A Ghost to Die For (16 page)

“Andalyn Dixon,” I blurted out.

“Yes, that young woman. What else do you know?” Geraldine asked.

“I know that John Glapion, or at least a man who called himself that was supposedly a descendant of Marie Laveau, the most famous voodoo queen in all of America. And that John Glapion, alias Black Jack or Doctor Black Jack was a practitioner of voodoo. I also know that according to newspaper accounts from San Diego, he was here the summer before Andalyn died, and in fact, he was here that October, early in the month. However, those reports claim he was a friend of Andalyn’s family and was here on that account.”

“Please, Shannon, let’s sit down.”

Geraldine sat behind her desk and I sat in the chair where I had draped my sweater. I had decided not to mention the painting that the Van Wyck’s have, since I suspected it was the sibling that Geraldine mentioned. At this point in time, I was not ready to let on about this other painting. I picked up my notebook computer and slipped it back into my tote. If Geraldine noticed what I did, it must not have made an impression.

“This Andalyn Dixon, it was she who was rumored to have been involved with the men who embezzled all the funds from a bank in that era?” asked Geraldine.

I nodded and then explained, “Yes, Andalyn Dixon was rumored to have been involved with one of the men, either J.W. Collins or his partner in the crime, D. D. Dare. Her involvement was never proven and after those two men disappeared, even after reports of them being in Europe were substantiated, suspicion still surrounded Andalyn. Then, not long after that, she died on her birthday, under odd claims of having been scared to death by a ghost.”

“Do you believe she was involved in the crime?” asked Geraldine.

“Not really. I look at it from the point of view that if she had been involved, she would have received some kind of payoff, yet she remained here, working day after day as a hat model. Not exactly the behavior of a crook, to remain in the town the crime was committed. I also do not believe she was scared to death. It is the mystery of her death that I am most interested in. I think that the pilfered bank money is long gone and it was spent in Europe by Collins and Dare.”

Geraldine nodded in agreement and looked over at the painting. She turned to me and said, “If Andalyn Dixon is the brunette in the painting, who is he redhead?”

“I’m pretty sure that is the woman known as Ruby Red.”

“Were they friends?” she asked.

“Not that I know of. And in your question is yet another mystery. It appears there is an association between Ruby Red and Andalyn, but the exact nature of it is unknown. They seem an unlikely pair for a friendship, given the role of their place in San Diego society. Andalyn had a good reputation as a professional hat model, and Ruby, well,” I left my opinion unspoken.

“Yes, I see what you mean. Shannon, would you be willing to leave your painting here so I can run a few tests on it?”

“What kinds of tests?”

“I assure you, no harm will come to the painting. What I would like to do is have it x-rayed and we have the special equipment to do that, here at the museum. I’d also like to test the paint. The tests will confirm its age and possibly help identify the artist. I suspect the tests will confirm that, indeed John Glapion is the artist. And I promise that your painting will never be out of my sight, or my reach. You can pick it up later this afternoon.”

“Okay, I’d like that and knowing you are doing the tests does give me a sense of thoroughness in regard to the examination of it. What time should I return to get it?”

“Three this afternoon, that way we’ll have time to go over the test results before I close at four.” Geraldine stood up and I took that as my cue to leave. I shook her hand and thanked her. After leaving her office I drove the short distance over to the historical society.

Chapter 29

Having used the archives of the historical society several times over the past year, I was familiar with their research regulations. I signed in at the reception desk, indicating I would be in the technology room accessing digitized files for the purpose of historical research. The young man at the desk pointed the way down the hall.

The computer room was all but empty, only one other person was there and she looked to be college age. Probably a history major, I guessed. She barely looked up when I walked in. Careful not to interrupt her, I chose to sit at the opposite end on the computer aisle of tables. Using the password the reception clerk had given me, I signed onto the section about social events in the year leading up to Andalyn’s death on Halloween evening of 1892. The society had gone to immense effort to scan all images of the local newspapers for that year and into 1893. I was getting nowhere fast. Then I remembered to cross-reference my search terms. After I typed the string of separate terms: Andalyn Dixon, Ruby Red, Marie Laveau, Halloween, I came up with hits. Quickly, I began to copy and paste my findings into word document files and photo image files. The text and images came fast and furious and I had the sense that my brain was matrixing all that I read and the images I saw. Pictures of Andalyn modeling hats were the most numerous and tedious to copy and paste, but I managed to save every single image I found. In quick calculation, I counted over thirty photos of Andalyn modeling hats. Next were numerous images of social events Andalyn had attended. The last image was the photo of her Halloween party. In a quick glance, I noticed she was, indeed, dressed in a costume of Marie Antoinette, exactly the same costume I saw on her ghost. A chill ran up my spine when I saw the photo. I switched to the results that came up regarding Ruby Red.

None of the newspaper articles linked the two women together. And although I did not have time to read all the articles, I scanned for Andalyn’s name in conjunction to Ruby’s. I was about to give up, when one last article popped up, it was dated three days after Andalyn’s death. The report indicated that at an auction of Miss Dixon’s property and belongings, Ruby Red had purchased the Marie Antoinette costume that her dear friend Andalyn Dixon had died in. Ruby Red paid the generous sum of five hundred dollars for the costume, and made the comment that she hoped the proceeds of the auction would pay for a proper burial of the young woman.

This article listed additional items of Andalyn’s that had been auctioned off. I was excited to find out that Ruby had also purchased a painting, described only as Impressionistic in style, unknown artist, market scene with two women. Bingo, it must be the same painting, but which one? The painting I have or the one found at the Van Wyck house? In addition to the costume and painting, other items of Andalyn’s that were auctioned off included her hats and an assortment of hatpins. Hmm, I wondered if Andalyn’s hatpins were of real value. Hatpins were often exquisitely fashioned out of gold and sterling silver with real gemstones. I wondered if Greg, at the Museum, would know anything about Andalyn’s property that was auctioned off.

The other aspect about the article that caught my attention was Ruby’s description of Andalyn as a dear friend. Really? Andalyn and Ruby were friends? Maybe that would explain the twin-like paintings. I desperately wanted to concentrate on this new and puzzling development, but my cell rang.

“Hello”

“Hey, meet me for lunch. I have news for you.”

I looked at my watch and then said, “That sounds good to me. I had no idea how late it is. No wonder my stomach is growling. I’ve got news too. But, Alex, wherever we go for lunch, I need to get back to Geraldine’s office by three.”

“No problem. I’ll pick up a pizza and meet you back at home, say, in forty minutes?”

“Yeah, that’s good with me. Bye.”

I hurried to save my findings to my flash drive. After I did that and jotted down some notes I had a few more minutes to spare. I tried one more search term: Angelique’s.

Wow, was that a lucky hunch. I hurriedly copied, pasted and saved the files about Angelique, her business and a fascinating report about the costume that Andalyn wore on the night of her death. My thoughts raced and I scrambled to jot down questions and concerns:

  Angelique Houston was the proprietor of a dressmaking shop. The shop’s address was in the Gaslamp Quarter, what is at that address now?

Angelique was a witness to the apparel Andalyn Dixon was found dead in. She claimed she did not design or make the costume, only that she altered it to fit Andalyn. Angelique gave a written identification of the costume for the legal report of Andalyn’s death. Her description is exactly like the same as the photo from the newspaper of Andalyn wearing her costume.

According to Angelique, it was Ruby Red who offered the costume to Andalyn, and it was Ruby Red who sent the costume to Angelique to have it fitted to Andalyn’s size. Sizing the costume for length was the only alteration required.

Where did Ruby Red get the costume? Did she have it designed and custom made? If so, for whom did she have it made?

Evidently, there is no mention of a costume for Ruby Red. And in the other reports about the Halloween party held in honor of Andalyn’s birthday, Ruby was not listed as a guest in attendance. Nor is she in the photos from that evening.

I shook my head in dismay. This case was getting more confusing. I knew it was a good lead that Angelique was a real person and not a figment of my overactive imagination and she was somewhat involved in the mystery, if for no other reason than she was an eyewitness to Andalyn’s clothing on the night of her death. My stomach growled and I listened. I extracted my flash drive from the computer. I logged off. Then, the quirkiest thing happened, I snatched my notepad, it slipped from my fingers and drop to the floor. When I went to pick it up, a loose piece of paper fluttered out. I caught it and read it. It was an old note from days, maybe even weeks ago. The note was a reminder for me to copy and paste a recipe that Rosario wanted from a culinary site. Except, instead of writing paste, I wrote
patsy
. Patsy, of course, Angelique was the fool, the fall guy. Bingo! I knew right then that Angelique was used as the patsy, and it was Ruby Red who used her. But why? I think I knew, but my hunch depended on how Andalyn died. Scared to death? No way.

Now I was ready to meet Alex for pizza.

Chapter 30

“This is delicious pizza. Thank you Alex, I was famished.”

“Me too, glad you were available. So, what are you hoping to find out about the painting?” he asked in between bites.

I set down my slice and said, “I’m hoping Geraldine can give me a positive identification of the painting’s artist, and it’s age.”

“Did you tell her about the other painting, it’s twin?”

“No. And I did not on purpose. I do not want to involve Otis and Harriet unless I have no other choice. It may come to that. Anyway, I found out that a painting matching the description of mine, given to me from Audrey, was auctioned off after Andalyn’s death. According to a newspaper report, several of her personal items were auctioned to raise the money needed to bury her. How sad.”

“Not really. It’s not as if she had family here or financial resources. So why not?”

“I bet had anyone telegraphed her family, they would have sent the money and would have asked that her belongings be sent back home to them.”

“Look, I won’t argue with your scenario, but Shannon it simply may have been a matter of logistics. Without family here, quite possibly no person here in San Diego knew how to contact Andalyn’s family.”

“Okay, that is logical. But, I ran across more information that makes me suspicious of Ruby. It said in the newspaper article that Ruby referred to Andalyn as a dear friend. Pffft, I don’t buy that, not for a minute.”

Alex set aside his plate. He was serious. “Yes, I see what you mean. If Ruby had been a dear friend, one would have thought she would know how to contact Andalyn’s family. Did Ruby purchase other items at that auction?”

“Yes. She bought the costume that Andalyn wore at her party. The very same costume Andalyn was found dead in. How weird is that?”

“That is weird. What was the costume?”

“The doomed French Queen, Marie Antoinette.”

Alex had been about to drink from his can of cola. He had a hold of the can, and in midair it fell from his grasp, spilling its contents onto the table. I jumped up and grabbed both our napkins to wipe up the mess. Alex grabbed the boxed pizza and took it over to the sink counter. “What was that all about?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

Alex turned from the counter to face me. His expression was dark. “Are you sure about that costume?”

“Yes. The paper had a photo of Andalyn wearing it. Why?”

Instead of answering me, Alex shot into the parlor, and came back with a file folder of papers. He sat down and rifled through the materials. Lifting out a single piece of paper he said. “I struck research gold today at the law offices. They were remarkably informative and cooperative. This is the coroner’s report from the day after Andalyn Died. It says that Andalyn died of respiratory failure due to paralysis of the muscles.”

“This is interesting, why did the lawyers have a copy of Andalyn’s death report?” I asked.

“Because they handled the auctioning of her items. As it turns out, one of the present-day partners, Antony Marciano, is the great-grandson of the elder partner who handled this at that time. Antony grew up wondering about the mystery of Ruby Red, her house and the odd link to Andalyn Dixon. Antony is semiretired from the law firm, but remains involved, especially in regard to cases the firm has handled that involve an interest in history. He had all this information at hand.”