The Haunting of Anna McAlister (9 page)

“Chuck,” Tom huffed as he got out of the car. “Who ever heard of an ass named Chuck?”

At exactly 10:37:10, Anna rang Jeffrey’s apartment buzzer. A moment later, Jeffrey’s happy voice crackled out of the small speaker. “Bon jour. The three of you are right on time.”

“It’s just Tom and I,” Anna said.
 

“You mean you left Chuck . . . behind?”

Jeffrey buzzed them in before Tom could tell him to fuck off.

When Anna and Tom stepped off the elevator, they saw that Jeffrey had left them a little surprise. Two Bloody Marys in crystal glasses on a silver tray sat on the floor in front of the elevator door.
 

“See, Anna grabbed onto Tom’s arm. “He’s not all bad.”

Tom drank half of his bloody Mary on the spot. He finished it off by the time they reached the open door to Jeffrey and Duncan’s apartment at the end of a long hall. When they walked in they found Jeffrey and Duncan kissing passionately on the couch.

“Oh shit, I don’t need this,” Tom turned away.

“Ha, ha and ha, Jeffrey,” Anna said as the embrace was broken and Jeffrey was laughing. “Very funny, guys.”

“We just wanted to make Chuck comfortable,” Jeffrey laughed harder.
 

“It was all his idea,” Duncan threw his hands in the air.

“Just leave my Tom and his Chuck alone,” Anna said. “They’re both mine.”

Anna gently ran her hand over Tom’s behind.

“Can I do that?” Jeffrey asked hopefully.

“No!” Both Anna and Tom said at exactly the same time.
 

Jeffrey moved somewhat unsteadily toward the kitchen for another bloody Mary. “Tom, you are such a homophobe.”
 

As he walked by, he stopped, turned, smacked his lips and stared at Tom’s behind. “And for very good reason I might add.”

“Jeffrey, stop, now.” Anna could feel Tom getting angry. His limit had been reached.
 

“But . . .”

“No buts.”

“Well, what do you have to say about that, Chuck?”
 

Jeffrey gave Tom’s bottom a pat and a squeeze. Tom spun around and pushed Jeffrey away, hard.
 

“That’s it! I’m out of here! I’ll wait in the car.”
 

Before Anna could say anything to stop him, Tom stormed out of the door. He was too angry to wait for the elevator and took the stairs instead. Anna could hear him muttering, “Fucking assholes,” under his breath as he slammed the stairway door behind him.

* * *

“Gee,” Jeffrey said innocently. “I wonder what got into him?”

“Don’t Jeffrey,” Anna said.

“Certainly not me. Although it could be fun.”

“Jeffrey, how many bloody Marys have you had?

Jeffrey held up three fingers and said “Six . . . or so.”

Duncan pulled Jeffrey to the couch and forced him to sit.

“I however had only one,” Duncan said as he sat next to Jeffrey and motioned for Anna to sit in a big overstuffed chair. “Now before our friend here causes any more trouble, I understand we have some work to do.”

“Thank you, Duncan,” Anna said. She glared angrily at Jeffrey and pulled the letter from her purse.

Chapter 9

Jeffrey passed out on the couch and Duncan started to read:

“Dear Mademoiselle McAlister,

Forgive me for writing in French, I hope this does not present a problem.”

Anna rolled her eyes. She thought of Tom fuming in the car and looked at Jeffrey zonked on the couch. She shook her head, and thought,
No, of course not. No fucking problem at all.
 

As promised, Duncan’s mastery of French was impressive. He read and translated the letter faster then Anna could read straight English. She found this mildly annoying, but then again she often found many of the things Duncan did to be mildly annoying. Besides she had more important things on her mind.
 

Duncan paused and sipped his bloody Mary before continuing to read.
 

“Regarding the history of the music box collection which you most recently purchased, I am afraid I can only offer only a small amount of information, and even that is incomplete.”

“Shit,” Anna slammed her fist onto the arm of the chair.

“Shush,” Duncan was more than somewhat irritated at the interruption and the assault on his furniture. “His small amount of incomplete information goes on for another page if you’re interested. Would you like me to continue, or have you heard enough?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Anna said while thinking,
Jeffrey’s right, he really can be a bitch.
 

“Do go on.”

“No more interruptions.”

“Promise.”

“Fine then.” Duncan cleared his throat.

“The music boxes were collected by a woman named Ariene LaMoreau. I know little of her early life. I do know that she lived as an adult in Paris in the early 1920’s. Some of the boxes themselves are much older. It is believed that some first belonged to Mademoiselle LaMoreau’s maternal grandmother, Madam Michelle Tremont. She received others as birthday and holiday gifts, or as tokens of affection from male admirers.
 

“
As a point of information, various experts here in France set the value of the boxes at over 7,000 Euros, so you received, as you Americans say, a very good deal. Congratulations.”

Anna could almost hear the contempt flowing from Monsieur LaRoche’s pen.
 

“
Back to the point at hand. I do know that Mademoiselle LaMoreau lived for years in the Hotel Baronette on the left bank in the St. German district of Paris. I know this because the collection, until very recently, had been stored in the attic of this hotel. An employee discovered the treasure and returned it to the only living family member, Mademoiselle LaMoreau’s grand niece.”

“What’s the grand niece’s name,” Anna had pulled a steno pad from her purse and was taking notes
 

Duncan looked up and then back at the letter. “It doesn’t say.”

“Fuck.”

“Do you want to hear what it does say, or would you rather sit and swear at me for awhile first. I can wait.” Duncan stared out a window to his right and started to whistle.
 

“Again, sorry. Go on, please.” Anna bit her tongue and swallowed some pride.

“Where was I, ah yes.

“. . . Mademoiselle’s LaMoreau’s grand niece. She had the boxes displayed in a small museum near her home, but shortly thereafter
she contracted my services to sell the entire collection overseas as quickly as possible. Why? This I do not know.

However, if I may
speculate, after first receiving the music boxes, the grand niece had hired a university student to investigate their history. A week after
the boxes went on display at the museum, this student discovered that
Mademoiselle Ariene LaMoreau had not died peacefully. In fact, she had been brutally, tortured, raped and murdered in the hotel where she had lived.”

Anna and Duncan stared at each other in shock. Jeffrey woke up, screaming. He jumped to his feet and was gasping for air. He held up his hand to his startled friends. “It’s okay. It must have been someone I drank.”

“I hope so,” Anna said softly.

Jeffrey took a deep breath. “That teaches me a lesson about bloody Marys.”

“What? Stop at five?” Duncan had been concerned, but now he was once again angry over his lover’s drinking habits, which he considered to be excessive.
 

“No,” Jeffrey answered. “I have to remember to use less tomato juice.”

Anna returned her focus to the letter. “Duncan, does the letter say anything else?”

Duncan retrieved the letter from the floor where it had fallen from his lap. He looked down at the bottom of the page and read the last sentence.

“I mentioned your request to the grand niece. She insisted that I advise you to be very careful. She refused to say why.

Sincerely,
 

Monsieur LaRoche”

Duncan folded the letter. “Pretty wordy for someone who didn’t have much to say. I just have to see those music boxes.” He handed the letter back to Anna. “Now, if possible.”

Despite Anna’s refusal, Duncan wouldn’t take her no as his answer. Jeffrey jumped in on Duncan’s side. While somewhat frightened by all that had happened to Anna, he still found the whole thing to be terribly amusing in a morbid, black humor kind of way.

“Come on, Anna,” he said. “Duncan read your letter. The least you can do is show him your box, ah boxes. Don’t be an MBT.”

“MBT?”

“Music box tease.”
 

“You don’t understand,” Anna said. “I think it could be, okay. I know this sounds stupid, I think it could be dangerous.”

Duncan had already put on a light jacket and was combing his hair in the mirror on the wall by the door. “Don’t worry,” he put his comb in his pocket. “I’m a big boy.”

“Tell me about it,” Jeffrey whispered and squirmed just a bit.

“You have to show them to me,” Duncan walked over to Anna. “I’ll tell you what. If you let me see them, I’ll write a letter in French to the exporter and see if we can’t get the name and address of the grand niece. I can be very convincing and I’m sure he would be willing to help.”

Anna started to again refuse, but paused long enough for Duncan to jump in and close the deal.
 

“It’s worth a try. That is if you really want to find out what’s going on.”

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Anna said.
 

“I’m not getting into anything,” Duncan said. “I want to see
your
boxes, not Pandora’s.” he clicked his tongue. “Don’t get all carried away with yourself.”

“Duncan, be nice.” Jeffrey said.

Anna and Duncan looked directly at each other.
 

“Okay,” Anna said with a little smile. “Let’s go.”

“Yea!” Jeffrey chirped.

“No, Jeffrey,” Anna said, her smile gone. “You stay here.”

“No way Anna Mae,” Jeffrey grabbed his jacket. “I’m not missing this for anything. Besides,” he smiled. “Where Duncan goes I go. After all we are sometimes Siamese twins.”

Anna and Duncan looked at Jeffrey.

“You know. . .occasionally attached near the hip.”

* * *

Tom was not happy to hear the news when Anna got into the car.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me?”

“No I don’t ‘gotta be fucking kidding’ you.” Anna had intended to be apologetic about having Jeffrey and Duncan come over, but Tom’s tone of voice changed her mind.
 

Tom banged on the steering wheel with his fist. “You know what I think of them.”

“Look,” Anna said sternly. “Jeffrey is my friend, period. Duncan is Jeffrey’s partner. Again, period.”

“Partner? Yeah, right.” Tom sneered.

“Stop it, Tom.” Anna demanded. “I need you to behave yourself and help me on this.”

“Tell
him
to behave himself. The last time he was over he told me to lose 20 pounds so I could go with him and Duncan to one of their bars.”

“I’m asking you to do me a favor, okay?”

“I just . . .”

“Tom,” Anna’s voice softened. “This is very important to me. Duncan said he would write a letter in French requesting more information.”

“What did the first letter say?” Tom was also softening. He was the type of person who’s anger explodes like a volcano, but when the eruption is over, it just fades away. He would simply forget whatever incident had provoked him.
 

Anna on the other hand rarely lost her temper, but she never forgot even the smallest offense or unkind word.

“Do you really want to know?” she asked.

“Yes, of course I want to know.”

Anna didn’t need to look at her notes. She recited the letter to Tom practically word for translated word. When she told him about the murder and warning, Tom’s only response was a whispered “Hmmm.”

“So now do you see why I need Duncan to write another letter?” Anna asked.

“Yeah.”

“And you’ll behave yourself?”

Tom smiled. “I might need some help.”

“How can I help?”

“Got Scotch?”

“No, but we can stop at the store.”

“Good answer.”

* * *

Jeffrey and Duncan followed Anna and Tom in their own car. They pulled into the liquor store parking lot right behind them. Jeffrey made a point of whistling loudly when Tom walked toward and back from the building. Tom smiled and waved. Anna kissed him deeply when he got back into the car.
 

“Thank you,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ll pay you back later.”