time and is nervous and worried. She’s got a fucking death doll in her tennis racquet case. Holy shit, they must really have been blind not to pick up the fact their daughter needed professional help! And added to that, the poor kid had also been fucked royally by her best friend’s father. No wonder she tied the knot. I think I’d maybe do it under the same circumstances.’

François waited as Lorraine checked over Mrs Brown’s neat list of so-called friends. He had no idea what she was talking about, but he nodded his head.

‘Okay, François, I want the Pastor first. Then we’ve got to get to the first two addresses on this list.’ She passed him Mrs Brown’s note.

‘Yes, ma’am, church it is. Pastor Bellamy is a mighty fine man.’

‘You know him?’

‘No, ma’am, but he’s well known for preachin’ a good sermon.’

Lorraine smiled. ‘Do you all lie, François?’

‘Who do you mean by all, Miss Lorraine?’

She laughed. ‘Cab drivers, François, cab drivers. What do you think I meant, all blacks?’

He gave a big, gap-toothed grin that showed an inch of pink gum. ‘I didn’t think a fine lady like you would make a racial remark like that. We hear and see things in a cab, Mrs Page, but we say nothin’.’

‘Unless there’s money in it for you,’ she muttered.

‘Unless there is money in it,’ he giggled.

They drove out through the front gates, Lorraine turning the interview over in her mind; she was sure it hadn’t been the playhouse that had so disturbed Mr Brown, but the foul-smelling doll she had shown him. She sighed. Maybe she shouldn’t have shown it to him, it didn’t do any good in the end, just added to their grief.

By 10.30 Rosie had decided that the amount she was offering was too little. The first cab company seemed not the slightest bit interested in whether or not they had a possible reward on offer for something left in a taxi maybe eleven to twelve months ago, which would entail hours of leafing through old record slips from the previous year. So she rethought her approach, and this time took a cab to the Hotel Cavagnal. She asked if they divided up the territory, cruised, or picked up fares by phone call, and was told that they did all three, so that was not much help. What was also not helpful was that the town was filling up rapidly as the preparations for Mardi Gras began in earnest. Bunting and flags were hung, large floral displays were being watered, and every shop window was being decorated. Posters of forthcoming events were being plastered on every available section of wall space, and the streets were beginning to throb with visitors arriving early for the parades.

Rosie got out at the hotel but did not go into the closed courtyard. Instead she walked a block up the street. Anna Louise had not booked a cab via the hotel, that they knew, so did she walk to the main intersection and flag one down? Rosie began to note all the different cabs passing backwards and forwards. A few even slowed down and asked if she needed a ride. Eventually she flagged down a persistent one which had passed her three times.

‘You look like you’re lost, ma’am,’ the driver said politely.

‘Nope, not lost. I’m looking for a special taxi cab. I’m from an insurance company, and whoever this driver is, could be in line for...’ She hesitated, wondering how much would be a good incentive. Then she stopped because she remembered Lorraine saying in one of their note sessions that Robert Caley had seen his daughter’s purse on the bed. So, did it mean she did not have any cash on her? If so, maybe someone from the hotel gave her a lift to wherever she went that night.

Rosie waved on her persistent cab driver and looked around for a phone box, she needed to talk to Lorraine.

She called the Browns’ house to find that Lorraine had already left. She then called the hotel, but neither Rooney nor Lorraine was there. She returned to the Cavagnal and hovered outside for a while, trying to make up her mind what she should do and watching two bell-boys carrying new guests’ luggage into the hotel, departing guests’ luggage out. For a smallish hotel there was a lot of activity. She heard one bell-boy shout over to the other as he struggled with a set of Hermès luggage.

‘The second-floor blue suite for those, Errol.’

Rosie sauntered across to the sweating Errol, wondering if Rooney had already questioned him.

‘Hi, I wonder if you could help me out?’ she said, smiling warmly.

‘Anything you need, ma’am,’ he said with a slight bow.

Rosie said that she was not a hotel guest, but needed to have a private conversation, and that she would pay for it. If he was unable to talk right that minute she could wait.

Errol pushed his pill-box hat up and gave a look around. ‘Well, what do you want to talk about?’

Rosie tried the direct approach. ‘Anna Louise Caley.’

He threw up his hands, and shook his head. ‘Lady, I been asked about that girl more times than I had wages slips. I don’t know nothin’ about her, and that is the truth.’

Rosie looked away, something she’d learned from watching Lorraine. ‘Fine, it’s just that I got five hundred dollars cash for a little bit of information.’

‘How little is this bit?’ he asked, toying with what Robert Caley had said, what he’d given him, and what the future might hold. But a car drew up and he had to get back to work.

‘I got a break in fifteen, why don’t you come back?’

Robert Caley asked the cab driver to stop about halfway down the street from Ruby Corbello’s house. He paid him off and told him if he wanted double his fare he should wait. He then walked down the road to the Corbellos’.

‘Why, Mr Caley!’ Juda said, and it pained her because she had such a hangover she could hardly lift her head.

‘Mrs Salina,’ he said, but without the surprise he felt at seeing her.

‘Come on in,’ she growled, and he looked from the doorstep to see if anyone was watching, but there was no one.

Caley sat in the kitchen, refused any refreshment, his mind ticking over as to whether or not he should ask after Ruby.

‘My sister and niece, Ruby, are out visiting a sick baby. I am here alone, and it’s good because it gives me an opportunity to talk to you straight.’

He nodded, wondering how much she knew and if she was about to try and blackmail him like her niece. It was all becoming too much, too heavy, and he loosened his collar.

‘I know you don’t like me and you never have,’ Juda said, as she poured a glass of root beer. ‘But now I am asking you to help me.’

‘You want me to help you?’ he said with a smile.

‘Yes, sir. I’ve just lost my life’s savings, my nephew stole it and I have come back here as penniless as I left over twenty years ago.’

Here it comes, he thought, wondering how much she wanted.

‘I want to stay on here, Mr Caley, I don’t want to go back to LA, I don’t belong there, this is my home.’

He looked at the stained wallpaper. This is going to cost heavy, he thought to himself, but he would not show that he had any indication. He’d just act innocent.

‘I can’t take care of your wife no more, Mr Caley, she drains me, she uses up everything I have, but I care for her and I don’t want to let her down. I feel guilty. I feel that she is my responsibility, and that has been the rope that has hung round my neck. I used to feel that in some way I was to blame, but I no longer believe that.’

‘Are you asking for money, Mrs Salina?’

‘No, sir, not money, I don’t want your money. I want you to get someone else for Mrs Caley because I am tired out and I want to stay here, move back in with my sister. I want to sell my lease on the apartment in Doheny Drive. I don’t want to go back there, Mr Caley.’

He coughed and ran his finger round his collar. ‘I’m still not sure I follow what you are asking from me, Mrs Salina.’

‘No, maybe you don’t, because you never took much interest, but you should know a lot from what Miss Elizabeth does. The way she behaves is because she can’t help it.’

‘I’m sure she can’t,’ he said brusquely, irritated by Juda, and then leaned across the table. ‘My wife takes drugs and alcohol like it is going out of fashion, she has an addictive personality.’

‘No, sir, she has a fear inside her that she is trying to obliterate. Now, you may not believe it, and you have that right, but she needs someone to control her demons. If she does not get help she will go out of her mind.’

He smirked. ‘So you are saying that she isn’t right now?’

Juda turned on him. ‘I am saying that you refuse to understand that your wife needs help, not from your clinics but from—’

‘People like you?’

She pushed her face closer. ‘Just what do you think I am, Mr Robert fucking Caley?’

He didn’t back off but leaned closer. ‘You blackmail my wife and hold her in some kind of terror, that’s all I do know.’

‘You are wrong. I am forced into trying to control the terror and what I am saying to you is that I can’t do it no more. I am old and I am tired out. She is your wife, you fleece her more than I never even begun to know how, but that is not my business. Mine is to help her, because unlike you, Mr Caley, I love her.’

‘Do you?’

‘Yes, sir, I do, but like I said, I am too old, so I am asking you to go back to her. I’ll find someone she can hold on to to help her in the way she needs helping.’

‘You mean someone who’ll feed her drugs?’

Juda sat back, shaking her head. ‘No, sir, I mean help her spiritually, that’s the only help I have ever given your wife.’

‘I am never going back to my wife, Mrs Salina.’

Juda stared at him and she felt cold, icy cold. The chill moved from her big, bloated feet up through her body. ‘Then why did you come here? To tell me that?’

He shrugged, he had come to see Ruby, all this was irritating and now all he wanted was to leave.

Juda stared at his handsome face; she saw his weakness and smiled. ‘You will never have the woman you want, Mr Caley, your heart is frozen over by greed. I think you should leave, I don’t want anything more to do with you.’

He eased back in his chair, about to stand up, when Ruby walked in. She gave him a nonchalant look, crossing to the fridge to take out a root beer for herself.

‘Why, if it isn’t Mr Robert Caley,’ she said as she banged open a drawer for the bottle opener.

‘You know each other!’ Juda said, surprised.

‘Sure we do, this is Anna Louise’s daddy. Am I right?’

Juda looked from Caley and back to Ruby, who opened her bottle and drank it down thirstily.

‘I used to work for Tilda Brown, Aunty Juda, you forgettin’? She was Mr Caley’s daughter’s closest friend. Isn’t that right, Mr Caley?’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ he said, staring at Ruby, unable to fathom out what was going on and how much Juda knew. From irritation he had slid into fear.

‘Mr Caley is opening up a big casino, Aunty Juda, gonna be a rich, rich man.’

Juda watched her niece, then Caley. She was confused as to what the undercurrent was about, but she could sense it, and see the hold Ruby seemed to have over him.

Ruby sidled up to Caley and flicked her hips at him. He moved away.

‘Mr Caley is a very sexy man and he likes them young and fresh, ’bout my age, is that not so, Mr Caley?’

He got up, moving as far away from Ruby as he could in the small kitchen. Juda could smell his fear, and she caught hold of Ruby as she passed her.

‘Mr Caley, would you wait in the hallway for a few moments if you please? I can see you want to talk to my niece.’

Caley eased past Juda and went into the hall. The kitchen door slammed shut behind him as Juda kicked it closed.

‘What’s going on, Ruby?’

Ruby sat on the edge of the table, sipping her root beer and enjoying outlining what she had found in Tilda Brown’s diary about Robert Caley. She gasped when the punch knocked her to the floor. Her beer bottle broke into fragments and she hunched up, terrified, as Juda picked up the damp dishcloth and began to swipe it at her so hard it made her eyes water. She covered her head, screeching, but then came the kicks and the slaps. It was as if Juda had gone crazy, and she kept up the onslaught until she had to sit down, exhausted. Her breath came in short sharp rasps.

‘You made that doll for Anna Louise Caley, didn’t you?’

Ruby began crying, scared of her aunt.

‘You shouldn’t have done that, Ruby, you did a terrible thing, you raised up evil.’

‘He’s evil, he was fucking that girl Tilda Brown.’

Juda kicked her so hard she crunched into a tight ball. She then ran the cold water and filled a tumbler full to the brim. Ruby didn’t see her swallow, all she saw was this massive looming figure leaning over her and spitting out a jet-spray of water. She tried to inch away, but Juda grabbed her hair and then pressed her hands tightly round the girl’s skull.

‘You got evil in you, girl, an’ I got to get it out.’

Caley stood in the dank hall, waiting. He couldn’t help but hear Ruby’s screams and sobs, and the strange high but deep voice of Juda Salina calling out words that he couldn’t make out. Eventually Ruby appeared, her hair wet and clinging to her face, and she was weeping.

‘Mr Caley, please don’t go.’ She knelt before him and clasped her hands together. ‘I am sorry I came and asked you for money, I meant no harm, I have never meant any harm. I will never ask you for anything again, I give you my word. Please, don’t you say anything about what I did, just as I won’t ever repeat what was in that poor girl’s diary.’

Caley was nonplussed as Juda walked out from the kitchen.

‘You go away from this house now, Mr Caley, Ruby will never bother you again, she has more important things to do with her life. We want no money from you, we don’t want anything from you.’

‘Is this true, Ruby?’

Ruby remained on her knees, nodding her head, and after a moment he left. Juda stood behind her.

‘You never do anything that’ll cause such pain again, Ruby, you hear me?’

‘Yes, Aunt Juda,’ she whispered.

‘You take in evil and it will possess you, do you understand? You got power, child, and it must not be used for the darkness, or darkness will seep into your soul and you will become its slave. You hear me?’

Ruby nodded, and then watched as her aunt eased her bulk on to her knees beside her.

‘You ask forgiveness now, Ruby.’

Ruby clasped her hands together. ‘What if we could get so much money, Aunt Juda, that’d help so many?’

‘We don’t ever want devil’s money because he’s sly and he always wants to be repaid. You must never be in debt to the devil. I’ve seen a woman who owes him, I don’t ever want that to happen to you. You got a future ahead of you, but you have to obey the spirits and take care of our own, just like Queen Marie.’

Ruby clasped her hands tighter, and whispered to Juda that she was afraid.

‘We all are, honey, every living soul is frightened at some point in their lives, but you can help guide people through that fear. You got to respect that power, never abuse it; love it and it will do good. Mr Caley will pay his own dues, you care only about your own, Ruby.’

Errol was rubbing his head, his bell-boy’s hat in his hands. ‘I love Ruby Corbello, I have loved her since high school, but she don’t seem to know I exist. Sometimes she walks past me on her way to Fryer Jones’s bar, swishing her hips, smiling that smile. I know she’s out of my league, I know that, but it won’t stop my heart fluttering like I was having some kind of attack. That is what she can do to me, make my heart beat faster than it should.’

Rosie nodded. ‘I know how you feel, I felt that way about someone for a long time. In fact I never would have believed he would love me, that’s how low my self-esteem was, Errol, but you know, two nights ago he asked me to marry him.’

‘You jibing me? Someone wants to marry you?’ He was wide-eyed with astonishment, not realizing the insult. To his mind, Rosie was so far removed from his beautiful Ruby Corbello it was hard for him to accept that anyone could love the fat woman who sat beside him. It made Rosie laugh.

‘I am telling you the truth.’

‘Maybe, Miss Rosie, it’s different for you, you maybe don’t understand about desire.’

‘Errol, you believe me. Fat, thin, ugly or beautiful, everyone finds their partner, and he or she becomes the most beautiful creature in the whole wide world,’ Rosie said with good humour.

‘You don’t understand, do you? You see, Ruby Corbello really is the most perfect woman God created. She’s a goddess.’

‘That worked as a maid for Mr and Mrs Brown until she was fired for thieving, and now is sweeping up hair off some floor. Some goddess, Errol.’ Rosie paused. ‘All I want to know is if you somehow helped Ruby Corbello pass over a package to Miss Anna Louise Caley, and if you knew what was in the package. You can be real honest with me because right now there are no police involved.’

Rooney returned to the hotel. He’d not been able to contact his cop as he was on patrol duty, but was told to call after lunch when he would be back in the office. Nor had he had any joy with the bell-boy, who’d been tight-mouthed, so it had been a pretty tedious morning so far. There was a message at the desk for him to call up to Lorraine’s room.

Rosie opened Lorraine’s hotel room door. She had a smug look on her face, so Rooney guessed she’d found out something, but she remained silent.

Lorraine came out of the bathroom looking worn out. ‘Right, I’ll start. My morning so far has been heavy, and pretty unproductive. Tilda Brown’s father broke down when he saw the playhouse he’d built for her to which she was going to bring her children to play — and that was the high point. The rest has been downhill, but I’ve still got a few more “close” friends to speak to. I hope they are more forthcoming than her local bible-thumper who said, and I quote, “Tilda Brown was an example to every young teenager. She was joyful, enthusiastic and ready to help anyone in need.” That this joyful bundle tied her own dressing-gown cord to the curtain rail and hanged herself seems to have escaped him. Only one kid, part of the choir that Tilda Brown used to sing in, boy called Eddie Mellor, said she had changed over the past six months. She used to be much more outgoing and friendly, but she had hardly spoken a word to anyone, and seemed to him to be in a very nervous state.’

Rooney coughed. ‘You mind if I say something?’

‘Sure, go ahead.’

‘Well, we’re hired to trace Anna Louise Caley, and you seem to have got side-tracked by this Tilda Brown girl.’

‘You saying I’m wasting my time, is that it, Bill?’

‘No, but we seem to be side-tracking, that’s all.’

Rosie told them how she had gone to the hotel, and had questioned Errol.

‘I did that too,’ Rooney muttered.

‘I know, I’d hoped I’d see you there,’ Rosie beamed at him.

‘I just got better results than you, because me and Errol had a good long conversation. He admitted that he had passed a note to Mr Caley, so he was lying about swimming, or maybe not exactly lying, just using it to cover up the fact that he was meeting Ruby Corbello. He said she had a conversation with Mr Caley, and after Caley had gone back to his room, Anna Louise saw him and Ruby talking in the courtyard; she beckoned to Ruby to come up, and Ruby asked him to smuggle her up the backstairs. This was, he said, around six o’clock. She was with Anna Louise for only ten minutes, and left the same way she had come in. And he said she was in a mighty hurry. Something we didn’t know before is that Errol saw Ruby Corbello again later that night, the night Anna Louise went missing, and it’d have been about seven-thirty, so she returned to the hotel.’

Lorraine flicked through her old note-book. ‘The Caleys said they went down to eat around that time, in the hotel restaurant.’

Rosie nodded. ‘Ruby, he said, was ducking and diving round the palm trees in the back of the courtyard. He’s in love with her and so he gets all angry as he thinks she’s meeting up with one of the other boys working at the hotel. Errol follows her, and she’s looking up at Anna Louise Caley who is bending over her balcony. Which means she was still in her room at seven-thirty.’

‘Yes, and?’ asked Lorraine impatiently.

‘Well, by the time Errol got to the balcony, or was standing underneath it, there was no sign of either of them, and he was on duty so he had to get back out front.’

Lorraine sighed. ‘That’s it?’

‘Yep. Now, this is just supposition, but Anna Louise could have also used the servants’ stairway, just like Ruby Corbello, to leave the hotel. That would mean she never passed the front desk, never took the elevator. It exits right round the back of the hotel near to the garbage collection, and a car could have been waiting for her.’

‘Mmm,’ Lorraine said, frowning as she crossed to her desk and searched around the top. ‘Need to know how long it takes from the hotel to Ruby Corbello’s house.’

Rooney and Rosie glanced at each other.

Lorraine was flicking through the maps and guides, chucking them aside, hunting for the street map she’d seen of the tourist attractions.

‘If Ruby Corbello left that hotel at six-fifteen, then returned at seven-thirty, that gives her just over an hour to make that doll, wrap it up, and take it back to Anna Louise.’

‘Unless she made it at Fryer Jones’s place,’ Rooney said.

Lorraine found the map and squinted over the small print. Then, tracing the route with her finger, she tapped impatiently on the table.

‘Maybe she did make it at Fryer Jones’s. If she didn’t, it was quite a schlep to her house unless...’

‘Somebody drove her there,’ Rosie suggested.

‘Yes, somebody drove her.’

All three of them stood by the trash cans outside the staff entrance of the Hotel Cavagnal. Rosie was to take the route to Fryer Jones’s bar and return, Rooney was to do the run to the Corbellos’. They both asked Lorraine the same question.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Talk to security. Okay, check watches and move!’

She was smiling as she watched them both charge off like kids at a sports day event. She noted how many people came and went via the staff entrance. Then she slipped inside and walked down a narrow corridor. A small staircase led off to the right at the far end, and she moved up the stairs until she came to a door marked, ‘PRIVATE — NO ENTRANCE TO ANY UNAUTHORIZED PERSON’. Lorraine opened the door; standing in front of it was a security guard. He didn’t even hear the door close behind him, as Lorraine continued up another flight of stairs till she reached Robert Caley’s floor. She had seen no one, had not been stopped at any point, and she did a U-turn back the way she came. Again she saw no one, but when she opened the door to leave, a security guard turned, frowning.

‘You staff here?’

‘No, I’m a guest,’ Lorraine said briskly, and gave the number of the suite she had used. He held up his hand, asked her name and dialled reception. When it was confirmed that the suite had been booked for Lorraine Page by Mr Robert Caley, he apologized but warned her that she should not have used the private staircase, it was for staff only.

‘I’m very impressed with the hotel security,’ she said, smiling.

He gave a small nod of his head.

‘Is this exit covered at all times?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘Day and night?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘How many officers are on security?’

‘Three, ma’am, we work in shifts.’

‘How long have you worked here?’

‘Five years.’

She nodded and kept smiling. ‘You were here then when Anna Louise Caley went missing?’

‘Yes, I was.’

‘I am employed by Mr Caley to trace his daughter, you were obviously questioned, as I believe most of the staff were.’

‘Yes, I was.’

Lorraine turned to face the staff door. ‘Maybe she left the hotel this way, that is why no one saw her leaving. Do you think it possible?’

He shrugged, not committing himself.

‘You have to take the odd break, so it could have happened?’

‘Guess so. Like you said, we take breaks, but usually we try and cover for each other.’

She smiled, and turned to face the small yard. ‘Do cars ever park down here?’

‘No, no parking allowed. If anyone parks here they get towed.’

‘But you could get picked up from here easily.’

‘Yeah, picking someone up is not parking, and some of the women working at night like to be met. There’s a lot of drunk guys in the French Quarter.’

‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’

‘The women like to feel safe.’

‘Is there a particular cab firm they use?’

‘Yeah, Gordon’s Cabs, staff use Gordon’s Cabs.’

Lorraine nodded. ‘But not the guests?’

He smiled. ‘No, ma’am, they not very luxurious. Just two brothers, one of ’em used to work here. You want their number?’

‘Thank you,’ Lorraine said pleasantly, and passed him ten bucks. He pocketed it fast, then took out a biro and jotted down a number on the back of a hotel card.

‘Thank you, I’m expecting two friends shortly. A plump woman and a big, red-faced man. Could you tell them to come up to my suite?’

Lorraine walked out on to the street and then round to the front lobby of the hotel. She had been lucky that Robert Caley had booked the suite for her. She got her key from reception, asking if Mr Caley was in his suite, and was very relieved to be told he was not. She then took the elevator to her floor. The room was wonderfully cool, and she sat on the bed and ordered some tea and cakes, then called Gordon’s cab firm. There was an answer-machine on but she left no message, deciding she’d call again. Her eyes kept drifting to the closed door to the adjoining suite, her body remembering the night she had spent there. She walked slowly towards it, knowing she would have to face Caley sooner or later. It was locked, and she pressed her face against the white glossy wood door with relief. But she couldn’t just forget their closeness, dismiss it, because it had been real. She had felt so loved for that night. Then she felt scared because she remembered Juda’s words about her being without love, and having been without it for a long time, and the sadness welled up inside her. That night had not been anything to do with love, but lust, and she was sure that Robert Caley had used her because he had been protecting himself, covering his tracks so she could not unearth the truth of how he had killed his daughter. She stepped briskly away from the door. She had said it to herself earlier, now she said it out loud, pointing to the adjoining bedroom door.

‘I am going to nail you, Robert Caley.’