Louisiana Ghost Stories by J. Lee Wimberly

Author:J. Lee Wimberly [Wimberly, J. Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781480853171
Publisher: Archway Publishing
Published: 2017-11-18T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five: The Surprise Visit

I had Thomas place a man on the house to tell me when its owner returned to the mansion. One day after my visit to the very housebroken servants Thomas reported that he had returned to the home.

I decided that I would call upon him that evening to continue our little conversation we had started a few days ago. And as was my custom, I intended on arriving unannounced. I liked the spontaneity of what occurred when I showed up on a doorstep to question a suspect, or in days of old, to tear one apart with blade or axe. The look of surprise was Liebfraumilch to me.

That evening around ten I decided to pay my new friend a visit. I rapped the boar’s head knocker and was greeted by Matthias who made no sign that he recognized me as the visitor who had flambéed his arm but a mere two days before.

“Is your Master home?” I asked, knowing full well that he was.

“Yes, sir,” said the avuncular Matthias.

“Then please announce that Inspector Sterling is here and apologizes for the lateness of the hour but has pressing business with him.”

“Yes, sir, “he stated without emotion and turned, I assumed to inform his Master.

I seated myself in the parlor, already an old familiar room to me.

Evidently Monsieur DeLaVergne had not yet retired for the evening because he came into the parlor fully dressed within five minutes.

“And what can I do for you Inspector?” he questioned. “Would you like a drink?” he offered.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” I replied.

“Not at all. I will get it myself,” he said.

With that he crossed the parlor to a large sideboard which had crystal decanters aligned along its expanse.

“Is that the famous Madame Delphine LaLaurie?”I asked, motioning to the portrait of a strikingly beautiful woman hanging above the fireplace.

“None other,” he replied.

She was truly a magnificent beauty. She had long dark hair piled atop her head which was set on a long slender neck. Her eyes were a dark green and flashed her imperious nature. But it was her mouth which really told the story. Lovely it was, but it also showed a hint of cruelty. Did the artist try to conceal it? Was it much more pronounced in life? That was another mystery I was not likely to solve.

“And she was related to you how?” I asked.

“She was my aunt,” he lied.

“And her brother was Monsieur Toussaint, the soldier?” I continued.

“Yes, exactly. And why is my family tree so interesting to you Inspector?” he asked with feigned joviality.

I didn’t offer him an answer. I asked the questions.

“You have a good memory, Inspector,” he continued without pressing me for an answer to his question.

“Thank you, sir. I try,” I added.

“Bourbon or rye,” he asked.

“Rye please.” I had developed a taste for that most American of spirits, and had left Scotch and gin for the most part back home in Merry Old England along with some other vices best not to mention.

When

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