Chapter Five

Five

J eannette was surprised by the smoothness with which the magician's "magic" worked. She was standing in the box, and then she was down and rising again, but in something that was moving lower and lower...

She ducked and smiled at herself as she realized she was back on stage already—just in the trunk instead of in the box.

She heard a cry of dismay from the audience.

Then the sound of footsteps and the magician talking.

Of course, it was all fine...

She heard him as he walked over to his trunk and tapped on it, and she popped up and accepted his hand to rise and stepped over the edges.

She was sincerely thanked and soundly applauded before she was able to leave the stage and make her way back to her seat. Daniel was standing, as were others in the audience, allowing her to pass and take her seat. He didn't appear to be enjoying the show. She frowned, looking at him before sitting down. He shrugged and gave his head a little shake, indicating he'd tell her later.

The magician ended his show, and the band played again as the audience exited.

They showed their special tickets and a man in a suit allowed them in the line to see the magician. There were several others who had backstage passes as well; Daniel indicated that they should let the others go first.

They did. And she smiled, showing Daniel, who seemed distracted, when the magician pulled a euro from a little boy's ear. The child was delighted, and to his credit the magician appeared equally happy.

He seemed to be a man who truly enjoyed others and wanted to make them happy. She realized she didn't even know his name.

That was easily solved. Daniel stepped forward, offering the magician his hand, and introducing himself as Daniel Murray and bringing her forward to introduce herself as his cousin, Jeannette LaFarge.

The magician, striking in his white shirt and black tux, greeted them effusively.

"My lovely new assistant!" he said to Jeannette. "Your cousin was wonderful on stage," he told Daniel. "Yes, I speak English," he quickly added, laughing. "I had an American grandmother. My name is Jules Bastien. And magic as well as entertaining kids and those who want to be kids is the joy of my life!"

"Well, you are incredibly good at what you do, Mr. Bastien," Daniel told him.

"Jules, and, like it or not," he said cheerfully, "I will call you Daniel and your cousin Jeannette!"

"We like it fine," Jeannette told him.

"I need to ask you about something not quite so happy," Daniel told the man, pulling out his phone. "We have a friend here, Shelley. She came to see your show with a few of her friends—girls she met here who were all on their dream trips to Paris—and three of them wound up dead. And I'm wondering if you saw them and saw if they went anywhere with anyone."

He had his phone out; the pictures of the dead girls as they were in life were on his phone.

Jules stared at the phone and then at Daniel. His face appeared to register true horror. Then he went off in French, speaking so quickly Jeannette doubted even Daniel understood a word he said.

Jules sank into his chair. Tears filled his eyes. Then he gave himself a shake, physically and mentally, Jeannette imagined.

"These...these are the girls on the news? Drained of blood... Oh, mon dieu! They...they were lovely, they were in the show, they came backstage. Mais oui , yes, yes, I knew them, I talked with them!"

"We are so sorry," Daniel said. "But as you can imagine, our friend Shelley is devastated. We were hoping that maybe you saw something..."

His face scrunched. "My mother was even here that night. She chatted with them back here, so very nice, she said they proved good manners and kindness could be found in every country in the world. Was someone watching them...? Did they meet up with someone after the show? Mais, oui! They met up with me at a café!"

Daniel and Jeannette stared at one another, surprised.

And naturally...

"No, no. No, no! I would never hurt these lovely ladies. They made the night for me. I had no idea, I... There are cameras! Not backstage, not below where...where magic is done," he said dryly. "But there are cameras. You can see who came to the show. In fact...there was a man. A man who came to see the show. And he was at the same café later."

"Did you know him?"

"No, but all our ticket sales are by credit card only." He lifted his hands in a lost manner. "I am not an accountant but I have one. For me... I employ him and my assistant and that is all. Each act here manages their own box office. My accountant says that the way to stay clean is by credit cards, all reported. So, if you think someone was here..."

His voice trailed and he looked both confused and suspicious.

"You are not Shelley's friends. You are police. But you are American."

Daniel nodded. "Special Agent LaFarge is not my cousin—she is my partner. We are with a special international force, which has been invited in."

"Of course, of course. Mon dieu. But...it will help, right? The tapes from the entry? I can show you the man who came to the performance and seemed to have followed us to the café. I thought that I had a fan. But...perhaps he followed them!" Jules said.

"That is more than possible. And we appreciate getting your security tapes. And if we may, we'll send in a sketch artist and you can describe this man for us as well, if you will."

"I will do anything. Anything," he said, shaking his head sadly again. "This is... It is so, so horrible. I can't... I didn't know... You know, you hear on the news about horrible things but you never think that they will touch you. So much worse for their families, but... I knew them! I wondered why Patricia did not respond to my calls!"

"They all gave you their phone numbers?" Jeannette asked.

"Just as I gave them mine."

"You really befriended them," Jeannette said. "Thank you for your help. We'll have someone come here—discreetly, of course—for that sketch and to collect the security tapes. Thank you. They'll come right away."

He nodded dully.

"I'm sorry if you intended to leave now—" Jeannette began.

"No, no. I want to help... I... Shelley! Shelley, she is all right?" he asked hopefully.

Daniel nodded. "She is fine."

"But—if the other girls were taken—" Jules began.

"Excuse me," Daniel said, stepping back.

As Daniel pulled out his phone to call Mason and tell him about Jules and the girls at the magic show, Jeannette continued to speak gently to the magician.

Unless Jules was truly a superb actor as well as magician, he was devastated by what he had learned.

Then again, Daniel had come across those who could lie incredibly well, cry on cue and fake emotion to a tee during his days working law enforcement.

Mason knew, of course, that Daniel and Jeannette were driving back to Reims for the night. However, he did suggest they stay until he was able to get someone else out there.

When he finished the call, Jeannette was talking to Jules about the boxes on stage.

"Patricia played your part when the girls came to the show," he said. He managed to give her a sad smile. "And she was like you, going along with the fall in the glass box and rise into the trunk. My assistant is usually there, below in the staging basement, explaining what happened."

He frowned in sudden panic. "But... mon dieu !" He went on in French, speaking quickly. Daniel caught the gist of it.

Jules didn't know where his assistant was.

"Marni is usually here, talking to people in line... Did she speak to you when the box fell?" Jules asked Jeannette.

"No one spoke to me," Jeannette told him.

Jules shook his head, heading to the double doors that led from his greeting room. "I don't know where Marni is... Now that you've shown me those pictures..."

"Let's check the show security team and the video. Maybe she had to leave suddenly, a family matter," Jeannette suggested, gently setting a hand on his arm.

"Security, yes. I must ask Nils, he might know... It's so chaotic when the show ends, maybe she told him where she was going. I don't..."

He stopped speaking. And Daniel could quickly see why. His "lovely assistant" was in street clothing, a maxi dress and jacket, and she was limping her way to him, speaking in French, her words hurried and upset.

Jules let out a sigh, shaking his head. Daniel turned to Jeannette and started to tell her what he had understood.

"She tripped when she was heading down to make sure that the box and trunk worked smoothly and the volunteer didn't panic," Daniel said.

"And a guest using the restroom heard her cry out and got her to her dressing room—it was lucky the guest was a nurse and found a wrap for her ankle in their emergency medical kit," he explained.

Jeannette nodded. "And she's so sorry!" she said softly.

He nodded.

Marni and Jules began a rapid dialogue with the magician assuring his assistant he wasn't angry in the least, he was just so relieved to see her.

As they talked, they heard a bit of a commotion at the end of the hallway.

Daniel saw that Luke Kendrick had arrived with another man, the sketch artist or tech with the French police.

He and Jeannette could leave for the trip back to Reims. But he realized Jeannette had never met Luke, so he introduced the two. Then Luke explained that Carly and Della were still working other angles, but the communication there seemed to be great; he'd had a man meet him almost immediately who was ready to go work with Jules on a sketch.

Luke Kendrick was a tall man, an inch over Daniel's six-three, with a lean face, striking green eyes and a reassuring manner. Jeannette greeted him warmly as Luke told her he'd heard all about her from Mason. They were delighted to have her on the team.

Jules and Marni watched them, frowning.

Daniel realized Marni knew nothing about the murders of the women Jules had met during the show. Tears stung Jules's eyes again as he explained; Marni was horrified as she held his hands and shook her head.

"Only Shelley... Only Shelley is still...alive!" Jules said.

Marni closed her eyes and hung her head in horror. She spoke English fluently as well, it seemed, because she looked up at them all and said softly, "We've all seen the news, of course! One would need to be deaf and blind to have missed it! But that we had met the young women, that they were here..."

She shuddered in fear herself.

"Nils and I will see you home safely!" Jules told her.

"Great idea," Jeannette said. "Everyone must be very, very careful."

"Shelley..." Jules murmured.

"Don't worry. Shelley will not be taken," Daniel said firmly. He handed the man one of their cards. "Please, help my colleague Luke now. The man you're talking about may be guilty of nothing except watching pretty women. But...all our numbers are on this card. So please, call if you see anything—or anyone. If you see this man again or anyone behaving suspiciously in any manner whatsoever, please."

"Oh, I do so swear!" Jules said passionately.

"I've got this," Luke told him. Daniel smiled.

He and Jeannette turned to leave at last.

"And you thought we'd be useless at the magic show," he murmured.

"Well, the fact that Jules saw this man may mean nothing," she murmured. "Then again..."

"Then again?"

"He is a hell of a magician," Jeannette said, looking at him. "Maybe he's a hell of a killer, too—one able to make a performance out of a pack of lies. Though maybe..."

"Maybe?"

"There's Marni. The disappearing assistant," Jeannette stated.

"What do you think might have really caused her to disappear? Not a magician's wand, that's for sure!"

"No," Jeannette agreed, "not a magician's wand. But we will have something..."

"Video. It may help us. And credit card receipts."

"Here's hoping," Jeannette said as they reached the car. "And still..."

"Still?"

"It's a long drive!" She shrugged and grimaced, looking his way. "Maybe I'll take a bit of a nap."

"Yes, sleep away," he told her.

"If only. I will be going over everything we saw and heard in my mind the entire way. Isn't it too bad we don't have switches for our minds? Like it's time to rest, so let's turn off?"

He grinned back at her. "That's why you're good at what you do," he told her. "The car is just ahead."

He pointed to the car. But Jeannette paused. Looking down the road, she saw a small medieval church. It wasn't one of the grand cathedrals, but it was a beautiful period building and it was surrounded by a churchyard.

"Do you think that..."

"That there might be dead people in the cemetery?" Daniel asked dryly.

"Daniel!"

"Sorry, I guess...we'll take a quick walk. But do you really think some random soul is going to be able to help us?"

"Only if they saw something," Jeannette said.

She paused at the front of the church where she could read that it had been founded and built in 1785. Gothic pillars rose to beautiful arches; cherubs or angels seemed to dance above them.

The graveyard surrounding the church was equally atmospheric. It was beautiful and charming with aging marble and stone and funereal statues, crosses and more.

"Interesting architecture. It was built just four years before the start of the French Revolution," she murmured.

"A ten-year war, in essence, with Napoleon rising at the end to compromise the ideals he supposedly believed in when he declared himself emperor," Daniel said. "He was probably one of the greatest military commanders the world has ever seen. But..."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely?" Jeannette asked.

"I'm not a student of the French Revolution," he said with a shrug. "But... Well, the man went into exile, made it back to power and then went into exile a second time. Oh, I understand he allowed slavery again in French colonies—not so nice by my book."

"And the United States fought the Civil War to end slavery," Jeannette said. "And we still haven't stamped it out across the world! But—"

"My point is just that people are...people. You know." He gave a little shudder. "The guillotine was supposed to be a humane way to execute someone. Except..."

"Except!" a quiet voice broke in. "Can you imagine the emotional agony as one is led to the guillotine, set into the structure, awaiting the fall of the blade?"

They were walking alongside a low stone wall. Beyond it were numerous graves. Fine angels stood guard over many sites, family tombs rose high above the ground and handsome aging memorials dotted the place. But the voice didn't come from the graveyard.

It came from behind Jeannette and she turned quickly, startled—even though she'd hoped to find a remaining soul to help them.

The woman standing behind them had been about forty at her death. She had a serene smile, and she seemed amused, perhaps because she had drawn a reaction from Jeannette. Her apparel seemed to be pre-Victorian. She wore a corset, a corset cover, a petticoat, or a pannier, all in shades of blue. Her hair was secured at her nape and a blue ribbon was threaded through it.

"Except?" Jeannette said. "You speak English?"

The woman seemed startled. "You hear me clearly," she said.

Jeannette and Daniel both nodded.

"Two...two who see and hear me, oh, one can go years and years! Well, then, hello! Bonjour! Dear young sir!" she told Daniel. "You will forgive me. My English is American English, and you are a Brit, are you not?"

"Scottish," Daniel told her.

She nodded safely. "And you, dear mademoiselle, are American!"

"I am," Jeannette told her. "Jeannette LaFarge and this gentleman is Daniel Murray."

"The pleasure is mine," she told him. "Mademoiselle Henriette Beaumont. I was in awe of the Americans when they gained their independence, and so my English is theirs! Oh! And I fear I may promise you that the guillotine was quick—but you are right. Knowing you are about to meet the blade... Terrifying! And yet, it was so important to me to meet that blade showing no fear. So much was so very wrong with our feudal society and the king's refusal to see to our freedoms...but! I'm sorry, I fathom now you were seeking help from someone...physically departed from this world?"

"What happened to you?" Jeannette asked, forgetting her own quest. She couldn't imagine the horror of knowing she was going to be executed.

Their new friend sighed softly. "I spoke out," she said. "But...but now, I have been able to see the world change. Sometimes I wish I could shake people and remind them we must respect one another, that we are all human, but...but I have seen good things, too! So, how may I help you?"

"There is someone here in Paris or in Reims who is murdering women, killing them, draining them of blood," he said.

"I have seen the news," she told them sadly, shaking her head. "I fear I cannot tell you who is doing this."

"Have you seen anything unusual?" Daniel asked her. "Three of the women most recently killed were at the magic show just a block over. Then they were at a café, which I believe is right around the corner. Did you see anything of interest?"

Henriette was quiet and thoughtful.

"Will you come back to see me?" she asked. "I have a few friends, a few who have also lingered, who—" she paused, smiling "— haunt that café for the rich smell of the coffee and the large-screen television there."

"We must travel back out to Reims tonight," Jeannette told her. "But we can come back. We would so appreciate anything you might tell us!"

"Are you looking for a loved one?" she asked, her brows furrowing with the pain she was feeling for them.

"We are law enforcement," Daniel explained. "Part of an international force. We were asked here by the French police."

"Because they know you speak with the dead?"

Jeannette looked at Daniel and then shook her head. "No, they don't. But we are part of an agency in the United States that recognizes others with our gifts and...we have a good solve rate," she told Henriette. "So..."

"That is so wonderful. I will do all that I can to help you," Henriette promised. "But you must understand that...well, even being dead, we only see what we see."

"We understand that," Daniel assured her. "And we are eternally grateful for anything that you tell us—any little clue can make a difference."

"But you are going to Reims," Henriette said.

"We will do a tour and some investigation but return tomorrow night," Jeannette told her.

"Then find me here. I will wait by the large statue of St. Michael there, beyond the stone wall and beneath the archway of trees. Midnight?"

"Midnight!" Jeannette promised.

Daniel was smiling at the woman as he shook his head. "I am so grateful we found you—or that you found us."

Henriette smiled. "I like to think that I remain to help. I was able to see the French Revolution through to fruition. Now...well, I have not left this plane of existence, and so I feel that I remain to help. I am grateful to do so."

"I wish I could hug you," Daniel said.

She laughed. "I will hug you!"

She enveloped him, and he looked over her shoulder at Jeannette, grimacing from the cold.

Then she stepped back and said, "Get going! It is a bit of a drive to Reims."

"Yes, it is. And thank you!" Jeannette said.

Not really thinking, she grabbed Daniel's hand and they started down the street together. She realized, as they neared the car, what they were doing.

And she released him. He didn't seem to notice one way or the other.

"That was a great idea! You are incredible!" he told her.

She smiled. "Uh—thanks! It was just an idea. And she didn't know anything—"

"But she may find out something. And...this is why I wanted so desperately to be part of the Krewe—part of Blackbird!" he told her. "And I didn't think of such a thing, but...Jeannette, you are the most amazing partner!"

"Well, thank you. You're not so bad yourself," she told him.

"Feel free to nap," he told her as they got into the car.

"I just might do that. No, never mind. I won't turn off. I'll keep you company. Let's move onward and hope..."

"Hey. A tour tomorrow. How bad can it be?" he asked.

"Never, never, ask that question! Because sometimes," she warned him, "you get to find out!"