Chapter Seventeen

Seventeen

"W e found one book," Jeannette said thoughtfully, "but not the other."

She and Daniel had returned to the Matisse bed-and-breakfast to wait for Jules. After they arrived, they weren't worried about going in.

The car Luke and Carly had for the case was in the drive. If they were there, they could be assured no one had infiltrated their mini headquarters.

Luke and Carly were at the dining room table with their computers out to study the video footage.

"You two are like bloodhounds," Luke said, looking up as they came in.

Daniel groaned. "That skeleton was set up because someone wanted it found."

"But then a finger bone—a single finger bone?" Carly asked.

"That was it. The sun just happened to catch it," Daniel explained. "I didn't go any farther nor start digging. Like the skeleton setup at the tree—whoever that bone belonged to has been in the ground a long time. I don't believe even a medical examiner will be able to do anything other than give us an estimation on how long the bone—or the skeleton—has been there."

"And...did you find your friend?" Carly asked Jeannette.

Jeannette nodded. "He showed us the skeleton."

"It's nice when we have help," Carly said lightly. "And now..."

"Now, Jules is on his way here. We're going to go and visit with his mama," Daniel said.

"Well, she was in the restaurant," Luke said, leaning back. "Come around and look," he told them.

They did. Luke hit keys on the computer and footage rolled back.

"This was taken from a traffic light down the street. It shows you the entire block. There's the entrance to the restaurant. And there...walking and chatting with people as she passes..." Luke pointed out.

"Delphine Matisse," Daniel said.

"Ah, but that's not all," Luke told him, hitting computer keys to roll the film back again. "Those workers...they go to the Deauville winery. And right behind them..."

"Monsieur Deauville himself," Carly murmured, "without his wife."

"Ah, but not to leave out the Montague duo," Luke said, once again rolling the footage. "There is Leticia Montague herself with a man who I believe manages the fermenting section of her operation."

"Ah, with a man who is not her husband," Daniel murmured.

"No, but he shows up later. As does Giselle. So, every one of our vintners came in earlier on the day we were at the restaurant when blood showed up in the chalice," Carly said.

"That's the problem. Everything we do leads us back to all three houses. If we could eliminate just one of them, it would help," Daniel said.

"Ah, but you're off to try to accomplish such a feat," Luke said.

Jeannette sat across from Carly and nodded. "Did you two look at that book we found in the closet last night?"

"We did," Carly told her.

"It's something of a tome," Jeannette said. "But did you notice the part where one of her servants—brought to trial—testified that Elizabeth Báthory kept a book? A journal. And in it, she listed all those she tortured and killed. Now, the book was never found—"

"Perhaps because it was a lie? She might have been guilty of a lot—but not everything?" Luke suggested.

"Possibly. But—"

"This book does rather give credence to the concept that Delphine—or someone—is fascinated by the idea of the Báthory killings. Everything about her became legendary—truth and fiction," Luke said. "Bram Stoker based his book on Vlad Dracul of Transylvania. During Elizabeth's lifetime, her uncles and cousins were rulers of Transylvania, now Romania and not part of Hungary. Though it's in none of his notes, many people believe Elizabeth Báthory was the true inspiration for Stoker's book. And I guess," Luke murmured, "with what we've seen and now this book being found here, in a place owned by a Matisse, the suggestion that someone is in love with the worst depravity of the legend might be very true. What I don't get is this—why were the last bodies just drained of blood and left out so that someone would definitely find them?"

"Maybe the game itself wasn't fun enough anymore," Daniel suggested.

"We will never really understand the workings of the mind of a psychopath," Jeannette said. "And though I'm no psychiatrist or even a profiler, I think we are looking at a truly twisted mind, someone who has absolutely no empathy for others, no regret for any deed, no matter how cruel or heinous. But here is what I'm hoping to find today. I think that our modern Báthory, be they a he or a she or both, kept a journal. It's something Delphine might have in her private quarters. If we are looking at her and the sweeter-than-sugar thing is all an act, then if not a journal, maybe I'll find something and if not..."

"We're just back to being certain one of them is involved. No one else would have the ability to blackmail, coerce, bribe or frighten others into creating this operation where young women are kidnapped for someone else to torture or murder," Daniel said.

"Reading that book...it was so interesting," Carly said. "I was ready to believe she was framed, but apparently, it's true that bodies were found and the killings had been going on for a very long time. But many things regarding all that went on seemed to have disappeared, and that's too bad because the truth can't be known. The best we can do is dissect the legend."

"And a huge debt was canceled, and her relatives benefitted from her confinement," Daniel commented. "There you go—a puzzle we never will solve. But this one, we must."

"Amen to that," Luke murmured.

There was a tap at the door. Jeannette knew Jules had a key. And with a household of guests, it was unlikely any of them would be running around undressed. Still, his mother owned the place, but it was polite to knock and he did.

Good magician, bad magician?

"Let's head straight out," Daniel said. "He may need to get back to Paris soon."

The two of them nodded a goodbye to Luke and Carly, then walked to the door, ready to go straight out. As they had expected, it was Jules who stood there.

"I saw them again," he said, looking distraught. "I know you mentioned there was more going on. Police... Medical examiners. And there's been another murder," he said sickly.

"Someone is playing games," Daniel said. "There was a murder, but it happened long ago. Someone thought it would be funny to put skeletal remains in a bizarre display. Whoever it is, they've been dead for ages. But..." He paused, shaking his head.

"What do you think my mother can tell you that she hasn't already?" Jules asked. "I don't mind, I'm sorry. No, I'm horrified, and then last night...blood from a bottle with a fake label from our house. You do realize someone is trying to frame my mother?"

"We think that's highly possible," Daniel told him. "Highly possible. And we're so sorry. We know you need to get back—"

"No, no, it's all right. I have a friend appearing for me. And if anyone gets upset, they'll get a refund. My money," he said a little defensively. "I am good, and I do well at the box office."

"Jules! We've seen your show a few times. You're great!" Jeannette assured him.

"Maybe not great," he said, his tone a little lighter at last, "but good!"

"Is the lovely young assistant Marni getting her chance tonight?" Daniel asked him.

Jules let out a soft sigh. "No, she's not ready to take the stage herself. She wants to be, but she needs to have many more practice sessions before she's ready. There's nothing that can ruin a career faster than a magician doing a bunch of tricks that don't work," he said. "I have a friend who does events all over France, and he happened to be available tonight so it worked out fine."

"We're really glad to hear that, Jules," Jeannette said sweetly. "We don't want to do anything that will jeopardize your livelihood—your dream."

He smiled at that. "Thank you. Sincerely. Thank you."

They were still standing at the door.

"Oh!" he said. " Pardonnez-moi! We need to go, right?"

Jeannette laughed. "Well, we should go, yes. I am glad we're not going to spend the afternoon worrying about your schedule!"

"Shall I drive?" Daniel suggested. "We can bring you back for your car."

"Sure, that would be fine," Jules agreed.

Jeannette insisted he take the front seat, and she crawled behind Daniel, saying that her legs were shorter.

And they drove out.

Soon, they passed the point in the road where the police cars, Gervais's car and other official vehicles were parked on one side. She watched as Jules stared out the window, obviously dismayed.

"The news," he said mournfully. "The news media. In English, in French...in every language, people latch onto anything—say anything. There was a post this morning that warned against Matisse wines—that they might contain blood."

"That will pass. The House of Matisse will be vindicated," Jeannette said.

"But what is going on?" he demanded. "How and why would anyone want to do this to my mother?"

"A very sick mind," Daniel told him.

"But whoever is doing this, it's likely they are walking around acting normal!" Jules exclaimed.

Daniel shrugged. "Sadly, history is filled with killers who were quite charming and walked around normally. In the States alone, you had Ted Bundy, a very charming man who easily lured his victims, often by pretending he needed help. We were on a recent case involving a killer with the H. H. Holmes Society, who idolized a man whose real name was Herman Mudgett, one who was apparently cordial and even charming throughout countless schemes."

"Not that Leticia or Giselle could ever be considered charming," Jules said, making a face.

"I'm sure they're charming to someone," Daniel said.

Jules started to laugh. "Those two? No, I don't think so. They don't need to be charming to anyone. They say what they want and they get it."

"Well, now, come on. They're good when they're giving their little speeches about their houses and their wines for the tour groups," Jeannette reminded him.

"Okay. True," Jules agreed. "But charming..." He stopped speaking, frowning intensely. "Now, my mother is charming. Everyone likes her. She is as polite to a waiter as she is to her richest friend! I hope that—"

"No, Jules, no. We can see what is being done to your mother. And," Jeannette added, "I'm so glad Gervais LaBlanc immediately knew the label of the so-called bottle from the Matisse vineyards was fake!"

"Gervais spends most of his time in Paris, but he does come out here," Jules said. "He has been here—in Reims and the wine region—for various social events, fundraisers for disasters around the world as well as in France. He's a good man. And I'm grateful."

"Just as we are for help," Daniel assured him.

"The drive is just ahead," Jules pointed out.

"I see it. Thank you," Daniel told him.

They entered the elegant and expansive drive. Getting out of the car, Jeannette again admired the historic beauty of the house and grounds.

Jules saw her staring. He grinned. "Don't worry. I love the house. I have assured my mother I will never let it go. One day I will have children, and they just might want to be the rulers of a wine dynasty!"

Jeannette laughed. "It really is magnificent," she told him.

"I am aware of that. And I am not in the least ungrateful!" He pointed toward the entry. "I see that my mother has been waiting for us."

Delphine was at the open door. She appeared distraught and anxious for them to come in.

"Please, please, come in, and of course, you are welcome here! I...am still so upset over the events of last night! I can only swear...here! On the life of my only child that I had nothing to do with blood in a wine bottle!"

"Thanks," Jules murmured.

"Jules, darling—" Delphine began, growing more anxious.

"I understand!" he assured her. "It's all right!"

"Well, come in. Please. Please."

They came in and went back to the massive dining room. Naturally, she'd seen to it that the table was set with café au lait and different pastries.

"You didn't need to go through all this trouble," Jeannette told her. "But thank you."

"Have you dined recently?" she asked.

"Madame, we have not, and this is truly kind," Daniel told her.

"Sit, please," Delphine said.

That day, Jeannette and Daniel went to one side of the end of the table, and Delphine and Jules went to the other. Delphine immediately set them up with plates and café au lait .

Daniel had told the truth; they hadn't eaten recently.

And it would be so rude, Jeannette determined, if she didn't have one of the delicacies before taking her phone call and walking out to explore what she could of the house.

Daniel was hungry; he was quick to thank Delphine for a petite sandwich and applaud its deliciousness.

"Have they discovered anything, anything at all? Who could have done that? Well, whoever did is the one who murdered that poor girl," Delphine said. "Obviously, I believe. How else could they have a wine bottle filled with her blood? I know that police techniques are quite incredible these days. Have they discovered who created that awful label, who brought the wine to the cellar?"

"Delphine, the only prints on the bottle belonged to the sommelier," Daniel told her regretfully. "They are still examining the label and hopefully they might discover more through that."

"What do you think is happening?" Daniel asked Jules. "You know these people way better than we do."

"Maman," Jules said, looking over at his mother and asking, "you know me. May I have a bit more sugar?"

Jeannette was a bit surprised at her smile. Of course, she was also surprised Delphine didn't have a housekeeper, someone in the kitchen ready to respond to her every whim. She obviously had to have a cleaning staff—no one could handle such a large place on their own even if they lived alone.

"Jules," she said, shaking her head but smiling. "He has such a sweet tooth! I will be right back."

She rose, smiled and headed to the kitchen.

Jules shook his head, leaning forward. "I'd rather she not hear what I have to say on this. For my mother's sake, I am a cordial and decent human being to the Deauvilles and Montagues. They don't always return the favor. My mother asked them to come to my show once. At first, they didn't want to come. Then, a few years back, they decided that they would. I remember that it was a great night; every move was perfect. I worked with a rabbit and a raven that night and both animals were amazing at their cues." He glanced back at Jeannette. "They work for treats, obviously, but there is never a guarantee with an animal. Anyway...after, they were annoyed that if people chose, they could get tickets that included a backstage or meet-the-magician pass. They were horrified that I met with the crowd, and my mother was going to wait for me so that we could get a bite to eat together after the show. Yes, it's a long drive back for them but I can't tell you the amount of times my mother has gone out of her way for them. Anyway, she had ridden in with Giselle and her husband, and they just couldn't be out that late. They didn't know I felt so desperate, I had to try to entertain the audience afterward." He smiled suddenly and shrugged. "To her credit, my mother didn't hit anyone. After that, relations with them were a bit strained. They all think that even as a successful magician, I'm just playing tricks like a schoolboy. The childish antics should have been out of my system a long, long time ago."

"I think your mother is probably more annoyed they're so ignorant really, as to how important entertainment is in our world," Jeannette told him. "And what matters is your relationship with her. It sounds to me as if she sees them when it's necessary but that..."

"Oh, she has friends! Most of them are in Paris. One of her best friends is an artist who loves my show, so that's very nice," Jules assured her. He straightened, smiling, as his mother returned with a sugar container. " Merci , Maman, merci !" he told her.

She shrugged, grinning, and sat down. But then, looking at Jeannette and Daniel, she grew somber again.

She looked over at Jules and shook her head. "I don't know. I just don't know. It is very difficult to believe this of any of them, but...I did not do this! I did not kill anyone. I did not create a bottle of Matisse wine with blood in it!"

"But have you ever seen your fellow vintners be violent in any way?" Daniel asked her.

"Well, I have seen both Giselle and Leticia scream horribly at their workers," Delphine told them.

"We've seen that, too," Jeannette assured her.

"Did one of them ever scream at you?" Delphine asked, taken aback.

"No," Jeannette assured her. "We heard Leticia when we were on the wine tour. Before our group came in, she was angry with someone. And Giselle Deauville... Our server spilled a drop or two of wine, and Giselle was extremely angry. It wasn't perfect, and of course, they always strive for perfection."

"And the world just isn't perfect," Delphine murmured. She looked at her son and then at Jeannette and Daniel again. "Unless they're disparaging my son—which I don't tolerate—I don't say or do anything mean-spirited. I just immediately let it be known it's not a topic they may discuss. I don't have any issues with them. I have seen all of them yell and treat those who work for them badly. Oh, we don't discuss the house I own and rent out in Reims—the place where you're staying. Renting property is not something that should be done by a woman of my position. But... I love the house!" she told them. "And I love when someone new to the area comes and then tells me about a visit to the cathedral or how they were blown away by the beauty of the architecture. And those who rent the house almost always come on the wine tour, and it is a nice thing to know just a little about the many travelers from around the world who come here."

Daniel leaned forward. "Delphine, think. At any point in your life, did you ever see any of them strike out at someone, get into a physical fight or even—"

"The dog!" she said suddenly.

"The dog," Jeannette said. "What about the dog?"

"A stray... I was leaving a party at the Deauville home," Delphine said. "And there was a little white puppy, obviously lost from somewhere—"

"Or perhaps even tossed out of a car," Jules put in. "People who don't consider themselves evil wind up with animals they can't keep and just let them go wherever."

Delphine waved a hand in the air. "We don't know where the dog came from. But he was...relieving himself on Tomas's Maserati. He went after the poor creature with one of his golf clubs and—"

She paused, looking at Jules.

Jeannette stared at Jules, hoping against hope Tomas hadn't bashed the creature's head in.

They were dealing with possibly dozens of murders involving human beings...

She couldn't help it. She didn't want to hear a horror story about a dog.

But Delphine was looking at her son so that Jules could finish the story. "I was only about thirteen at the time," he said. "And I loved dogs. Still do. I saw him, and I went running out and put myself between him and the dog. I took a good whack to the arm—I'm so happy I didn't break it. A friend of mine from school had come with us to the party, and he went after the terrified puppy while I screamed and cried. My mother had a fit. Tomas told my mother it was my fault—I shouldn't have interfered. If I hadn't, I'd have never gotten hurt."

"What happened to the dog?" Jeannette couldn't help but ask.

"We named him Chiot, puppy in English, and kept him. He lived on another thirteen years, all through my college days," Jules said.

"Thank you!" Jeannette said.

Jules grinned at her. "I figured you were worried."

"What about Leticia and George?" Daniel asked. "Any violence at any time in any way?"

Delphine was thoughtful. "I've seen Leticia grab a maid by the hair and yank it," she murmured. "And years ago..."

"Years ago?" Daniel asked.

"George was huge into sports."

"What kind of sports?" Jeannette asked.

"Football—oh, I'm sorry. Soccer to you. And...he was on the wrestling team at his school, but he never competed professionally. His father died when he was about eighteen. He had to leave the school he had been attending and return here to take over. He'd been groomed for it all his life, and he even knew that he'd marry Leticia from the time he was a teenager."

"It was an arranged marriage?" Jeannette said, surprised. "In this day and age?"

"Her father owns a vineyard in the south of France, and she came with the right pedigree and the right money," Delphine said. She lifted her hands. "I'll be honest with you, I'm afraid my story is much the same. My father was a vintner. I have a brother who is now managing my family's vineyard in Marseille."

"You were in an arranged marriage?" Jeannette asked her.

"Not quite so simple as that," she said, smiling. "My husband and I knew each other for many years. I wasn't forced into the marriage. It was considered a proper one, and I cared for my late husband, Jules's father, deeply."

"My father was a good man, a good father," Jules said.

"That's wonderful," Jeannette told him.

Daniel looked at Jeannette, smiling, but she knew what he was thinking.

This is more messed up than what we expected in the twenty-first century!

And the stories they were hearing might well point to those who had been witnessed being violent to others—including dogs.

But more than that...

It had been the Deauville couple who had employed a man they knew to have been involved. And it was Giselle who had been so inviting to their young friends at the wine tasting, the young friends who had come so close to being forced into the van.

But there was still no solid evidence.

And Jeannette's job here wasn't to engage in conversation, although, of course, that's exactly what Delphine and Jules assumed she was here to do.

She needed to find a time soon to excuse herself.

And to begin a search that couldn't completely exonerate Delphine, but might help them in clearing her if there was nothing...

And yet only a fool would keep something that would implicate them right where they lived. The only thing that just might be "personal" and stuffed into a drawer was a journal...

Even one that was coded, a memory for a killer, nothing to someone who didn't know to look between the lines.

She was reaching, of course. She could look and find no book, and it would mean nothing. But then again, her strange instincts on this case had been right so far, or so it seemed.

Jeannette feigned a jump and pulled out her phone, pretending to study the screen. "Oh! May I, um, excuse myself and wander into the parlor?" she asked. "My family. My brother's wife was expecting when I left, and I have an update coming in here... He wants to talk to me and he's going to be a new dad, and he's so anxious!"

"Of course!" Delphine told her.

"I'm here, it's okay!" Daniel assured her. "Delphine, Jules, you don't mind talking to me, do you? I'm learning so much from you both that could prove to be helpful to us."

"No, no, it's fine," Jules assured him.

"Enjoy the art as you talk!" Delphine told her. "My husband collected many beautiful pieces, paintings and sculptures!"

"Take your time. Calm him down," Daniel said.

Jeannette hurried out to the parlor.

There she discovered that Delphine was right. She recognized a Dalí and a few other paintings just by walking through, looking for the stairway—and hoping the ghost of Jake Clayton was there, and he might direct her to Delphine's private spaces—boudoir and dressing room.

She did find Jake. As she strode across the parlor, seeking a staircase, he came hurrying down the steps.

"Jake!" she said. "I can't take forever. Did you discover where Delphine's bedroom is?" she asked him.

"I know where it isn't, but that's not why I hurried to find you," he told her.

"Why?" she asked him.

"There are other people here. Out back. I saw a man. He was looking into one of the windows!"

"There's no security on this house? There must be!" Jeannette said.

"There is, but I don't believe the alarm is set now. I don't believe the woman hires a full-time or live-in housekeeper. But someone has been wandering around out back."

"And they are there now?"

Jake shook his head. "I don't see them. But..."

"Right. They could still be out there somewhere. All right. Let me do what I'm trying to do quickly, get back to Daniel and then find out what's going on. You said you know where her bedroom isn't—"

"The others are immaculate guest rooms, a library... Her room must be at the end of the right wing of the hallway up there. It's the only place I didn't get to," he told her.

"Thank you!"

Jeannette started for the stairway but he didn't follow her. She paused, looking back. He was walking by the front, searching through the windows, trying to see if anyone was still out there.

He managed to move a drape. She smiled. If there was someone out there...

He would see them.

They would not see him.

Jeannette hurried on up the stairs. And he was right. The room she entered at the far end of the right wing was obviously Delphine's. It was elegant. It offered embroidered draperies that were open now, exposing a balcony that looked out far over the vineyards.

The bed was covered with embroidered satin. But Jeannette was interested in the drawers of the dressing table that offered a large mirror and a chair. Perfumes and other personal accessories sat atop it. There were six drawers and she opened them one by one.

Nothing. Lingerie, lingerie, nightgowns...a drawer of hairbrushes.

She moved quickly, glancing at the closet and the open door to the en suite bathroom. She thought that she saw a stain on the white-painted wood of the door and she hurried toward it. She didn't touch it, but it appeared to be...

A smudge. In blood.

She pushed the door to the bathroom and opened it. She saw a large bathtub and...

For a moment, she just stared. Stunned.

The tub was filled to the brim with a red liquid...

She walked closer.

Yes, a ruby red liquid, and it was...

Blood.

She pulled out her phone. Daniel had to be warned. Now.

But even as she tried to hold the phone and call him, her fingers suddenly felt like lead and she realized that there was a strange scent in the room.

She tried to hit a number...

Too late.

She didn't know if her fingers had hit it or not.

She sank to the floor, the world turning from red to stygian black, and she keeled over, swept into that complete and total darkness.