Ive taken a lot of art history in my day but I never had a class in which anyone could explain the mysteries of the human mind. And if scientists could figure that outwell, the pharmaceutical companies might go out of business!
Quinn frowned again as he looked at the painting, angling to one side.
What? Danni asked.
Hubert, he said. I suppose its a common enough name.
Id say so.
French in origin?
Probably, Danni said. Hubert was an English citizen. His father was an Englishman. His mother was Norwegian. But even by then, names could be deceptive. The French lived in England, the English lived in France, and had for centuries. Plus, people vacationed all over. Why the interest in the name?
Quinn raised one shoulder in a shrug. This sounds funny, of course, because we all wish there wasnt any need for medical examiners, but my favorite M.E. in the city is named Hubert. Youve met him.
Thats right! Danni said. I hadnt thought of that. It was her turn to shrug. But there are Quinns and Caffertys all over, too, and we dont know about the majority of them. If we are related its from hundreds of years ago.
Im just curious, Quinn said. I left Hubert a little while ago. Now Im seeing a painting by a different Hubert.
Odd coincidence, I guess.
Michael Quinn! Niles seemed to float across the room as he came toward them. He squinted at Danni, as if unconvinced that shed told him the truth before. Youre back in town. Lovely. Are you here for long?
Im not sure, but I always come back. New Orleans is home. I have a house in the Garden District, Niles.
Yes, of course, Id forgotten, Niles said. But youre here now. In my gallery. What do you think? Isnt the giclée just incredible?
Yes, Quinn murmured. Incredible...
I told Danni Im saving one for her. Ill get it wrapped up for you tonight, Danni.
Uh, thanks. Thats great, Danni said. She didnt want to decline the giclée; it was beyond doubt a piece by a famousand infamousartist. And it was decidedly unique. Unusual.
It was also creepy, and she had enough creepy in her life.
But Niles was beaming, so glad he could provide her with such a treasure, and she had no intention of hurting his feelings.
How do you tell a copy from the real thing? Quinn asked.
For one thing, Danni replied, Copies likes thisgicléesare numbered. The one on the wall is number 480 out of 2000.
Yes, its like buying a printexcept better, Niles crowed.
I see. More or less, Quinn said. No, I do understand, and a copy would work just fine for me. Sadly, I dont know that much about art.
Well, copies of all kinds are fine. Ah, but to have the real thing... He sighed. Well, anyway, I dont. Someone rich does. Hey, enough about other artists! When shes ready, Danni will do another show here, Niles told Quinn.
Lets hope, Quinn said, meeting her eyes, that shell be ready soon.
They left after exchanging goodbyes with Niles and walked down Royal Street toward The Cheshire Cat, Dannis shop and home. Although shed gone away for college and at various times had her own apartment, shed moved back into her childhood home for good when her father died.
And when she discovered exactly what hed kept in the basement.
She and Billie had recently restructured the shop area of the eighteenth-century house. Shed created a beautiful life-size image of a banshee for a jewelry line she was selling for a friend, and it was near the entry, with its various Celtic designs. Shed also added shelving for her Gargoyles! collection. Naturally she offered the customary New Orleans souvenirsSaints T-shirts, beads and gris-gris bags and a line of Voodoo for Love! voodoo dolls that were adorable. You pricked the cloth body with a little needle that tattooed a kiss onto it for luck, love, happiness....
But some things in the store had stayed the samethe replicated King Tut mask, for one, the cardboard cutouts of Bela Lugosi as Dracula and Vincent Price as Dr. Phibes and a few other pieces. Mostly, she sold specialty items, including antiques. The store was always spotlessly clean, slightly Goth, slightly vampire-themedand as much fun and as intriguing as she could make it. When buyers stopped in, they could spend a dollar for a few plastic beads or a fortune for real art, antique pieces or jewelry. Dannis fathercast by the fates from the Highlands of Scotland to New Orleansloved his adopted city. Shops should be different and unusual, he believed. Places people wanted to come back to, just like they wanted to come back to Bourbon Street for revelry, Frenchman Street for great local music, Jackson Square for art....
The Cheshire Cat was special, Danni thought. Her father had purchased the building when hed fallen in love with her mother. The place had been a home in the early 1700s, one of the only structures to survive the fires that had nearly destroyed the city later in the century. It still had a courtyard and the typical U or horseshoe shape of so many New Orleans homes and she loved every inch of it.
When she and Quinn entered, Billie was sitting behind the counter, actually a glass display case for jewelry. Hed been reading but when the door opened and he saw Quinn, he jumped to his feet, hurrying around. Quinn, youre back, man! After years in the United States, Billies Scots brogue remained strong.
He pumped Quinns hand, stood awkwardly for a minute, then threw both arms around him. Then he quickly stepped back, his expression anxious. Oh. Oh?
Danni understood the way Billie looked at Quinn. He was glad to see him; he was afraid to see him. While theyd had some quiet times over the past months, if Quinn was here, something could be going on. And, given that Larue had already called him, something was....
I got back last night. Finished in Texas, Quinn said. I came in really late so I went straight to my house.
Everything all right? Billie asked.
It was last night. But this morning...bad scene in the city. A family massacred.
Oh, Billie said. Oh. His shoulders slumped. I havent seen the news today.
It might have been a domestic situation, Quinn added.
Billie was obviously skeptical. Domestic, eh? He turned to Danni. Bo Ray took a breatherhes gone to pick up some groceries. As soon as hes back, I say we walk over to Natashas and after that, we get Quinn to tell us what went on at the domestic situation.
Quinn glanced at his watch. They could just have called Natasha, but it would be better to see her. Sounds like a plan, Billie. But I say we meet here after seven, when the shop closes. If Bo Rays buying groceries, we can whip up something to eat and Ill tell you what I knowwhich might be a little more than I know now. Im due at autopsy. I didnt realize Id spent so much time looking at art.
Looking at art? Billie repeated.
One piece in particular. Its a very...unusual piece, Danni said. But were getting a copy. Its a giclée.
A what?
An ink-jet copyalmost as good as the original. Quinn winked at Danni. She doubted hed been familiar with giclée prints until that day.
Billie just shook his head. Danni smiled. She loved Billie; hed been devoted to her father. He was devoted to her now. And to The Cheshire Cat.
Billie just shook his head. Danni smiled. She loved Billie; hed been devoted to her father. He was devoted to her now. And to The Cheshire Cat.
Its a pity we looked at art for so long. Quinn said, his lips twitching with humorand a secret message meant only for her.
She grinned wickedly, indulging him. Go. Well see you back here.
He nodded, turned to leave the shop. As he did, he nearly bumped into Bo Ray Tompkins, a young man who now worked at the shop as a clerk and bookkeeper. Hed been a suspect in their first investigation. Now, he was clean of drugs and grateful, and a reliable member of their staff.
Bo Ray was excited to see Quinn, too. He almost dropped the grocery bags he was carrying. Quinn grabbed and saved one and they all wound up on the counter.
Quinn!
Bo Ray said the word with such adulation that Danni had to laugh. He hadnt even noticed she was there.
Bo Ray, great to see you! Quinn said. Things are going well?
Bo Ray looked over at Danni. You betDannis the best. And Billie, too, of course! Hey, Ill have a Scottish accent myself in a few more weeks!
Quinn laughed. See you all tonight, he said, and headed out.
Hes really back! Bo Ray said, delighted. Clean-shaven, his hair still on the long side, his clothing clean and neat, Bo Ray was darned good-looking. He was excellent with their customers, too, charming them easily. Dannis philosophywhich had also been her fatherswas that they did far more business by making people like the shop than they did by trying to sell things every minute. That way, people remembered the place; if they werent ready to buy, they came back. If they just wanted to look, they were welcome. Ohhh! he said, his mouth a circle. Does that mean...
It means he finished working in Texas, but theres been a murder hereseveral murders, a familyand hes going into autopsy.
Ohhh, Bo Ray said again.
Maybe not ohhh, Danni said. Bad things happen in any big city. Drug deals go wrong and we sure as hell havent stamped out domestic violence. Anyway, Ill get Natasha over for dinner tonight. Then well talk.
And were just... Were just supposed to keep working until then? Keep the shop open? Smile and greet customers? Act like nothings happened? Bo Ray asked.
Exactly, Billie said, clapping a hand on Bo Rays shoulder. Now, get the groceries into the kitchen. Youre messin with the gargoyles here!
Danni laughed. Children, play nicely. Im leaving now to drop in on Natasha. Wolf barked. She could swear the dog understood her words. Wolf loved Natasha and the courtyard at her shop.
Oh, Wolf, Im sorry. I want you to stay here and help the boys, okay?
Wolf whined; he not only loved Natasha, he took his role as Dannis bodyguard seriously.
She stroked his head and slipped out the door, leaving the dog with Billie and Bo Ray.
Danni walked down to St. Ann and then up toward Bourbon to Natashas shop.
* * *
Quinn was taken directly back to the largest autopsy room at the morgue. Ron Hubert was already at work. The doctors assistant offered Quinn a gown and masksuggesting hed definitely need the maskand led him in.
The five bodies had been cleaned and prepped and were in a row on scoured steel autopsy tables. The scent of disinfectant was heavy in the air, but it didnt dispel the metallic scent of blood. The smell of decomposition already sat beneath that of the chemicals.
Hubert, his face protected by a full-cover plastic mask, stood by the body of James A. Garcia. The Y incision had been made and Hubert was recording his findings in an even, modulated tone that was picked up by the hanging microphone above the body. He reached into the pocket of his white medical jacket to switch off the procedural recording as he saw Quinn walk into the room.
You got here fast, he said.
No time like the present, Quinn remarked. Anything?
Well, as you can see, Ive just begun the preliminaries. Jackson and Coe, two of my assistants, have bathed and prepped the bodies and so far Ive made a few observations. Strange, my friend, strange indeed. I feel as if Ive been cast into a gruesome version of the board game Clue. Follow me, and Ill explain, Hubert said.
He stopped in front of another gurney. Andrea Garcia, I believe, was the first to be attacked. She was in the kitchenand its my contention that she was assaulted by a machete or a sword. The blade was long and broad. There are no defensive wounds on her hands or arms so I dont think the poor woman had the slightest idea that she was about to be attacked.
He moved on. This was Maggie Santander. Since she was viciously bludgeoned to death, we see very little of her face. Oddly, Im almost certain that both women died first. Usually, a murderer like this would dispatch the men immediately, wanting to disable the stronger of the victims so they wouldnt have to tackle them in a fight. What she was struck with I dont knowa heavy object. I havent found splinters or metal chips or any telltale sign of the weapon used.
Quinn felt his jaw tighten; what had been done to the grandmother was gut-wrenching. She really had no face. Luckily, my boy, Hubert said, I believe she died instantly. The blunt force crushed her skull and bone shards went into the brain. However, he said, moving again, her husband died the most easilya single gunshot dead-center to the head. No bullet in him or found at the scene, according to the police. But I still say he was lucky. He probably never knew what hit him.
Small mercies, Quinn said.
In this situation? Yes. Hubert walked on to the next table. The woman lying there was pale and ashen; her lips were a sickly shade of blue. Hubert opened one of her eyes. Petechial hemorrhaging in the eyes, the bruising around the neck. As wed ascertained at the scene, this young woman was strangled and with great force. But Ive looked at the bruising with a microscope. She was manually strangled, but theres no indication whether the killer was left-or right-handed. As you saw at the house, it appears that she walked into the midst of the carnage and was caught before she could escape. Now, lets return to Mr. Garcia.
Hubert went back to the first body. Heres where its curious. Mr. Garcia was right-handed. It almost looks as if the wounds were self-inflicted. See how the cuts are on the left side of the body? And the deeper wounds, the stab wounds, are all toward the left. Even where his throat is slit. It could indicate that the man took a knife or a similar blade himself and swept it across his own throat in a left-to-right motion. There was also a great deal of blood on his right hand. However, at that point, he wouldve instantly lost so much blood that I estimate death would have occurred in under a minutecertainly not enough time to stash the weapon. And, of course, he couldnt have gone far, Hubert added dryly.
Quinn stared at him. So? he asked.
So, Im the medical examiner. Youre the investigator.
What youre telling me is basically impossible. And yet based on what youve saidand what we discovered at the houseit looks like James Garcia got hold of a machete or a sword and sliced his wife to pieces in the kitchen. Then he moved around the house, dripping blood, found a heavy object and killed his mother-in-law with it, then found a gun and shot his father-in-law. After that, he headed downstairs, and strangled Maria Orr. Then he walked down the hall and stabbed himself several times before cutting his own throat and dying. Quinn shook his head. Pretty damned impossible. I dont buy it.