‘To be honest, I thought Anna had upset you at Albert’s party. She was a little spiky that evening.’
Carla waved away Jack’s apology. He’d suggested a downtown French restaurant on the opposite side of the river to where Lauren had entered the water. In the distance, through the window, she could see the spire of St Luke’s illuminated in the night sky. The street had a row of eateries, all of which appeared to be doing a decent trade. Inside the French bistro, Jack took a moment to look round at the diners. Perhaps he was checking to see if there was anyone he recognised. Satisfied, he guided her to a table in the middle of the room.
‘What did you think of the party? We only had time for a brief chat and then I lost you. I saw you chatting to Viv Kantz, who’s usually good value. Did you manage to speak to anyone else in the department?’
‘I met a few colleagues, but I’m afraid I used the chance to catch up with the lieutenant as I’d been called to help the police. I don’t know if you heard about it.’
Jack smirked. ‘I heard about it from Max. I’m afraid his nose was a little out of joint.’
‘He was trying very hard to hide his pique when I told him I’d been down to Silent Brook.’
Jack again cast his gaze around the restaurant. ‘Find anything interesting?’
Carla regarded him. He radiated a certain amount of satisfaction at Max’s resentment, but she also got the impression he was fishing for information.
‘It was a terrible scene and I’m afraid I wasn’t much help.’ She watched his reaction. ‘I don’t know why I was asked. Viv Kantz comes across as very competent and I was dealing with a recent crime. I’ve come across the occasional old crimes in digs, but my skills aren’t transferable. Have you helped Viv at all?’
‘Haven’t been asked.’ Jack shrugged and pointed at a blackboard. ‘If you like Moules Frites, I’d recommend them.’
‘Suits me.’
Jack ordered a bottle of white wine and leant back in his chair. ‘Despite what Max says we’ve only been called in a handful of times and I’m pretty sure this is only the second murder. Lauren was called into the scene of that freshman.’
‘Madison Knowles.’
‘Right. I heard about it when I came for my interview and it felt, you know, cutting edge being allowed in on an investigation.’
‘But she didn’t discover anything, did she?’
Jack shrugged, pouring them both a glass of wine before picking up his own. ‘Maybe not.’
‘You mean she did?’
‘Not at the beginning, I believe. I never actually asked her about it once I’d started the job, but she seemed to rekindle her interest earlier this year.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘I asked her one day where she was going, and she mentioned the sorority house. This was a long time after the killing, so I wondered what she was up to. I suppose it helped her take her mind off things.’
‘What things?’
Jack frowned. ‘You heard she ended her life, right?’
‘I heard.’
‘Well, she was having a difficult time in her personal life. She’d been seeing someone, and he finished it. I think she’d fallen for him hard.’
‘Someone in college?’
‘I doubt it. It’s hard to keep anything secret in Jericho, although I might be wrong.’
She remembered Max’s distress at her office still filled with Lauren’s things. Hard, but not impossible.
‘You know,’ Carla frowned, ‘relationships end all the time. Presumably this wasn’t the first time Lauren had been dumped. Why the extreme reaction?’
Jack shrugged. ‘I don’t know. When you put it like that, it does sound odd, but every relationship is different. It might have been emotionally abusive, perhaps she had more expectations of this man than previous partners. I don’t know, but she went from being dynamic and involved to a shadow of her former self towards the end of her life.’
Carla let out a stream of air. ‘Why am I getting the impression that I’m only seeing the surface of what’s going on in Jericho?’
Jack frowned. ‘There is only surface in Jericho. That’s the point. Funnily enough, you remind me a little of Lauren.’
‘I do? In what way?’
‘I got the impression she wasn’t much impressed by Jericho either.’
Carla laughed, pleased. ‘Where was she originally from?’
‘Phoenix, which is a little different from here.’
‘I saw lots of photos of the desert.’
‘That was her specialism. Archaeology of New Mexico and Arizona. Her classes were popular because she used to organise summer digs in the west. I personally can’t think of anywhere worse than the desert in summer but, as I say, it was popular.’
Carla thought how different the wide Arizona landscape would be to the refined society of Jericho. For different reasons, Lauren would have felt an outsider like Carla. Unlike her, however, she was lacking the survival instinct. Because she’d taken a night swim with stones in her pocket and Carla would never contemplate that, and not just because Dan had taken the same route. There was a flicker of hope in Carla that refused to extinguish itself however bad things got. She looked over at Jack. His French heritage was evident in his dark brown hair. She’d have liked to quiz him about his background, but this was a semi-professional dinner. Asking about his ancestry suggested an intimacy she didn’t want to push.
The waiter brought two bowls of mussels, the salty steam filling the air. Carla realised how hungry she was and picked up her fork. ‘Will Anna be late?’
Jack shrugged. ‘Doubt it. She knew I was inviting you out for a drink, just in case you think this is a little strange. I think she was a little embarrassed how she spoke to you the other day. Jericho is a small town.’
And she sent you to make amends, thought Carla. ‘What made you get into New England settlements, given you’re from Montreal?’
He gave her an amused glance. ‘The city’s only two hundred miles away but, anyway, my mother’s from Portland. I used to love visiting here. It’s got a sense of hidden history that I adore.’
Carla remembered Viv’s comment at the cheese and wine party. ‘Do you know the story of the lost child of Wachusett?’
‘Of course. A child, Lucy Keyes, went missing in the woods near the settlement of Wachusett. The parents went looking for her, but she was never found, and it sent the mother mad. She could be heard calling out the name Lucy for decades after. Why do you ask?’
‘Viv Kantz mentioned her in relation to the parents of Madison Knowles.’
‘Oh, that’s sad.’
‘You know,’ Carla kept her tone neutral, ‘another piece of New England lore I was thinking about was witch bottles. Do you know about them?’
‘Sure. The tradition was brought over from England and there have been quite a few discoveries in old settlements. It’s part of this region’s history.’
‘Right.’ Carla frowned, taking a sip of her wine. ‘So if, say, someone was wanting to repel evil spirits, what else might you find? Wasn’t there something about graffiti?’
‘Sure – there’s the letter V inverted twice to make an M representing the virgin mother. Or people might immure a cat in a wall. There are examples of mummified animals found by buildings. Then doll charms – often with curses attached. To be honest, I could go on about this all evening. Is there a reason why you’re so interested?’
Carla put down her wine glass and shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I think it’s fascinating, but what I’m interested in is the emotion behind these items of house protection.’
‘Emotions? How about fear and suspicion? You’re talking about an era of child mortality and crop failure. Tragedies were blamed on the devil and people looked to the objects around their house to repel evil spirits.’
‘You mention suspicion. This is where communities turn on each other.’
Jack put down his fork. ‘It doesn’t take much. Why are you asking?’
‘I saw some burn marks recently in an old house. I’m sure I remember reading about them.’
‘Taper burns? They’re another ritual of house protection. Reeds dipped into tallow and deliberately held against wooden linters, beams, window frames. It’s the idea of fighting fire with fire. We call it sympathetic magic.’
‘Why sympathetic?’
‘Basically, religion didn’t object as it didn’t explicitly contravene their own teachings. You’ll find plenty of churches with apotropaic marks. You know daisy wheels, the Marian symbol, other unending patterns.’
‘Fighting fire with fire, you said.’
‘Sorry, are you thinking of the woman in Silent Brook? Let’s change the subject.’ He took a sip of wine. ‘Where exactly did you see the taper marks? I’d be interested in taking a look myself.’
Carla forced a smile. ‘A private residence. I’ll ask the owner if I can show you sometime.’