Big Easy Evil Read online

  “I—I heard about that,” she said. “And I’m assuming it was easy for people to believe the man chose to disappear. Or, he was murdered by someone in the swamp, and either they or a gator came to get rid of the body. She was arrested though, right?”

  “She was arrested, but let go the same day. There was no body. The police thought the husband had left her on purpose—or fled his military duty and probably the country. Thing is, I found something else. There was another murder at about the same time—over in Algiers. This one was…well, actually, it happened right before Nathan Amory disappeared. The body wasn’t found for…a long time. Anyway, it was a Gordon Hampton; he was found in an abandoned bar—when neighbors finally noted the odor emanating from the property. He’d been dead weeks before the police got to him, and the medical examiner put it down to ‘accidental death.’ Apparently the corpse was so mutilated and chewed up—rats—they couldn’t tell much. But! I found a diary entry written by a morgue assistant at the time. Gordon Hampton had been an itinerant, homeless, and frankly, no one had cared a lot. I can show you the diary entry; the dead man, according to him, was barely afforded the most basic autopsy. The injuries to his skull were chalked up to a fall. The morgue assistant was convinced the man had been murdered, but he also wanted to keep his job. He kept his thoughts quiet.”

  “So, there might have been an Axeman busy in the forties, too,” Danni murmured.

  “We had just gone to war—men were heading off to battle. Dying. People were struggling to exist; women were entering the workforce. I guess no one wanted to worry about a man it seemed life had already forgotten.” Eric Garfield hesitated, smoothing his hair back. “I’ve found a few other incidents in that year. A knifing—chalked up to a bar brawl—in Gretna. Except there were no witnesses, and no arrests. And no one seems to have known who was brawling. Body was found by the dump in the back of the bar the next day when the manager came in—chewed badly by predators.”

  Danni was thoughtful. “There were no attacks on the body in the Axeman murders,” she said. “What would…what would cause animals, big and small, to rip bodies to shreds?”

  He shrugged. “Therein lies a mystery. But…”

  He was quiet a minute.

  “Let’s move on to 1972. Barry Alexander—or the missing corpse we assume to be Barry Alexander. He was found by a tourist right in the heart of the city—right by St. Louis #1. When the police arrived on the site, there was no body. Okay, same year, not far away, up by Lake Pontchartrain—Belinda Montgomery found her father in the barn, a hatchet in his head. His body had been almost consumed by rats—overnight. Belinda was arrested, but let go. She hadn’t been home the night before, and there were dozens of witnesses to swear to it. Another man, in Slidell, throat slashed, axe in his head—people believed he’d been the victim of a cult. The cult members did one of those cyanide things themselves, so there were no arrests and people then assumed the cult members had also come into NOLA and killed Barry Alexander as well. Maybe they used his body for some kind of rite.”

  Danni studied his face. “You don’t think a cult did any of this.”

  He shook his head. “Crazy, right? I think it goes back to the New Orleans Axeman. Hell, I don’t know if I believe in Satan, but…the letter the Axeman wrote…if anyone was being helped out by Satan, or some form of evil, it was him. My dad wondered if the Axeman might have been living somewhere else after 1920, and then come back here in 1942. But, if he’d been as young as twenty in 1920, by 1972 he’d have been seventy-two years old. And now…he’d be well over a hundred. So, logically, it can’t be the Axeman who was attacking people in 1918-1919. But what if…”

  Danni rose and walked over to read the Axeman’s letter on the wall once again.

  She read aloud, “’They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the Axeman.’”

  She looked back at Eric Garfield. “You think there’s something to those words, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Hell, I was a cop. I know people can be evil. But, can they leave evil behind? And if so, how do other people find it? Do axes just implant themselves in people’s heads? And—while not with the original Axeman, but with the murders since, animals have torn the bodies to shreds. Rats in a barn, sure. But, corpses disappearing? I thought I could help you—with this other info. The thing is, I don’t have any answers. I just don’t know. Is this just all a set of bizarre circumstances? Was a cult active? Are there even any answers?”

  “There are always answers,” Danni said softly. “We just have to find them.”

  She’d been going to stay; she’d been going to wait for Quinn. But, she knew she needed to move on now; no telling what else might happen if they didn’t get somewhere quickly.

  She stood, and Wolf, who had curled up on the floor, stood as well.

  “Thank you! Thank you. I’ll be back with Quinn, if you don’t mind. He’ll need to see all this.”

  “I don’t mind at all. I’d like some answers. The kind that will let me play with my grandkids. And Quinn…well, I remember when he was the talk of the town. And when he almost died—and then turned it all around. He was a rookie when I retired. But, you could tell he was going to be a good cop. Too bad he left the force, but then…well, he found your dad. And this pup, here, huh? Guess he’s right where he’s supposed to be.”

  Danni smiled. “And with me,” she said softly.

  She thanked Eric again, and then she headed out, back toward her own block on Royal Street. Her very good friend was there.

  In her own shop.

  Natasha LaRouche ran a voodoo shop. Her customers were tourists, of course.

  And locals.

  She was a priestess, a woman who took her religion very seriously. She read palms and tea leaves and people. She believed in goodness and all the right things.

  One of her best friends was Father Ryan—a Catholic priest, and friends with Quinn before Danni had met Quinn herself.

  Between them…

  They were both very good at reading people. Natasha read cards and tea leaves; Father Ryan was extremely fond of reading the New Testament.

  Between them, they were excellent at ferreting out and reading…

  Evil.

  Chapter 5

  When he reached the home in the Garden District where Sean DeMille and Casey Cormier were living, Quinn found Sean in the front yard—taking down his decorations.

  “Hey. Sorry…tearing all this down. No way in hell I want kids coming around here this year, not after…what happened. Hate it. I’m going to have to call the schools and tell them I have nothing for the kids.”

  “Don’t do that yet; I can call a friend,” Sean said.

  “With a big yard? Who is willing to let me put up all this kind of stuff?”

  “With a big yard, and a big heart,” Quinn said.

  “Well, thanks. Anyway, let me know.” He sounded appreciative, but not as if he believed anything good could happen.

  “Have you…gotten anywhere?” Sean asked anxiously.

  “I went by Horrible Hauntings,” Quinn told him. “I saw the coffin you were called in to fix. What did you find to be the problem?”

  Sean looked perplexed. He paused in his work, wiping his brow. He didn’t seem defensive, just confused.

  “Did something happen there?” he asked worriedly.

  “No, no. When you went in to work, what was wrong with the coffin?”

  “Some idiot closed it on one of those cape things they use when they need to enter in where people are being scared. It caught in the mechanism. Easiest fix ever. But…it took me away from Casey. And I’m…man, I’m still worried about her. This is slower than it needs to be—I keep going inside to make sure she’s all right. Oh, and I took that stupid vampire thing out back with the ot
her one—think I’m going to burn the pair.”

  Burning something that might be evil, or associated with evil, or even tainted with evil might not be a bad thing.

  Then again, if the mannequins were benign and it was something else…

  “Don’t do anything to them. Not now,” Quinn said.

  “I want them out of here, away from here, so badly!” Sean said.

  “I’ll take them with me. And if you want them back later, you can have them. But, I’d like to work on this a little longer, okay?”

  “I just wish that…well, come in. Casey is trying to work. She sits for a minute, and then jumps up, and comes out here. Unless I go in there, she forgets what she’s doing and comes out here.”

  “Any way you guys could get away for a few days?” Quinn asked.

  Sean gave him a weary look. “You said you went to Horrible Hauntings. The place is filled with electronic devices that can go awry. We both do okay. We just can’t afford to lose our jobs.”

  “What about a hotel room?” Quinn asked.

  Sean laughed. “Have you ever tried to book a room in New Orleans at Halloween?”

  “Okay, I see your point.”

  Maybe they shouldn’t be at the house. They could stay in a guest room at the house on Royal Street, but, he’d have to check with Danni first.

  “Anyway, come on in, please,” Sean said.

  Quinn followed him into the house. There had been an amazing transformation.

  The place had been cleared out of anything that even slightly resembled Halloween.

  “Where is Mr. Devil Demon?” Quinn said quietly to Sean.

  “Outside, in the back, with Mrs. Devil Demon,” Sean told him. “I told you…I want to burn them! And everything else that was in here and in the yard….”

  Casey was sitting at a secretary; her computer was there.

  Her desk was bare.

  Even the cute little poster that had been above the secretary was gone.

  “Mr. Quinn!” Casey said. She stood quickly and walked over to him, looking at him anxiously. “Did you find out anything—anything at all?”

  “I don’t know anything, except…” he hesitated. Casey was both frightened, and deeply pained that a man had been killed. “The medical examiner said Jimmy—the man killed in the yard—died just about instantly when the axe hit him. He didn’t feel…anything else. Also, he had cancer. He wouldn’t have had long to live.”

  Casey studied him, and she smiled grimly. “Small favors!” she whispered. “And the medical examiner was telling the truth?”

  “I know the man well. He wouldn’t lie.”

  “Well, that’s good. But…”

  “He went to Horrible Hauntings,” Sean told her.

  “Oh?”

  “Casey, let’s sit, shall we?” Quinn asked.

  “Okay,” she said slowly, her voice tremulous. “Did something else…”

  “Let’s sit.”

  They sat. Then Casey leapt up off the sofa. “What’s the matter with me?! Mr. Quinn, would you like some iced tea, lemonade—or a beer?”

  “Casey, I’m fine, and it’s just ‘Quinn.’ Everyone just calls me Quinn.”

  “Okay,” she said, glancing at Sean.

  “I need you to think, to really think about all the things that were in here—and the people who were here, too. And, if you’ve come across anyone—anyone at all—who might have wanted to scare you, or even do something bad to you.”

  Her eyes became enormous. Sean was sitting next to her and she clasped his hand. “Me?” she said, her voice a little squeak. “But…they killed James Hornby!”

  “And you were lured out of the house,” he said.

  “Maybe you were imagining things,” Sean said. “Halloween is…suggestive. Not in crazy way—not in a crazy way at all. But, I may have gotten too carried away.”

  “Way too carried away, Sean DeMille!” she said.

  “Casey,” Quinn said, trying to get her to focus. “I need to know. And, Sean, what about you? Is anyone jealous of you at work? Do you have any enemies?”

  “Me? Enemies…no. I’m a hard worker. Honest. And I didn’t steal anyone else’s job,” Sean said. He shook his head. “There’s no reason for anyone to want to hurt me.”

  “Or me!” Casey said

  “And it was…it was Jimmy who was killed,” Sean said.

  “I understand, but I think someone purposely made the coffin top stick. I found a piece of fluff in it…and you said it had been stuck because of a cloak. Who has access to those cloaks?”

  “Well, anyone working security. In fact, anyone working. Mr. Abernathy, Ned, the actors, the workers…the cloaks are kept in the office. Employees wear them when they have to go in to check on something when the attraction is open.”

  “And Abernathy likes you—doesn’t resent you?”

  “Of course not. I’m really good.”

  “What about Ned?”

  “He loves me!” Sean said. “As an employee. We’ve gotten fairly close as friends.”

  “Did you know Abernathy and Ned Denton before you took on the job?” Quinn asked.

  “I’ve worked several attractions as Abernathy’s employee. I work holidays, events for kids. And for retirees. Mainly holidays. You know, Easter attractions, Christmas, New Years.”

  “What about Ned Denton?”

  “Same thing. He’s been around as long as I have…about three years.”

  “And your friends?” Quinn asked.

  “Chrissy and Gill?” Casey asked. “Chrissy and I both work for Paper People. We’re artists, graphic designers, and we work with paper engineers. Cards and books and things like that.”

  “For how long?”

  “Same thing…not quite so long. Two years, maybe. Chrissy is one of the nicest people I know. What are you getting at? Our friends wouldn’t want to hurt us! And, oh, God, they’d never, never put an axe in a man’s head!” Casey said. She looked at Quinn, horrified. The she looked at Sean. “I thought you said he found out…why weird things happened. Evil things.”

  “He does—hey! Father Ryan said he was the man to see!” Sean protested.

  “Casey, please don’t get angry with Sean—or with me,” Quinn said. “I have to ask these questions.” He couldn’t let up—he felt it was urgent they move fast.

  Before someone else wound up with an axe in their head.

  “What about Gill Martin?” he asked.

  “He…he’s nice. Chrissy loves him,” Casey said defensively.

  “They haven’t been dating long,” Sean said. “But, he seems to be a great guy. He works for one of the construction companies as an electrician. It was really nice of the two of them to come by today along with Jeff Abernathy and Ned. They took time from work. They…they’re friends.”

  “All right, thank you,” Quinn said. “One more thing—Casey, you heard two voices?”

  “No one believes I heard even one,” she said bitterly. She looked at him, stubborn defiance in her eyes then. “Yes. I heard two voices. One said to come…the other to stay.”

  “All right,” Quinn said. “I’ll be back with you later.”

  “Tonight?” Casey asked anxiously.

  “Tonight,” he promised. “If I have anything—if I don’t have anything. I’ll be back with you.”

  He started for the door. Sean jumped up behind him. “Wait!”

  Quinn paused. “Yes.”

  “You said you’d take them—Mr. and Mrs. Devil Demon. You said you’d get them out of here.”

  “Okay. We’ll get them in the back of the SUV,” Quinn said.

  “Oh, thank you!” Casey said, clasping her hands together as she stood.

  Sean walked over to join him at the door.

  “Come on; I’ll help you get the suckers out of here!”

  Quinn accompanied Sean out back. The yard had been torn apart. Some of the decorations still lay on the ground—dismantled and ready to be taken away.

  Mr. and Mrs
. Devil Demon now stood together, right beneath the cemetery sign that read, “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!”

  “Turned out to be true for old Jimmy,” Sean said sadly. He looked at Quinn. “What the hell was the man doing here, do you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Quinn told him. “Larue has been working on that all day.”

  He picked up Mr. Devil Demon. The thing only weighed about thirty pounds.

  Sean had Mrs. Devil Demon. The two of them walked to his car and manipulated the pieces into the back.

  Quinn stared at them for a moment before closing the hatch.

  Nothing. He didn’t feel anything evil or ill about the pair at all.

  But, what else…

  Evil—in human form?

  Had someone purposely lured Sean from his home that night?

  He couldn’t help but believe it was so.

  And yet…

  It was getting late. He was anxious to find out what Danni had learned from Eric Garfield.

  He was, in fact, anxious to see the man again himself.

  ***

  Natasha LaRouche, or, Madame LaBelle—her professional name—was one of the most fascinating women Danni had ever known. She was regal, beautiful, and fit her “la belle” very well. Tall, lean, with skin the color of café au lait and striking features, she was ageless.

  While she made a nice income reading tarot cards, palms, and tea leaves, her shop was her life’s blood. She kept an incredible shop filled with books on history—especially the real history of voodoo. It was Hollywood who had turned the religion into something wicked, she often said. That, of course, and Papa Doc Duvalier, the despot dictator who had ruled Haiti so long.

  She was beloved, and her kindness and wisdom would have worked well in any religion; she preached kindness to one’s fellow, care for the aging and handicapped, and love for all children. People came to her with their problems.

  And in all things, and in any possible way she could, she helped Danni and Quinn.

  The shop was crazy when Danni arrived with Wolf; she didn’t go in, but rather headed straight to the courtyard where Natasha often met customers. She had a covered table out there with a beautiful crystal ball.