Haidée winced as a clatter and a horrific scream topped even the most ferocious thunderstorm. There were shouts, exclamations, shrieks. She was afraid to open the door any further to see what she would find. But she didn’t have to.
The marten raced back out of the door crack. In its mouth was a croissant bigger than its head. A second later, the kitchen door slammed open, sending Haidée sprawling across the wall. The cook, Madame Boulanger was breathing hard as she stood at the threshold. She did not even notice Haidée standing nearby. She was too busy breathing hard as her glinting eyes tracked the small animal racing down the hall. In her upraised right fist was a cleaver.
Madame Boulanger let out a scream that could rival any maniacal marauding Scotsman and charged after the marten, her skirts flying.
Haidée grasped the edge of the doorway and pulled herself into the kitchen. The place did not particularly look damaged. There were a couple of pots on the floor near the stove, but the maid, Colette, was picking them up. A tray of croissants, minus one, was on the table beside an immaculately polished tea set of white porcelain.
“I’m sorry,” said Haidée. “I’m probably too lax about the marten. I should have discouraged it from following me the very first day I encountered it.”
Colette straightened and giggled, but then sobered as she placed the pots back to where they belonged. “No, Mademoiselle. It isn’t your fault. Besides, Madame Boulanger needs a distraction. She hasn’t been quite herself ever since she discovered Monsieur Roland in his laboratory. But he did die of natural circumstances, no?”
Haidée did not try to dissuade her thinking. Three deaths were enough to put a strain on anyone—even someone like herself who didn’t know the dead men very well in the first place. Roland’s funeral had been earlier that morning. It had been a quick, quiet affair in which little was spoken other than Father DeLorme’s blessings and elegies as Roland’s coffin was lowered into the ground. Afterwards, everyone had gone back to the observatory. Haidée had changed from one of her darker dresses to a peach-colored walking dress. She had planned on getting a picnic lunch and going outside to clear her head.
“Monsieur Roland was an old man,” she simply stated as she unhooked a basket hanging near several garlands of dried herbs and onions. “I’m sure he lived a full life.”
“Astronomers living a full life?” said Colette in surprise. “Astronomers hole themselves up in their laboratories and observatories, thinking about numbers all the time. They never really see the world or interact with anyone.” The maid moved toward the pantry, intent on finding something. “They only live in their heads.”
Intrigued by her insight, Haidée said, “Perhaps they prefer it that way. Not everyone feels comfortable being out in the open in strange places or interacting with other people who might not completely understand them.” She placed a cloth in the basket and began putting food inside—some croissants and fruit. She took a bottle of wine sitting in a rack near a cutting board and snagged two drinking glasses.
“Perhaps.” Colette emerged from the pantry holding a package wrapped in brown paper and two small jars—one of cherry preserves, the other of olives. She placed the jars into the basket for her and then nodded her head toward the package before putting that in on top of everything else. “These are some smoked sardines.”
“Thank you.” Before Haidée tucked the cloth cover onto the basket, she slipped in a bottle of the tonic she had been hiding underneath her coat while the maid was preoccupied with gathering ingredients for preparing the next meal. Then she asked, “How about you, Colette? Don’t you feel a bit stifled working here with these eccentric old men?”
The maid shrugged. “This is a job. Claude and I are trying to save enough money so we can marry and build a house in the village. It is just a matter of time.” She looked over her shoulder and gave Haidée a wink. “Are you going to ask Monsieur Renaud to take a walk with you this afternoon?”
Haidée gave her a light laugh. “But of course! The poor man does nothing but lurk in the cellar. He needs some sunlight.” With that thought, she momentarily abandoned the picnic basket in favor of looking for Renaud.
She found him in the cellar writing furiously in a small notebook. When he noticed her arrival, he put his pen down and closed the small volume before pocketing it in his jacket. “Haidée. Didn’t you say you were going out for a walk because of the pleasant weather?”
“I wanted to invite you to come with me.” She glanced in askance towards his coat pocket. “If you don’t mind my asking, what were you writing?”
“I’ll tell you later.” He stood up from his chair and followed her back up the stairs. “I suppose a walk would be good. The cellar isn’t particularly an idea place to think. Being underground sort of feels like one is buried alive, isn’t it?”
“You’re feeling depressed because you haven’t been seeing enough sunlight,” she replied. They entered the kitchen and she picked up the basket. She grinned at him. “The cellar is a lonely place. Perhaps you were craving some human companionship?”
“It depends,” he said, his voice hiding laughter. “What sort of companionship did you have in mind?”
There was a knock at the kitchen door, interrupting their conversation. Colette hurried to the door and pulled it open, revealing the straight figure of Father DeLorme. The priest’s black cloak contrasted starkly with the bright light from outside.
“Father!” said Colette, surprised. “Did you have an appointment today with Monsieur Everard? I’ll go get him right away.”
“No need, child,” the priest replied as he stepped into the kitchen and took off his hat. Negligently, he held out the hat which the maid automatically took to put up on a coat hook near the door. “I know my way to Monsieur Everard’s study and laboratory. He is expecting me.”
“Oh, good afternoon, Father,” said Haidée.
Renaud gave a quick nod of his head. “Father.”
DeLorme flashed a quick, bright smile. “Mademoiselle Avenall. Monsieur Renaud. A pleasure to see you again. It looks like you are going out?”
“Yes. It is a pleasant day other than this morning,” she replied hesitantly.
“Ah yes.” They were all silent for a moment, thinking of Roland’s funeral. But then the priest spoke up again. “It would be such a shame to waste such a nice day anyway. Who knows, it might rain again tomorrow.”
“It is the rainy season, is it not?” said Renaud.
“Indeed. The first frost hasn’t come yet, although it is quite near.” Father DeLorme shook his head as if an amusing thought had popped into his mind. “Oh, and I do remember your request, Mademoiselle Avenall.”
“My request?”
“About the exorcisms? I will do one after my meeting with Monsieur Everard. I do want to make sure that everyone here at the observatory sleeps well at night.”
“Oh.” Haidée didn’t know exactly how to reply to that.
“At any rate, I hope you have a nice day. I’ll be on my way.” With that, DeLorme headed out of the kitchen and into the hallway towards the interior of the observatory.
Renaud gave her a puzzled look as they headed outside. “Exorcism?”
“It was just something I had said when I was talking to Father DeLorme in a prior conversation,” she murmured. “Apparently, he took me literally.”