Chapter 02
-
The Dread Family
Chapter 02 - The Dread Family
Written by: Emma Castro
BIG THUNDER MOUNTAIN COMPANY - 1889
Beneath the beautiful reddish brown mountains of Big Thunder Mountain, Utah, a small white wooden house stood more distant from the hills than the abandoned town at the other side, believed to be haunted by the spirit of Henry Ravenswood, the founder of the Big Thunder Mining Company, said being killed in 1860 by the Big Thunder Mesa earthquake. This earthquake murdered an entire town. After all, no one has ever come out alive to say whether such myths are true. A nobleman whose height was 6'2" comes out of the house. That nobleman was George Gracey II, father of Edward Gracey, who owned Big Thunder at the time. The company had several owners over the years, Henry Ravenswood in 1849, Barnabas T. Bullion in 1880, and finally, George Gracey II in 1890, who held the company for almost 10 years, but after it was considered dead territory, the company had gone totally bankrupt, causing the Gracey family to go bankrupt.
George walks across the summer hot, rocky front yard to reach his fence and lean against it, enjoying the view that the huge mountain offers. It was so beautiful it looked like a painting, as he was admiring such a spectacular view. A carriage approaches, stopping at the other end of the fence. A man in formal attire steps out of the carriage, Jim Evers, a professional African-American accountant, with a perfectly manicured and trimmed mustache, an impeccable tuxedo, and an extremely charismatic smile. George had hired to keep the profits at the mine in order. Jim greets George Gracey by shaking his hand. Of course, he didn't come with nothing, he was carrying a briefcase in his other hand.
“Ah, accountant Jim Evers, I was just waiting for you. I'm flattered by your punctuality” George Gracey greets Jim Evers.
“I'm always doing my job, I do what I must, Mr. Gracey.” Jim smiles, saying prayer face with charisma and joy, you could tell he was an expert at his job.
Evers puts the briefcase on one of the fence posts, opening it, taking out papers, a pen, and a stamp, while George Gracey was still leaning back, returning his gaze to the beautiful scenery.
“This was a beautiful place while it lasted.” George sighs.
“ Well, as they say, "By not buying a lottery ticket, one could lose a million dollars." - Evers jokes. “The man who founded this place was a mystery... By the way, you know your brother will have to sign for it, right? I understand that this is a joint venture.” Not only had the mine been bought by the Gracey family, George's name wasn't the only one under contract, Jacob Dread was the second name next to it. Whoever owned that name was George's half-brother, they shared the same mother, but different fathers, but that didn't stop them from being business partners, after all, both families belonged to the aristocracy.
“ Of course! Jacob is inside the house, he'll be here in a moment. We'd better give him a little more time now.” George says.
“Excellent, I just have to warn you that I'm in a bit of a hurry, my wife will be upset if I'm late, plus I feel like I'm walking on a string right now.” Evers explain. George Gracey looks at Jim with intrigue, giving a smirk and a raised eyebrow at what Evers had just said.
“I forgot our anniversary, so I'm going to try to surprise her with a spectacular vacation at Ravenswood Manor, it's a beautiful place. I don't think that would mind the owner.” Evers jokes, setting the mood to lighten a lot. Both George and Evers had burst out laughing. “I'm more afraid of my wife's anger than any spirit in hell”.Jim Evers continues the joke. “Man, if I could just go back in time to prevent us from getting married during the time of the month when she starts to....”
“That's enough.” George Gracey stops Jim Evers from stopping his joke, so Evers just swallows, adjusting his tie as he sees that George isn't laughing anymore.
“A husband always pleases his wife to the last penny, don't we?” George flashes a smile again, patting Jim Evers on the back, that smile no longer thanks to a joke. Jim Evers smiles nervously.
“Jim…” George says.
“Yes, sir?”
“Do you think you can do me a favor?”
“Of course I do, sir, tell me.”
“I'm getting old, I don't think I'm going to be in this world for a long time.”
“Why would you say such a thing? Are you ill?”
“At the moment? No. But life goes on and on. At some point, I'll go, and there will be no remains of me, at least not of my soul. My stepbrother and I bought this mine, for not much money really. We thought we were going to make a fortune out of this place. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, all so that the mine would go bankrupt. I now believe it when they say this place is cursed.” George Gracey pulls out a decanter and takes a swig. “I didn't do enough to make my mark in this life.”
“Come on, Mr. Gracey don't say that, you have given your family more than you realize. You have two wonderful children, which you have raised with love, a huge mansion, even you...” Jim Evers says, trying to cheer George up, until he is interrupted.
“My son will do it.” George says firmly.
“Sorry?” Jim asks.
“When I die, I want my son to inherit my place in the company, he's going to leave a mark on this world. I may not have made it out of this rubbish place, but he will, doing honor to the Gracey family.
“What about your daughter?”
“I've spoken. Now go change those papers, I'm not signing these papers, Mr Evers. I'm renewing my place in this mine. The future is bright, Jim, let's get on with it!” Says George Gracey enthusiastically, he had bet the future of the company on his son William E. Gracey, who at the time was just 13 years old.
*
Gracey Manor (Formerly known as Gore Manor) - Today
“The Dreads are coming home” Gracey says, being in a state of worry as he finishes reading the letter. He plops down in the nearest chair to him, placing his hand on his forehead.
“Gracey” Leota says. Gracey doesn't answer because of the state he was in. “Gracey!!” She says in a loud voice, making him react.
“Leota, I'm so sorry, it's just... my family from New York is coming to visit me soon and I haven't seen them for years, my Aunt Florence, my cousin Maude, Bertram... They're all coming!” Gracey stands up from his seat, pacing the room with the letter in her hand, by this time it was more of a crumpled piece of paper. “And... my uncle... My uncle Jacob!” Gracey carves his face, panicking as he remembers his uncle.
“What's wrong with your uncle?” Leota asks.
“Before I moved to Louisiana, I told him I would have no problem welcoming him into my home once I acquired one. Jacob and my father used to be half-brothers. The owners of a mining company, but they had to shut it down after my father died and the company went bankrupt. So he has to travel all the way here to give me the money I inherited from my father and the mine.”
“And why didn't you tell me this?” Leota asks confused, it seems it had been a shock to her as well.
“I'm sorry, Leota, with so much on my mind I had really forgotten to mention things, the excitement of living in a new city, months of fixing up this old but beautiful mansion, and, finding the ideal person to be able to live with,” Gracey responds sincerely.
“Gracey, don't worry, I think I can understand.” Leota stands next to Gracey, resting her hands on his shoulders. “I'd just like you to explain something to me. What does all this have to do with your uncle? Is he coming with them?”
“No, and I wouldn't want their worlds to cross again,” Gracey replies.
“What do you mean by that?” Leota asks.
“I mean he's not part of their family anymore. Florence and Jacob used to be married, but once they got divorced, things weren't the same as they used to be. I could say that Jacob isn't my family either, but he still has the Gracey blood inside, and so I do. I am obliged to treat him as one of us, and if Florence and the rest were related, they will still be treated with the same respect, as family.”
“You mean they're not your family?” Leota closes her eyes making a gesture of confusion, Gracey's words had caused more tangles than clarity, even if she understood what he meant, but she had never imagined meeting someone with that thought.
“Not blood related.”
“Then why come to greet them as if they were? From what I see they caused too much emotional damage to you and your relatives. I understand about your uncle Jacob because of the requirement of the money, but them?”
“Leota, you have to understand my principles as a man of kindness and honesty, they are part of the family. It's hard to admit, but I am obliged to love them. And if things look difficult, you just have to smile and see things as if everything is fine.”
*
In the surroundings of New Orleans, a carriage was heading towards the center of the city, inside was the bureaucrat family who were visiting to see their relative ((at least that's what they said)) that family was the Dread. Inside. Florence McGriffin Dread was seated next to her recent husband Bertram Dread, better known as "Bertie". At the other end of the carriage, cousin Maude Dread and the twins Wellington and Forsythia sat still and calm, Maude staring out the window, while the twins stared straight ahead as if they were trying to pass a test.
As they were entering the city, they saw several things that caught their attention, the sight of the tide coming from the famous Gulf of Mexico to the southern coast of Louisiana, huge ships from other parts of the world, men arranging fish in large wooden boxes that were destined for Spain, while others were riding on horses; they were not really favoring what they were witnessing in front of their eyes. after all, they were a rich family that used to always see themselves as superior to other social classes.
“Florence, I deserve an explanation,” Without looking away from the window, keeping a bitter tone in her voice, Maude demands.
“Tell me, dear Maude, what do I have to explain to you? - Florence replies, turning to look at Maude with her gummy smile.
“Look at all those ships out there in the bay. Wouldn't it have been more ideal to have sailed on one of those ships coming straight to New Orleans, instead of taking a grotty carriage and disgusting our eyes with all that filth out there? I wouldn't want to catch any bacteria from any of those Non-European “workers" out there.”
“There, there, Maude. This was our cheapest option, my dear. Look on the bright side, it won't be long before we get to visit our precious little Edward.” As Florence spoke, buildings, businesses, carriages, and a much more lively and colorful place began to appear as they entered the French area of the city. People playing jazz in the streets, men in suits and ties, women in beautiful dresses, and the smell of food beginning to pervade everywhere. “What a picturesque place! It's very splendid, don't you think so, children?” Florence asks the twins, so they just remain silent, looking at her coldly.
“Well, I don't find much difference from what we saw before” Maude replies, judging everything in front of her with her eyes.
“New York was more for our kind of people, but you have to behave yourself, Maude. They might think we're some kind of celebrity here because we look so dazzling.”
“Our kind of people or not, there sure are as many cuties here as there are fish to be caught!” Bertie says as he watches the women walking down the street from the carriage window, so Florence slaps him on the hand with an umbrella, telling him to behave. “I wish that nephew was part of my family," Bertie whispers as he rubs his hand.
“He has been since you married me, honey," Florence smiles.
“Besides, manners are the most important thing a man should have,” Maude adds to the conversation.
“ I still remember when our precious Edward was a little boy, running around the manor with us every morning. Too bad his idiot father decided to shut that damn mine down. We had everything” Florence quickly changed her attitude, folding her umbrella in anger, she held a huge grudge against George Gracey's side of the family.
“Now, now, remind me one more time, Florence. So why did we come to visit this kid?” Bertie asked, according to him it didn't make sense that they were going to visit the relative of someone they didn't want in their life, it just didn't add up, it made him scratch what little hair he had left on his head.
“Oh, let's say it's not just him we've come to visit," Florence said as she laughed in a specifically suspicious way as if she was up to something, or rather SINCE she was up to something. When they talked about of the Dread family, they were not to be trusted, especially Aunt Florence, she was a delicate case.
*
Hours later that same day. The Dread carriage stopped in front of a gate surrounded by huge trees, the road was no longer stone or dirt, but mud, everything looked very green and grey. They were nowhere else but in front of Gracey Manor. They could see the beautiful bridge bearing the family crest under a huge lake, the beautiful gardens with flowers and statues adorning them, and of course, most impressive of all, the majestic white Victorian mansion at the end. Gilbert, who was watering the plants, approaches the carriage and asks, "Good day. Could you tell me why you have come?”
“The Dread family have come all the way from New York on this occasion to visit Master Gracey, sir.” says the coachman of the carriage. On getting that information, he returns to the fence, opening the gate. “You are welcome,” Gilbert says as the carriage drives past him.
As the carriage passes through the courtyards of the manor, Lenore stands on the tip of a tree branch, watching the carriage go by, Maude looks the raven straight in the eye, causing it to lift its wings and fly back to the manor, where an open window was waiting for it; Maude makes a gesture of disgust, she was uncomfortable with animals inside the houses, to her it was an act of impurity to the social position they held. Inside the mansion, Gracey poked his head through the window curtains, watching his relatives' carriage park in front of the front steps. Their presence made the atmosphere feel as thick as fog on a winter morning. They were like a spoonful of salt in a cup of coffee.
The front door of the mansion opens, and out comes Boris, along with three other servants sent by Gracey, forming a line in front of the mansion steps. The Dread family coachman steps carefully out of the carriage and opens the doors, from which the whole family gets out. Aunt Florence, Bertie, Cousin Maude, and the twins had finally arrived at their destination, all looking up at the huge, imposing mansion in front of them. Gracey approaches the front door with the intention of coming out to greet and welcome them, but he was not ready to see them again. His anguish and tension made the heartburn start to rise from his stomach to his throat, but after all, he was not going to be able to spend the whole time frozen in front of the door with his hand on the knob, so he thought, "It will only be a few days, you don't have to let the past get to you, they are your family, Edward. You'll just give them a tour of the mansion, they'll walk around the city and that's it. All you have to do is turn this knob, and all this stress will be over."
Gracey turns the knob, opens the door, and stands on the porch of the mansion with his hands clasped together and a smile on his face, feeling chills all over his body from the cold, damp weather he felt on his way out. “Welcome home, family!” Gracey says cheerfully, holding onto the handrail as he makes his way down the stairs to greet them.
“EDWARD! MY NEPHEW! How have you been, angel of my heart?” Florence runs with open arms to Gracey, giving him a big, affectionate hug, and two big kisses on both cheeks.
“Aunt Florence, how nice to see you again!” replies Gracey.
“Oh, my little Edward! Look how much you've grown, you're all grown up, you're a big man now. You don't know how much we miss you. The last time we saw you, you were just a little boy. * Sigh* and you still are to me.” Florence says as she squeezes Gracey's cheeks, still talking.
“Maude! Look, come and see your cousin, he's quite a gentleman now.” Shouts Florence for Maude to go with Gracey to greet him. “Quite a wealthy gentleman, that's right.”
Maude approaches Gracey firmly, after all, they hadn't officially seen each other since they were children, he holds out his arms, trying to hug her as a welcome, but she responds by shaking his hand, so Gracey stops and ends up shaking hands with her too.
“Gracey.” Greets Maude hostile.
“Maude, you're nothing like I remember you,” says Gracey, maintaining his positivity.
“Well, people change, and you got to get used to that. Edward.” Maude removes her hand from Gracey's and turns away without returning her gaze once. As out of sorts as Gracey was, he tried to keep his smile towards them, after all, it was his family that was going to visit him in his new home, he had to make a good impression on them.
“Oh, for heaven's sake! where are my manners?” Florence exclaims. “Edward, there's someone new in the family I'd like you to meet.” Florence takes Bertie by the hands, making him walk towards Gracey.
“Edward, dear, meet your Uncle Bertram,” Florence says with a huge smile plastered on her face.
“My boy! How do you do?” Bertie shakes his hand towards Gracey, he takes it, greeting him cordially.
“An honor to meet you, Sir Bertram. You are most welcome.”
“Bertram" Bertie says, mimicking Gracey. “Come on man, just call me Bertie, heh! heh! heh!”
“I'm very glad to have you as a member of the family, welcome. I imagine you must be part of the S.E.A (Society of Explorers and Adventurers) I see.”
“Adventurer Bertram Dread at your service, heh heh heh heh. Ex-professional hunter, there is no prey I am not afraid of on this wild planet.”
“I understand hunting is a highly respected sport.” Gracey replies.
“Yup, so keep in mind you've got a whole athlete in the family in front of you.” Bertie puts a hand on Gracey's shoulder. “And let's face it, no one wants a little angel from heaven like you to be so formal with everyone, no one really believes you are like that. What do you want from me?” Gracey felt threatened by everything Bertie was telling him, he didn't know this man, he didn't know anything about him, was it a threat? Was it advice? No one knows what this man was up to, but the seriousness of his attitude was quite imposing, after all, Bertie let out a laugh, slapping Gracey's hand. “Just kidding, lad, you should have seen your silly face! Nice house, I hope you've got room for Claudius," says Bertie as he walks away from him.
“Claudio? Sorry, I think there's been a misunderstanding, I thought it was just you guys coming.” Gracey asks with great confusion.
“Do you see that snake inside that cage that old man is carrying? That's Claudius.” Bertie points out the carriage from which they came, where the coachman is lowering a large cage with a huge snake inside, his gaze was like looking into the eyes of death itself, making Gracey swallow as he passes him.
As the family chatted and greeted each other, Leota remained inside the mansion, standing just inside the door frame, she watched the new guests who had just arrived in the black carriage, and how Gracey interacted with them, total strangers. Gracey senses Leota's gaze from afar, so he turns to look at her, immediately returning his attention to the family.
“Family, it's time for you to meet someone I want you to meet.” Gracey remarks as he finishes talking to them.
“Oh, how wonderful, she is probably the new lucky damsel who has come to marry our dear Edward, isn't she?” Florence says proudly to Maude as she folds her arms. Gracey signals Leota to come down to visit the family, but Leota takes a step behind the door, Gracey goes up to the door, where he stands talking quietly to her. The family was confused by what was going on. “Maybe he got himself one of those mute ones. I don't blame him.” Bertie says jokingly, for which Maude looks at him with intense contempt.
“There she comes!” Florence exclaims as she sees Gracey come down, her eyes sparkle with excitement as she sees the supposed woman Gracey has been dying to introduce, but as she sees Leota, Florence's expression changes, having a combination of surprise, contempt, and anger, obviously she wasn't the only one, the rest of the family was in the same way.
“Family, this is Madame Leota. She has been living with me for the last nine months since I moved here.” Gracey introduces them to Leota, he had hoped that they would see her as he saw her, of course, Leota can look a bit imposing and somewhat threatening with her seriousness and wisdom, but once you got to know her, she was a person you could trust and deal with, a good friend and companion.
“It is a pleasure to meet all of you. Welcome to all of you.” Leota greets, showing a cordial smile, giving you all the necessary respect due.
“Very good morning, Leota, it's a pleasure to meet you! I imagine you must be the new housekeeper, do you think you could...?” As she speaks, Florence takes off her coat and begins to fold it to give it to Leota, until Gracey steps in her way.
“Actually, Aunt Florence, she is no housekeeper. She is my companion and friend. We live together in the mansion.” Gracey puts a hand on Leota's shoulder as she clarifies. Florence did not believe what she had just heard, she had never imagined such a thing in her life; Florence straightens her posture, raises her shoulders, looks Leota up and down, smiles quickly at her, and walks to the side of her as if she were not there.
Leota turns to look at Gracey, it was obvious she knew what was going on in that scenario. ”Give them some time, Leota. They have to understand somehow.” Gracey says in a whisper, he didn't want anything to get out of control. Leota didn't answer, but she made it very clear what she thought.
“All right, family! How about coming in and staying in your rooms? Gilbert will show you to your rooms, so be careful as you go through and all follow along together” Gracey invites them in. Gilbert and Boris approach the carriage to help the coachman load the Dread family's luggage. As they walk Bertie approaches Florence and whispers in her ear “Hey, this is the rich guy you were telling us about. Where is he?”
“All in good time, darling. All in good time.”
*
In the bay port of the city of New Orleans that same night, there was a man getting off a cruise ship that had arrived from Germany. He was about six feet tall, with white hair, wrinkled skin, an elongated face, and a slack eye, you could tell he was an elderly man.
A young man with brown skin and dark, straight tousled hair whose name was Randall Crump approaches the older man with whom he traveled on the same cruise. “It's quite a different atmosphere, don't you think?” Randall Crump commented. While Randall was carrying several bags, suitcases, and a hatbox, the older man was carrying only one suitcase.
“You, my friend, are still too young to start a new life in a new city. I like your dedication. Just be very cautious, I would not recommend you to be alone in the darkness of this world. Randall.” The old man says to him. His voice was deep and strong. A resonant transatlantic accent.
“Darkness of this world?” Randall asks.
“The cruelty of man. The human being can fall into the temptation offered by darkness and enter into despair until he ceases to be a person.” The old man answers. Randall remains silent, not knowing how to respond to what he had said.
“I beg your indulgence, Mister Crump. I come from a place too unequal to what you are used to.”
“Don't worry about that, Mr. Frees. It's just that I've come back home after years of escaping to Germany.” Randall Pace comments.
“Mr. Frees?”
“That's your name, isn't it? I read it on your briefcase and thought that was your name.” He picks up his luggage and continues walking, heading for the immigration office where many people are waiting. People from Germany, Italy, Sweden, China, Ireland and Norway.
“Name and last nam.” Says the government employee to the man. “My name is... Frees. Ramsley Jacob Frees.” The man replies, finally revealing his name, as he hands him his passport.
“Come in Mr Frees, welcome to America.” says the government employee, letting him pass. Mr Frees approaches the street and manages to get a carriage, he asks the coachman which was the nearest hotel to the main square, as he loved to listen to the sound of jazz coming through the window of his private room.
Arriving at the hotel, Mister Frees tips the coachman as he gets out of the carriage, enters, makes his reservation at the hotel and stares out of the window at the view. The cathedral could be seen dazzling with its sharp peaks and crosses. He feels a little thirsty, so he decides to go down for a drink at the bar on the ground floor of the hotel he was staying at.
“Excuse me, very good evening, do you think I could have a Cuba Libre, please?” The bar waiter takes Mister Frees' order and starts to prepare it, while he sits looking at the dark night street. As he waits for his drink an Italian man arrives and sits two chairs away from him.
“The weather is getting wetter and wetter, isn't it?” The Italian man comments to Frees, trying to make conversation with him.
“Yes, in Germany it used to be this kind of humidity, but not this hot, ((Thank you very much)” Mister Frees answers the man as he receives his drink.
“Are you from Germany?” asks the other man.
“I just moved to New Orleans, I arrived tonight,” says Mister Frees.
“Man, that's incredible. Welcome to New Orleans, just watch out for the voodoo witches, they appear everywhere asking for money.” The man starts laughing at his own joke.
“ And you're a resident here?” asks Mister Frees.
“Nah, I moved here a year ago. I come from Venezia, that's my birthplace, but hey, everyone tries to live the American dream now, right?” The man continues to drink. Mister Frees wipes his mouth with a napkin. He stares at the napkin and smiles.
“That's exactly why I've moved.” Mister Frees jokes.
“Cameriere! Pour another drink for my friend from Italy, it's on me.”
“What? Amico, you don't have to do that, seriously.”
“It's the least I can do for a new friend, after all, I'm here to socialize.”
The waiter pours the Italian man another Cuba Libre, he grabs it, and raises his glass in reference to making a toast. “To life, friend!” says the Italian man. Mr Frees makes a toast with him and they both drink.
Hours later they are both loitering in an empty street in the middle of the night, both holding each other's shoulders and in a high level of inebriation. The Italian man had a bottle of wine in his hands, it was empty from how much they had drunk from it.
“My friend, I don't think I ever knew your name, what is it?” asks Mr Frees.
“ALESSANDRO!!!”
“What a good... what a good name.” Mr Frees suddenly stops and drops to his knees and coughs. Alessandro holds him down, asking if he's all right, but Frees won't stop coughing.
“I'm going to throw up!” exclaims Mr Frees.
“Good, good. Yes. Come, let's go to that alley so you can vomit as much as you want, there's no need to stain the street.” Alessandro takes Mr Frees to the nearest alley. Mr Frees runs to the nearest wall to stop himself with his hands while he does what he has to do. As luck would have it, the alley they were in was a dead end.
“Alessandro, pass me... pass me the bottle, I need to smell alcohol to calm this nausea.”
Alessandro looks at the bottle “Oh, right!” Acting to help Mr Frees, he approaches him slowly, it was difficult to see where he was as the night darkness consumed every image within the shadows, especially within an unlit alleyway. Mr Frees reaches out his hand, taking the bottle weakly, but before long a sound of breaking glass alerts Alessandro, thinking something bad has happened he moves closer to where he thought Mr Frees was, but there was nobody there. There was no one there. He swore he was in that spot, less than a minute ago he had taken the bottle from his hands, he had to be there in that corner.
“Frees?” Alessandro asks, stepping further into the dark corner of the alley. He rubs his eyes. “Hell, maybe I'm too drunk.”
Alessandro had come to the conclusion that the alcohol had made him lose consciousness and before he knew it Mr Frees had been gone for hours. It was already a fact in his mind. He turns around to go home, just as he does he finds Mr Frees standing in front of him with the broken bottle in his hands, and just before Alessandro can react, he is stabbed in the throat, ripping open the skin on his neck, he couldn't scream, he couldn't breathe. He could only feel the blood pouring from his exposed sales. He falls, crashing his head on the wall, as he looks at Mr Frees walking towards him slowly, as he is right in front of him, he squats down and whispers to him. “This was all your fault, your mistake was letting yourself get carried away by the darkness getting close to you. Those who do not fear the unknown are the first to be led into the dream of eternity.”
Mr Frees stains the fingers of his hand with the corpse's blood and licks his fingers with his tongue. Once he has left everything as it is, he gets up and leaves the scene.
*
Meanwhile, inside Gracey Manor, the Dread family was settling in at the central dining table, where they were all being served by Doris and Gilbert, who was passing by with a serving cart; napkins were being laid out for them, trays of food were being served in the center of the table, and the soup was being served in medium bowls as a starter.
“Oh my goodness, what is this delicacy?” asks Bertie as he tastes the soup.
“It's Shrimp bisque, sir.” Gilbert replies.
“All credit goes to Boris, she's the most talented cook that ever lived. All natural ingredients and in perfect condition. I've always savored her food since I was a kid.” Gracey explained to his family as he looked at Boris with a sincere smile of appreciation.
“I'm more than sure that's how it was, Edward. Your favorite part of the day was always mealtime.” Florence says softly.
“I must admit I'm impressed by how you managed to capture the Victorian essence of your New York home, I can hardly tell the difference. You were very lucky to find such a home at an affordable price. The exterior is Second Empire, isn't it?” Maude asks.
“It's Greco-Renaissance, actually. Very popular during the last century.” Gracey replies.
“Oh! Then I imagine it was a plantation house originally.” Says Maude.
“It's not quite like that. Why this mansion was built remains a mystery to this day. But it is said that the spirit of whoever built it is still inside this mansion, roaming the corners. Waiting to return for his treasure.” The whole family laughs out loud at what Gracey had said, Gracey had played along and slowly began to laugh. Just then Leota arrives, she greets everyone and apologizes for being late for dinner. “Leota! You're just in time, you missed the entrance meal. But you're just in time for the main dish. We're having turkey for dinner tonight with my family.” Florence looks bitterly at Leota, but decently decides to smile as if she were a friend; knowing full well that she was uncomfortable with her presence.
Florence exhales deeply. “Edward, dear, why haven't you told us how you met your romani immigrant wife?” asks Florence.
Gracey sighs deeply and opens her mouth to answer, so Leota interrupts “NO... we are not in matrimony at the moment, Mrs. Dread. We just happen to be friends and share the same house.”
Florence opens with her eyes wide open in surprise, she felt furious and shocked inside, but on the one hand relieved. “Is that true, Edward, you let Leona live in your house for free?”
"That's right, Aunt Florence. We are just friends. But she helped me a lot with this house. She's a great person and I'm very fond of her." Gracey replies.
“Well, one day you will meet a princess who is waiting for her white knight.” Bertie comments.
Gracey lowers his gaze and turns to look at his family with forced happiness, his smile could say nothing else. “How do you like your turkey, do you need gravy?” Gracey comments, changing the subject.
“IT'S DELICIOUS!” exclaims Bertie with a mouthful of food.
An intense roar is heard, all the windows vibrate and the curtains vibrate, while the whole room lights up. A thunderstorm had begun, a rain was falling, blowing out every single candle; Gilbert and Doris begin to close all the windows in a hurry.
“Edward, darling. We have not taken the time to offer our condolences on the loss of your father George Gracey II. We hope you recover soon from his death." Florence comments.
Gracey gently wipes her mouth with her napkin. “To tell you the truth, Aunt Florence. I have tried to move on, but your gesture is very honest. Your company is worth everything right now, I've never felt less lonely.” Leota turns to look at him as the rest of the family smiles, especially Florence.
“What about your Uncle Jacob, have you heard from him?” Maude asks sensibly.
“I haven't heard from your father since he left the mine with my father, I know they used to be very close as brothers…” Answers Gracey until interrupted by Maude saying "Half. Half brothers."
“Right, Half siblings.” Gracey continues. “The mine was what brought them together, but unfortunately it all came to nothing. The business failed.”
“And how was it that the mine went bust?” Bertie asks.
“The mine wasn't what it used to be. As you know, Jacob and my father acquired the papers of the Big Thunder mining company, the products were not of the same quality. The ground was poor in extracted primary materials. Many workers quit and others had to be laid off. Profits were gradually declining. We saw less and less of my father. Until... he became ill with influenza. He passed away days later. We never saw his body. The company was forced to close. But anyway, he wanted me to inherit his share of the company, it's the last thing I would have from him.”
“Oh for heaven's sake, did he really want to inherit all the company's money?” asked Florence, in a disguised way, not wanting it to be obvious that her visit was not only meant to be a visit to her legal nephew.
“That's right. Jacob was supposed to hand it over to me once I moved here.” Gracey replies.
“I see…” Florence is interrupted by the sound of a door opening, from which Gilbert arrives. ”Master Gracey, someone has come to visit you. He claims to be your family.” Says Gilbert.
“My God. Who could it be at this time of night?” Gracey exclaims.
A pair of wet footsteps are heard coming through the door, everyone turns to look in the direction of the sound. A man with a large handlebar mustache, wearing a dark coat, a monocle over his left eye, and an ivory cane. “He says his name is Jacob Dread, sir.” Gilbert replies.
Gracey rises from his seat quickly and hurries towards him “Uncle Jacob! I didn't expect you to arrive tonight. Why didn't you call ahead?” Gracey asks, trying to help.
“Didn't I send word? But I sent a letter from New York saying he would be here this time of year.” says Uncle Jacob.
“I'm very sorry, but I didn't receive any letter. Are you sure you sent it to the right address?” asks Gracey.
“I wouldn't make so horrendous mistake as that. Next time try to be more careful. I expected more from you, Edward. After all these years and you can't take the time to give me a good welcome. What kind of a gentleman are you?” Jacob pauses for a moment to take in the interior of the enormous room in which they are standing. “I must admit you have a very nice house, nephew.”
“Where are my manners? Uncle Jacob, would you like to join us for dinner? We were just finishing the main course, but there's still plenty of soup left for you.” Gracey says inviting his uncle to the feast.
“I'd rather be dry first.” Jacob replies.
“Oh, of course. Gilbert! Please take my uncle Jacob to the bathroom and give him…”
“Please don't waste your servants' energy. I came with my own servants.” Jacob raises one of his arms, snapping his fingers, at which point two servants arrive. A pale-skinned maid with a Cleopatra haircut, who wore a black dress with white trim, a full skirt, and white apron; her name was Zoelie Josephine. And Francis Xavier, a man of tall stature and very good bearing, his hair was white, but like his mustache it was impeccable.
Meanwhile, from the center table, Florence watched Gracey and her uncle Jacob conversing, she intensely began to twirl a cloth napkin in her hands until she tore it into two pieces. Her emotions were all over the place, but more than anything else, she knew that she had come for who they came for, more than anything else, why they came, for it was nothing more than her treasure. Once Jacob leaves, Gracey returns to the table to sit down.
“Who was in the door, my dear?” asks Florence gently.
“It was... it was my uncle Jacob. He came to finish a transaction.”
“Oh, Gracey, that's wonderful news...we haven't seen Jacob for a long time, the twins haven't met him… I think it would be a very wonderful opportunity to... "see him again." Florence replies smiling, a smile more fake than anything else.
*
“So... Jacob, didn't you find the journey here too tiring? Don't ask me, because the way I came here, God bless whoever has to wipe the mark of my ass from all the hours I sat in that damn carriage.” Bertie laughs “Wouldn't you rather your nephew had gone all the way to your house instead of being with all this black riffraff in New Orleans?” Bertie comments jokingly, he was talking while stuffing his mouth with pie. By this time Jacob was joining them at the table. The whole Dread family was gathered. “Excuse me for a moment.” Leota says calmly getting up from the table. Gracey tries to get her to come back, but she left so fast that she didn't get a chance to say anything.
“It was nothing difficult. I went sailing in waters.” Jacob says.
“And be mixed up among the lowly? HAHA! No thanks, I'd rather not spend my money.”
“I never said I spent my money. After all, I went on my own account on the cruise I have in my name, I had my own carriage there included.” Jacob replies modestly.
“Fucking rich motherfucker.” Bertie whispers.
“Oh Jacob, it's lovely to have you home, it's good to see someone after all these years, do you still remember little Maude?” Florence interrupts the conversation, as usual she looked as if she was happy and excited about Jacob's arrival, but being her ex-husband, her hatred for him was what stood out about her. The money, on the other hand, was what cheered her up.
“I'd rather not! The only thing in life you ever caused me was trouble, you nearly bankrupted me, woman!” exclaims Jacob with indignation.
“But if it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have had so many opportunities!” replies Florence between her teeth, without dropping her smile for a moment.
“Chances? What opportunities? OOOHH!!!! You talk about opportunities like marrying a mediocre hunter with gold-painted trophies for putting a bullet in a kitten, who turned out to be a poor sod interested in your money. Oh, right, what a great opportunity.” Jacob responds viciously.
“Family..." says Gracey trying to change the mood of the table.
“I was part of the S.E.A, sir! I'll show you what a poor sod is, come over here.” Bertie climbs off the table rolling up his shoulder pads.
"ENOUGH! I WON'T STAND FOR THAT BEHAVIOUR IN MY OWN HOUSE, WE ARE A FAMILY AND SHOULD BE TREATED AS ONE!” Gracey exclaims, rising from his seat in anger. Everyone looks at Gracey in bewilderment. “I'm sorry, I've lost my mind. Erm, it's a bit late now, why don't we all go to bed and get on with it, Uncle Jacob?” Gracey continues to speak, this time in a calmer manner, regretful of his behavior.
Everyone gets up from the table and heads to their rooms, while Gilbert and Doris clear away the dishes and clean up the place. Maude approaches Gracey and tugs on his shoulder “The kind of manners of a person like Gracey are not very well accepted within the upper class. You should improve your attitude if you want sympathy, Edward.” Maude says in a low, monotone voice.
“Thank you very much for that observation, Maude.” Gracey replies as he looks down in embarrassment.
*
Hours later, Jacob, Gracey and Xavier find themselves in the office off to one side of the library, where marble busts with haunting gazes judged with their cold, lifeless eyes. A huge fireplace beneath the portrait of George Gracey II. A briefcase full of banknotes was resting on the desk, that briefcase was Jacob's property, but Jacob was the one who was opening and arranging it.
“This is all I owe you, 35% of the profit, minus the transportation money and the personal service when you get home.” Jacob comments as he is making Xavier count George's money that he owed him. Taking a big chunk of it apart for unnecessary things. There was no doubt that Jacob was an ambitious guy who didn't like to hand out money, even if it wasn't his.
“Your father was always a pain in the head to me, the sooner I could get out of this crazy place the better. Good night. Xavier, make up my bed.”
“Why don't you let Doris take care of your bed? I could give you a bonus of money to do with as you wish” Gracey offers.
“Do you pay your servants? Edward, don't think you're going to get far this way, especially if you let dogs eat at your table.” Jacob leaves the library, closing the door. Gracey was all alone.
* knock* *knock* *knock*
Two knocks are heard on the embroidered wood in the corners, it was Leota knocking to let Gracey know she was coming. “Leota! Come in, come in, come in.” says Gracey.
“Gracey What happened over there?” Leota asks.
“Oh, we were just finishing up my inheritance debt. But it's all settled really.” Gracey replies.
“I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about your family's treatment. Why do you let them treat us like that? I'm saying that because you seem too upset. And your attitude has changed too much.”
“I understand that, Leota. But you must know that I can't change my family, I've always been afraid of them, they are too demanding. I always feel lost whenever they are here.” Gracey replies.
“Again. Then why do you let them stay?”
“Because they are still my family, Leota. You must understand that.”
“Gracey, listen to yourself. Look how bad they have you.”
“Leota, let's leave it at that. I know they made you feel bad and you don't know how angry this makes me. But I promise you that once they're gone, our deal will be the same as it's always been.”
“I feel a cloudy density burning like hell inside their souls, I could see it through their eyes.” Leota looks at Gracey sternly. Then he grabs Leota's wrists.
“We're from very different worlds, Leota.”
Leota without letting go of Gracey's hands, looks at him trying to keep her emotions inside her head, she knew this was not the life she and he were looking for. The pride in the name Gracey was too pronounced. He looks at Leota tenderly and asks Leota to go to sleep, letting her know that everything will be alright.
*
Leota enters her room, and locks her door, isolating herself completely. She pulls a padded bench closer to her low rectangular table that was in front of her window, sitting down and looking outside. Reflecting. Looking out over the courtyard of the mansion. Beautiful gardens full of flowers and trees gave way to the marsh where the wildlife could be heard making its sonorous nightly concert.
Leota opens a flat drawer that was under the table, inside were the tarot cards. Leota takes them out of their packaging and begins to look at them on the table. She stares at some specific cards. "The Hanged Man", "The Lovers" and finally "Death". Without sensing it, vases and objects on Leota's furniture start to sway slightly. The same feeling as when Gracey was in her shop was present once again. An unfamiliar foreboding.
In front of the door of the mansion was a sleeping black cat curled up on the welcome mat. Out of nowhere it opens its eyes and jumps up as if someone had touched it, leaping onto the wooden porch with its fur bristling, claws sticking out and its ears completely hidden. The cat begins to cry with meows and hisses as if fighting with another cat. The door was immobile, but it was a tall presence that made the animal slouch more and more.
Inside Leota's room, things were shaking more and more, as if in an earthquake, things began to fall. The windows vibrate. Her small bookcase shakes from side to side. Leota was lost in her own mind, unaware of what she was possibly causing. Lenora under the blanket of her cage begins to squawk incessantly and flap her wings in a disturbance. The iris color of Leota's pupil turns a slight neon green. Shrieks and growls begin to be heard from behind the door. She trembles outwardly, she looked very sick. What was this she felt? Why has it happened again? What does it mean? Leota takes her head in her hands, falling onto the table and from there onto the floor unconscious. A stream of blood is let out of her nose. Everything altered had returned to normal.
Gilbert opens the front door of the mansion after hearing the screams of the black cat. When he saw it, the cat was no longer black, its fur had turned white. And not only that, its body was nothing more than a corpse that had become stiff and bristling.
*
While everyone slept in the mansion, Jacob paced the corridors in his bedclothes with a candle in his hand. He clicked the roof of his mouth with his dry tongue, he was thirsty and could not find his servants to order them to bring him water, even though it was three o'clock in the morning.
Jacob walks down the stairs, and across the entire dining room to a small door at the far left corner. You could see that the light was on. Jacob was sure that this was the kitchen, and without a doubt, his presumption was right. Opening that door he finds the kitchen. He sees a man with his back turned sitting at a round table, also wearing bedclothes.
“Edward? Edward!” Jacob says in a firm voice when he sees him awake. When he turns around, it is not Edward Gracey sitting there, but Bertie Dread.
“Take it easy, mate. The boy must be asleep. At this hour he would not be considered early in the morning according to me.” Bertie says.
“It seems the night is what brought us back together,” Jacob replies.
“I can see they're right when they say it's scary at this hour.”
“And what makes you prowl this house at night?”
“The night is young. Besides, I've been looking for my viper. My baby got upset a few hours ago and flew out of the room. It's like he saw a ghost. Isn't that weird?”
“VIPER!? If that disgusting animal ever crosses my path, I won't hesitate to shoot it to death until it's an ornament.”
“Don't worry, it won't do anything to anyone. Claudius is trained and very affectionate. He doesn't bite.”
“You are one of those weirdos who give animals people names. I'm still surprised that Florence chose to go with an indecent person like you.”
“Of course, I am.” Bertie smiles as he holds up a glass of wine. “Hey, what are you doing here at this hour? “
“That's none of your business,” Jacob replies.
“Come on, you're upset about the hour. How about I serve you a glass of wine? I don't think they'll notice at this hour. Look at it this way, it would be better than you spending it on one of your own bottles.“
Jacob accepts Bertie's invitation without saying anything, he decides to sit next to him. While Bertie stands up, patting him on the back. ”You'll find the wine will make you feel nice and warm in no time on this cold night.” Bertie opens a tall cabinet, where he pulls out a bottle of red wine and two crystal glasses, both of which have the Gracey crest on the glass. He pours wine into both glasses.
“Do you think Edward will realize he's going to need two whole bottles?” Jacob asks comically, trying to lighten things up. Very odd of him. But since no one else was there, he seized the moment to humor Bertie, even if he didn't seem to be joking by his tone.
“WOW! Ho! Ho! This was not the Jacob I was told about!” exclaims Bertie, playing with Jacob. “And don't worry about the bottle. That's what family is for, and everything stays in the family. I'm just hanging around.”
Jacob bursts out laughing. Amidst the laughter and humorous conversation, Jacob opens a door located under the sink. Inside was Claudius, Bertie's pet snake. The viper climbs up Bertie's arm, opening its jaw to reveal both fangs. Bertie holds his head gently and ejects his venom into the cup for Jacob.
“So, how is it that you had to pay this kid?” Jacob returns to the table with both glasses, handing his to Jacob.
“Finally, I was dying of thirst. (sips) I have no idea what you're talking about. HA!” Jacob laughs and goes on to drink his entire glass in one go. “I didn't pay that brat nothing. He doesn't know what he's got yet, he doesn't deserve my money. Nobody deserves my money. He was never in the company, I was. But he's a fool just like his father, I just came to play him for a story to keep my word to come. But I'll tell you something. That money is still in my briefcase. That's my treasure. Can I tell you what the best part is?”
“What's the best part?” Bertie asks with intrigue.
“I'm no fool, I'll never be blamed for taking what's mine. Do you think I'd be up at this hour just for water? No. I have my servants. MY BITCHES.” Jacob finishes his wine, without leaving a drop.
“Wow, you're phenomenal. When would I ever have thought of such a thing?”
“Here's a piece of advice. You'd better start with your life again. Why would people want a clown wandering around in the jungle? All I see is another animal. But I must admit that you are a good person, and after all, you are family now. And all that's family stays family... Right?”
Bertie looks him up and down, smiling at him, and says, "Yes... Everything that's family stays family..." Bertie shakes his hand. “ And I'll tell you what the best part is?”
“What?” Jacob asks, coughing.
“That I'm no fool. They'll never blame me for taking what's mine.” Bertie looks at Jacob with contempt and pure malice in his eyes.
Jacob's smile disappears as he coughs again into his mouth. Blood. He looks at Bertie again, who now had his snake climbing on his shoulders. “Take it easy, uncle… you filthy old man.” Bertie says. The last words Jacob would ever hear.
*
A shriek is heard the next morning. They were all gathered in Jacob's room, where his lifeless body lay on the bed. Florence lay, weeping without consolation, shedding tears for her beloved Jacob. It was a day of mourning.
“MY JACOB! MY BELOVED JACOB! MY BELOVED BELOVED JACOB!" cried Florence openly on her knees on the bed of her deceased uncle Jacob.
“Aunt. It is normal at his age. It was his last night.” Gracey comments gently.
With a trembling voice full of dread and her reddish eyes watering Florence runs to Gracey screaming “SHE KILLED HIM! THE IMMIGRANT YOU BROUGHT HOME! SHE MURDERED MY LOVED JACOB! SHE WAS ENVIRED OF HIM! SHE CURSED HIM! SHE CURSED HIM! SHE CURSED HIM!” Gracey holds Florence, stopping her from going against Leota. Everyone backs away.
“A tragedy has happened today, Aunt. The only one responsible for what happened here was death. Boris said she found him in bed sleeping soundly this morning.” Gracey gently lets Florence know.
“THIS IS NOT OVER! DID YOU HEAR ME, IMMIGRANT? I KNOW YOU KILLED HIM!” Florence cries. Gracey signals to which Gilbert and Boris respond, as do Xavier and Zoelie Josephine. They take Florence gently and carry her to another room as she weeps uncontrollably.
“Leota... Do you think you could wait for us outside the corridor for a moment?” Gracey asks quietly. Leota slowly leaves the room, as much as she didn't want to leave, she understood that this was a family matter. It was normal for her to be asked to leave for the time being. “The funeral will be tomorrow night. I will see to it that the rest of the family is notified. It is better to let him rest in peace. He deserves it after so many years.” Leota listens to Gracey's words behind the door. She was sitting in a chair at the side of the bedroom door. Florence's screams could be heard echoing far down the hallway. Everyone comes out of the door. Gracey comes out last with a sigh. He looks at Leota sitting down, so she stands up and walks towards him.
“Leota, I'm so sorry you had to witness all this.”
“Why did you do it?” Leota asks.
“You know how much my aunt was upset. She didn't mean to tell you those things.”
“You don't think I'm the one to blame, do you?”
“Of course not, Leota. I don't believe you are capable of such a thing. I know you very well.”
“But you know very well that I don't like your family, just as they don't like me.”
“Please don't say such things, Leota”
“You know it's the truth. It would be reasonable for you to…”
“STOP!” Gracey exclaims loudly, startling Leota. “Leota, I'm sorry to yell at you, I really am. But this is not the time to talk about this. This is my family you're talking about and you my dear friend.” Gracey tries to contain his clipped voice. Trying to remain calm, he takes a deep breath and walks away, leaving Leota alone in the hallway.
Turning around, Leota notices a dark stain on the purple tapestry of the wall far from the edge in one corner. Leota moves in for a closer look. “Boris.” Leota calls so that she can go and clean it. But the closer she got the clearer the stain looked. It was no ordinary one. That stain had the shape of a face with pointed ends and noticeable angered eyes.
“Yes, madame?” Boris asked as he arrived with Leota.
“No, nothing,” Leota replies.
*
Heavy rain was falling on the grey night. The whole Gracey family was gathered in the left garden of the mansion. Jacob's body was being buried in a coffin, while a priest prayed for Jacob and gave a farewell sermon to the family in loud voice.
“Dearly beloved, tonight we are all gathered here in the name of God. All here in memory of Jacob Dread, who has left us to go to his eternal rest in the peace of Christ. His adored family who are present....” As the priest was speaking, Bertie, who was carrying a couple of suitcases, one of them was Jacob's briefcase, ran to the mansion fence, where a carriage was waiting in front of the gate. Thunder rumbled in the background as grey clouds formed to let a storm roll in. “HANG ON! I AM ALMOST THERE!” Bertie shouted from afar for the coachman to wait for him.
“TRAITOR!” Shouts Florence, who stood in front of the mansion's porch with a pistol in her hands. Her make-up was all smeared. Bertie turns to see her with dread and smiles at her.
“Florence! Darling!” Bertie exclaims breathlessly.
“May the Lord welcome you to the banquet of God's children in heaven. With faith and hope of eternal life. Let us pray, brethren. Let us pray for him to help him cross over to heaven in eternal life and may he also pray for us... “ The priest's words are heard at the same time, with his voice dropping, at the same time.
“I KNOW IT WAS YOU WHO MURDERED MY PRECIOUS JACOB! You have betrayed me, Bertram.” Florence claims to Bertie, who could be seen shivering with cold, fear, and adrenaline. Her eyes were wide open. There was a different kind of pain on both their faces.
“Florence. Love of my life, you know very well what it was that…”
“...May we be reunited with our loved ones.” Finally says the priest. Without Bertie being able to finish his sentence Florence fires three bullets directly at him, one in his head, one in his heart, and one in his stomach. To Florence's luck, a flash of lightning screamed at the same time, covering the sound of his gun. Just as Bertie's body falls to the ground, the funeral march is heard in the distance from the mansion organ. Jacob's body had been buried.
Leota watches with intrigue through one of the windows on the second level of the mansion. She was beginning to understand what the feeling she sensed from the Gracey family meant.
*
The busy streets of downtown New Orleans, Mr. Frees unconcernedly strolls along with an unperturbed attitude. An alleyway with no public access and a body covered under a white blanket surrounded by a small crowd being checked by two police officers, while an investigator observes the scene. Mr. Frees approaches a person asking in his heavy voice. - Could you tell me what all this mess means?
“A man from italy was found dead this morning.” A man in the audience commented. Unnoticed by the cops, Mr. Frees passes under the security tape, the annoyed investigator goes with him, trying to stop him. “Hey Hey! BUDDY, YOU CAN'T BE HERE!” shouts the investigator. At that the police officers notice and go after him anyway, telling him to stop, even if Mr. Frees was serene.
“Just a moment, I come from the distant lands of Germany. My profession used to be a forensic doctor, I have solved more cases than you would believe in autopsies. Things a man shouldn't see.” says Mr. Frees calmly. Even if he was relaxed, he knew how to assert himself in front of the authorities. The officers stop and look at the investigator.
“What do you say, investigator?” asks one of the investigators to... Pickwick! That was the name of such a sturdy investigator with that strong attitude.
"Hmm” thinks Pickwick. ”You claim to be a coroner? Like why should I trust you?” Pickwick asks.
“I understand it was very unwise of me to come unannounced. I am not qualified to work in America. But I can assure you that I can be of great help in finding the person responsible for this disaster.” Says Mr. Frees confidently.
“Wait a minute…” Pickwick looks at Frees with suspicion. “How do you know it was murder?”
“Under the sheet you can see the shape of the head is a little disfigured, the head can't tilt like this normally. From what I can see it doesn't look like the man had a stroke and fell or suffered an accident. Personally I think someone or someone else must have cut a vital vein, probably in the neck, and bled to death. But to be honest it must have been more than a deep cut.” Mr Frees points to Alessandro's corpse, leaving Pickwick startled with unease. “Let me see him.” says Mr. Frees. “I WILL DO IT!” Pickwick immediately goes to the body and without showing the audience he discovers it, seeing the wounds on his neck and dried blood all over his clothes.
“How do you say he died?” Pickwick asks uneasily.
“Stabbed in his neck, some vital vein. Probably in his infrahyoid region.” replies Mr. Frees, confident of his answer.
“And what do you think he was murdered with?” Pickwick asks once more, sweating with anxiety.
“If I'm not mistaken, this area is an obscure part of the city. I can say it could have been a dagger, a broken window, but being a bit more accurate I'd say... a broken wine bottle. Apart from the obvious glass on the floor, that texture could only belong to a bottle. Satisfied with my service?” Mr Frees smiles with his astonishing assurance and stillness. Pickwick checks the marks on the victim's neck, all perfectly matching his description.
“Who are you and where do you come from?” Pickwick asks quietly, somewhat disturbed.
“I told you, I've migrated from Germany. But don't worry, they've checked every single one of my documents.” replies Mr. Frees.
“You're a bloody genius. All these years I've never been able to solve a mystery as quickly as you.” comments Pickwick in amazement.
“The human mind goes further than the physical brain itself, Investigator Pickwick.”
“How do you know my name?” Pickwick becomes defensive.
“It's written on your coat, Investigator.” Mr Frees points to Pickwick's reddish coat, which had "Pickwick" written in gold letters on the right breast pocket.
“Phew. Ha. Ha. I'm so sorry about that, I always forget what I'm wearing.” Pickwick pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, where he wipes the sweat off his hat. “I need to know your name.” Pickwick asks, to which he replies, "Call me Mr. Frees."
"Mr Frees", would you be interested in being part of the investigation team? You would be a tremendous help. That is, if you don't already have another engagement.” Pickwick stretches out his arm, extending his hand.
“It would be an honour to work with you, my dear fellow.” Mr Frees shakes Pickwick's hand. The two of them were officially a duo.
*
The second morning after Jacob's funeral, Florence and Maude find themselves eating breakfast in the mansion's dining room. Florence had ham with scrambled eggs, salmon, bread, and a bowl of oatmeal; while cousin Maude enjoyed only a bowl of oatmeal. The family was still "devastated" by Jacob's departure. For all the time that had passed, it was believed that Bertie abandoned Florence and had sailed back to New York, supposedly unable to cope with the family pressure. But those words came from Florence herself after all; no one had seen Bertie again after that afternoon. Despite everything, she still had tears in her eyes.
Gracey arrives in the dining room and sits down in his chair. “Good morning, family. Maude. Aunt Florence.” Greets Gracey with a smile. “How are we doing today?” Gracey ask. Maude doesn't answer.
“In spite of everything, I have been feeling a little better. Time will make me get over it soon. Love is so cruel to one's self.” Florence says, wiping her mouth gently with a cloth napkin.
“You'll see it will all pass, Auntie. I know it's hard to have lost my Uncle Jacob, and I'm really sorry that Bertram left you. He really didn't deserve a wonderful person like you.” Gracey says trying to spoil her aunt by holding her hand.
“Edward, dear. I know Bertram was not the person he seemed. But we must understand that in a situation as delicate as this, he didn't want to be present. It was too much pressure for him.” Florence comments, trying not to have her voice cut off.
“Or he was just unlucky. After all, he ran away like a canine.” Maude comments. Gracey turns to look at her, telling her with his gaze to shut up. Florence bursts out crying.
“Please allow me a moment.” Gracey gets up from his seat and walks to the kitchen, where Boris stands at the stove. “Boris, would you be so kind as to make some tea for my Aunt Florence? Thank you very much.” Moments after ordering Boris, Gracey immediately notices Xavier and Josephine sitting at the small round table.
“Oh... you... are still here," Gracey says, surprised that they have stayed at the manor even though Jacob had passed away a few days before.
“We have been left without a master.” Josephine comments.
Without words in his mouth and without taking his eyes off them, Gracey rubs his forehead with the palm of her hand. “We really are facing difficult times, aren't we? My aunt will need help. Maybe she can stipulate you.”
Just as Josephine and Xavier head towards the dining room, following Gracey's orders, Boris comes up behind them with the teapot in one hand and a china cup in the other. “Maude!” Gracey exclaims as he stands in the same spot; Maude arrives in the kitchen to hear her name being called. “Can I get you anything, Edward?” Maude asks.
“Er, yes. Do you know where the little ones are?”
“Their names are Forsythia and Wellington," Maude answers with hostility.
“I know.”
“Call them by name. You're not an ordinary man.”
“I'm sorry, Cousin Maude. Do you think you can call Forsythia and Wellington? I imagine they must be a little blue in their room. Tell them we're going for a walk in the gardens of the mansion. And do you know what? I'll tell my Aunt Florence too, maybe that might cheer her up.
“The best thing is for her to remain alone for a while, don't you think?”
“Maybe so. But she also needs to be distracted. I want her to know that her family is here for her. She needs our support.”
Maude nods her head, then walks around to leave the kitchen, but stops after about two steps. “You better know what you're doing, Edward. And it's not just for this time. You can't help someone if you don't know what's inside their head.” Maude leaves.
*
As the above events transpired earlier that morning, Leota was in the study at the side of the library, writing on a small sheet of paper while smoking from a small pipe. Gracey enters exhausted.
“Good morning, Leota.” Gracey waves. Leota looks up to see him, instantly refocusing on her work. “You look tired.” Leota comments.
“I had a little chat with my cousin.” Gracey explains.
“And how did it go?”
“Everything is very dense in the atmosphere. With my uncle's departure, Bertram's disappearance. Poor Aunt Florence. I'd really like to do what I can to help her. But what if I can't do it? What would my father do?”
“It's normal, I suppose. With all these events happening at once it's hard not to be that way. I can't tell you how sorry I am that you're going through this, I'd like to help but I'd rather not intervene. I think I've done too much damage to them already.”
“Leota... Did I really get to help you?” Gracey asks quietly, feeling a little helpless to help the people he loves. “Oh, Gracey. You've seen for yourself how much you've helped me. I haven't been the same since you came into my life.” Leota smiles at Gracey, reaching up to take his hand, making him smile too. Leota lifts her hand and gently kisses his knuckles. “If my answer wasn't enough, here's another.” Leota whispers.
“What are you writing?” Gracey asks.
“It's nothing, just some poetry. It's not very good, but it serves to release frustrations inside the heart.”
“May I?” Gracey takes the sheet of paper Leota was writing on and reads what she had written. It was 2 small poems in handwriting.
“Greed was the poison he had swallowed. He went first, the others followed. His killer’s face he surely knew. Now try to discover who killed who".
"Avid hunter and expert shot,
in the end, that’s what he got".
"Never did a dishonorable deed,
yet found face down in seed"
"Departed life while in their beds,
with identical bumps on their heads"
"Our sleeping beauty, who never awoke
the night her…"
The last one was not finished. “so? What do you think” Leota asks, she leans on the desk, looking at the paper next to Gracey.
“Wow, they're something. I mean, they're okay if they're made to clear your mind. But you're not bad at all!” Clearing his throat, Gracey comments. For he didn't want to hurt Leota's feelings. Even though they weren't terrible, to Gracey's understanding they were a nightmare.
“Of course I am. After all, what matters is the meaning they carry.” Leota picks up her sheet.
*
Hours later, walking through the courtyard was the united family, all but Maude. The place was a beautiful green garden, full of silver, flowers, leafy trees where at the end you could see the waters of the marsh; the wind caressed the meadow with its soft breeze. Gracey had taken the family for a walk in the right garden of the mansion, where there was no memorial stone to Jacob.
“Forsythia, Wellington, how does this wonderful garden look to you?” Gracey asks calmly.
“The vegetation is different from what we are used to in New York.” says Forsythia.
“But the view of the river landscape is similar. Nothing new to offer.” Wellington continues. Both speaking in a monotone intonation.
“Well, there are many more things to do here. I haven't installed any swings or fountains yet.” Gracey looks around, looking for something to show off. “Ah” Gracey directs the family to an oak tree, where a sky-blue birdhouse, shaped like a Victorian house, hangs on one of its branches. “I built this birdhouse when I was his age and it has lasted all these decades. You don't know how many times I had to scare the squirrels away so they wouldn't steal the seeds from the little birds.” Gracey comments. He takes the bird house from the hook that held it to the tree branch and lowers it down to show the twins. “Why don't you take some seeds and let's feed the canaries with your little hands?” Gracey had taken helping his family very seriously, after all it was all he had left, no matter how insensitive they were to him, Gracey had the mentality that no matter what, family came first, no matter what. Halfway through the conversation Boris arrives with Gracey.
“Master Gracey, Madame Leota is looking for you inside the house.” Boris says, but at the end of his sentence he greets the twins with his hand and a smile on his face. The twins look at her with their deadpan expressions. Gracey nods her head and crouches down, giving the twins canary seeds in their hands.
“All right, kids. Here, take my auntie Florence for a walk. I'll be right back.” Gracey says, hurrying off.
*
That same afternoon, outside the mansion were gathered Master Gracey, the twins, Maude, Gilbert and Josephine. Maude is holding the twins in her arms, while Gracey is trying to hold back his tears, his emotions transparent beneath the serious expression he is trying to maintain. Xavier was dragging the corpse of his former Aunt Florence. Taking her pulse by the neck and finding no signs, he performs CPR, but it doesn't work; finally he goes to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but when he opens his lips, canary seeds are obstructing her throat. There were too many seeds to cover his entire neck. Nothing worked. Florence was dead. An ill-fated day.
Maude takes the twins inside. Xavier approaches with Gracey. “I'm sorry, Mr Gracey. She's gone. Do you want me to call someone?” Xavier asks. Gracey doesn't answer, doesn't turn to look at him. His short, sharp intake of breath was enough to say it all. “I understand.” Xavier leaves.
*
Leota is in the studio, sitting at the piano playing a slow melody, playing with feeling. At that Gracey arrives in the room, shaking, several of his hairs were disheveled. He goes to his desk, trying to pour himself some water in a glass, which falls out of his hands.
“Edward. Gracey, are you okay?” Leota gets up from the piano when she hears the glass fall to the floor.
Gracey doesn't speak, he is frozen inside his own mind. Leota feels his forehead, he had a fever. She tells him to go and rest, but Gracey refuses. She sits down and tries to read a book. "It's nothing, I need to distract myself." These were the things he repeated with his mouth, not his mind, over and over again. Leota worriedly leaves the room to give him space.
"SHE KILLED HIM! THE IMMIGRANT YOU BROUGHT HOME! SHE KILLED MY LOVED JACOB! SHE WAS ENVIED OF HOW HAPPY HE WAS! SHE CURSED HIM! SHE CURSED HIM!" Gracey remembered the words that came from her aunt's soul. But Leota could not have done such a thing. "But what if they were right?" "Never did a dishonorable deed, yet found face down in seed" just a coincidence of a silly poem Leota had written as a hobby. JUST A COINCIDENCE OF A SILLY POEM LEOTA HAD WRITTEN AS A HOBBY. IT WAS JUST A SILLY POEM. SHE HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. SHE WOULD NEVER HAVE HURT MY FAMILY. I KNOW HER AND SHE KNOWS ME. I TRUST HER. I TOLD HER NOT TO DO ANYTHING, DIDN'T I? I HAVE HER WORD. IT'S ALL RIGHT. NO, NOTHING'S FINE. OF COURSE IT IS. CALM DOWN, EDWARD! FUCK. DON'T USE THAT LANGUAGE INSIDE MY HOUSE! SHUT UP! MY AUNT LOST EVERYTHING AND I DID NOTHING FOR HER! FATHER, I'VE LET YOU DOWN, FATHER. I CAN'T SUPPORT THE FAMILY. THE TWINS, ALONE. WHAT DO I DO?!? WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?!? THERE IS NO MORE WOULD HAVE BEEN, SHE'S DEAD. SHE'S DEAD. YOU LET HER DIE, SON." Gracey pulls his hair back with his fingers and laughs in sighs until he ends up crying, locking herself in his own gloomy darkness.
Slowly opening his eyes, Gracey wakes up in his room. He was in his pyjamas and was lying on his bed and covered with the sheet and a pair of thermal blankets. He has tea served next to his bed on a bureau. He feels something heavy on top of him and with his eyes he finds Josephine soaking a cold wet cloth which she is putting on his forehead.
“Good heavens, Master Gracey. Awake at last.” Josephine greets Gracey, he had lost consciousness after a severe panic attack and a high fever. She goes back to soak the cloth, but Gracey gently stops her.
“I'm fine, thank you. Jose... phine, isn't it?” Gracey asks in confusion.
“You are correct, Master Gracey.” Answers in a delicate sweet voice.
“What are you doing here?” Gracey asks in confusion.
“Madame Leota ordered me to take you to your room after you fainted.” Josephine explains to Gracey, he turns around his room, there he looks at Leota. Sitting in front of a window, looking out.
“Leota!” Gracey exclaims. She turns to see him, then gets up and goes to him.
“Josephine, you are done. Thank you very much.” Leota orders.
“At your service, madame.” Josephine removes the damp cloth, and holds the teapot.
“You may leave the teapot.” Hearing these words from Leota, Josephine gently drops the teapot and proceeds to retire. Leota proceeds to sit on Gracey's side of the bed, smiling at him to encourage him. Shaking Gracey's hand, she smiles back, only the look on her face doesn't look cheerful at all.
“Are they still working here?” Gracey asks.
“I hired them, you don't have to worry about that. A little more help at the mansion would be useful.” Leota comments.
“I think so... Leota... thank you. I'm sorry for scaring you like that.” Swallowing saliva and sighing deeply Gracey apologizes to her, well, the apology went beyond a simple fainting spell or change of attitude. But everything her mind had deduced from it.
“You have nothing to apologise for. You're lucky I was there, you know I care about you.” Leota lies down next to him. “And I'll keep an eye on you.” At that she nestles her head lightly on his shoulder. Gracey closes his eyes and with a sigh he speaks. “You're all I have, Leota. You and this mansion. Thank you for staying here, but I'm sorry you have to see me in this state.”
“Well, you gave me everything I have. No matter what state you're in, I'll never let go, Gracey.” Leota closes her eyes, holding tightly to his left arm. He opens his eyes. “Leota, the other day when I read your poetry, what did the canary seeds represent?” Gracey asks with intrigue.
“It was something metaphorical. I never wrote "canary seeds" but I think you got my representation right. What happens is that the birdseed usually represents depriving others of their means of sustenance. Basically leaving someone empty-handed who doesn't deserve it.” Leota explains in her sleepy voice.
“Like a sinner?” Gracey asks.
“Something like that. But in that case we'd all be hungry canaries, wouldn't we?” Leota comments.
“I guess so…” Answers Gracey.
“Maybe they were just silly poems I did, they don't matter that much. I'm not even good at it.” For me they were excellent, Leota. Everything you do. They both fall silent, she ends up snuggling into Gracey, giving him a cosy hug. He blows out the candle flame, leaving the room dark.
Both sleeping, together in their bed, a figure approaches from the corridors, the figure of a thin, dry woman. A skinny figure who carried a nail tool, a sledgehammer which made its presence felt as it was dragged across the floor. The woman, entering the room, walks determinedly to the bed where they were both asleep, raises the sledgehammer stealthily in front of her victim's head. The mallet falls, leaving a perfect hollow where a perfect nose, pretty lips and a pair of sweet innocent eyes used to be. Transformed into a lump of flesh and blood. The shriek of a little child dying in terrorization wakes Gracey and Leota at the same time. The stenorian voice of a horrified and disturbed child listening through the walls in the distance from another room. Gracey immediately rises from the bed and grabs his candlestick, Leota goes to join him. Running down the hallway of the mansion they head towards the location of the sound. “Where is the noise coming from?” Accelerated Gracey asks.
"BAM!"
The sound of a loud bang followed by a watery crack is heard behind the penultimate door in the corridor leading to the right-hand corner. The screaming had stopped. Gracey with dread opens the door, discovering his cousin Maude dragging the briefcase which held Uncle Jacob's treasure. But what brought a lump to his throat from the horror he was witnessing was the sight of his two nephews lying side by side, tucked up in to sleep, but with their disfigured heads bursting with large quantities of blood, almost like a waterfall at the edge of a river. Gracey let go of the candlestick, the colour of his skin was completely gone.
“Gracey.” Leota repeated with little breath in her voice. He stepped back a little. Taking advantage of the dread they felt at such an act, she running pushes them away, escaping with the fortune in her hands. Leota manages to grab one of herarms, but Maude pulls her hard, sending them both crashing to the ground. Everything was too bizarre, everything was going too fast. Their hearts were beating faster than usual. Maude stands up shakily, she was already feeling the adrenaline and panic on her face. Leota lifts Gracey up, their minds were already disconnected, he already understood what had happened, but it was too early to process it. Furious he continues to walk slowly until he runs through the corridors, opening door after door looking for his cousin.
“MAUDE!” Gracey shouted from every corner he looked. A gust of wind blows through the corridors and following the direction of the wind, Gracey runs into the dining room. Maude had climbed the wall to reach the edge of an open window. The windstorm was making the curtains dance in the air and all the sails were dead. “MAUDE, COME DOWN AT ONCE AND FACE YOUR CONSEQUENCES! IT DOESN'T HAVE TO END LIKE THIS!” Gracey shouts from the ground floor as he moves closer. “WE CAN SOLVE THIS!”
“DO YOU THINK YOU DESERVE THIS, EDWARD? YOU'RE A DISAPPOINTMENT TO YOUR FAMILY NAME. You're nothing but a spoiled child, you disgust me. THIS MONEY IS MINE, I DESERVE IT! YOU HAVE BRINGED NOTHING BUT TRAGEDY TO THIS FAMILY! I VOW TO GO WITH IT FROM THIS DAMNED HOUSE FULL OF DEMONS!” Maude screams at the top of her lungs full of anger but at the same time full of pride. The wind makes her lose her balance a little, holding on to the window frame, a curtain brushes against one of the two matches she was putting in her hair. She turns to leave, a big mistake. Blocking the wind with her hair, the flame grows larger, igniting the other match, covering her hair in flames. Her monomaniacal laughter soon turned into screams for help. The fire was spreading, soon the curtains were covered in flames and the wooden walls were burning. Leota manages to run into Gracey, who screams for everyone to be evacuated from the mansion.
Soon the mansion was falling apart. Boris was trying his best to put out the fire, Gilbert the same. It was all a nightmare. Josephine and Xavier and the others were trying to get out of the mansion as quickly as possible, taking all possible care to get out the door, with the order to leave everything behind. All the rooms were burning like hell.
*
Hours later, everyone was safe in the courtyard of the mansion. The firemen's work was done. The withered body of Maude and the twins lay under white blankets. A group of investigators were looking into the cause of the fire. Gracey was the only one who knew what had happened, but his mind was too blocked to speak.
Gracey sat on the bank of the river bridge, looking at the misery his home had become. Mr. Frees, who was with the other investigators, comes over with Gracey and sits down next to him.
“You have a beautiful home. Most damaged was the inside right half. It's a miracle that the outside has remained almost intact.” comments Mr Frees.
“...”
“I understand that life can be a mystery, Mr Gracey. But it is full of lessons from which we cannot escape. Many temptations. Things are often not what they seem, but after all... once we choose something and get used to it, it is impossible to get rid of it. It can be a blessing or a curse. Both in flesh and in spirit.”
“...”
“It was nice to meet you, Mr Gracey. I'm very sorry for your losses. I have a hunch we shall soon meet again.”
“…”
Mr. Frees gets up and leaves with the rest of the investigators. Inside the mansion, Pickwick is rummaging through drawers. In one of them he finds a gold watch with the Gracey family logo on it, so he puts it in his coat. “Investigator Pickwick, is everything all right?” asks one of the firemen outside the mansion. “Yes! I think we're done here.” Pickwick leaves the mansion, picking up the briefcase with money which he will use as "evidence".
*
6 months later.
On a winter morning Gracey finds herself in the left garden of the mansion, where six stone busts are arranged in order. They were the graves of the Dread family, each bust in its respective column. Bertie (who had been found decomposing at the bottom of the lake), Aunt Florence, Uncle Jacob, the twins (who shared the same column) and Cousin Maude.
Leota approaches Gracey holding a black umbrella, Gracey takes the handle in her hand. She proceeds to lean on his shoulder. They both looked serious, while Gracey had a more transparent expression of melancholy and gloom, Leota was more reserved and sullen.
“I'm surprised you wanted to use my poems as your relatives' epitaphs.” Leota commented strangely.
“…” Gracey does not follow the conversation automatically. “I simply liked your poems.” There was no doubt that Gracey had much more to say, but it was neither the time nor the place. There was more truth than metaphor in each of the epitaphs.
Raindrops begin to sparkle, clouds cover the sky, making everything look dark and grey. Gracey holds out his hand and looks up at the sky, feeling the rain that has just fallen. So they both decide to head towards the mansion. Gracey's life was no longer going to be the same, but he had to close this chapter of his life in order to move on. The Dread story had come to an end, and the mystery of the family had been solved.
*
Far outside Louisiana, on a train chartered by one of the most acclaimed circuses of the time and bound for New Orleans, stood a listless young woman gazing out of her carriage window. She had brown hair, ruddy cheeks, bright eyes and a pretty pair of blood-red lips. Her name was Sarah "Sally" Slater.
“Oh, Alex, how could you do this to me? I would have loved you to the end.” Sally moans with a mournful sigh as her face hits the window.
“I know. Now, Sally. Alex wasn't to blame, it was just bad luck that the Lion wasn't happy. He didn't do anything wrong. And I know he'd be proud to see you move on.” A man with a thick German accent, who was accompanying the same train carriage, tries to comfort Sally. For they were great friends and circus companions. A kind man by the name of "Victor Geist".
Together they formed a great circus show which was to be performed as soon as possible in the city of New Orleans, Louisiana.
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