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“Anne Lamarque?” said Ruth. “She died.”
“At the stake?” asked Amelia.
“Steak? Is there steak?” Ruth looked around, hopefully.
“The stake,” said Amelia. “The stake,” she repeated, as though the word sounded strange in her mouth. “Staaaay-kuh.”
Giggles burbled up, like indigestion. Out they came, in short hiccups of laughter.
Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at the young woman.
She grabbed a piece of baguette and stuffed it in her mouth, but it only seemed to make it worse.
“Is she…?” Reine-Marie whispered to Armand.
“You’re high,” said Ruth, glaring at Amelia.
“Hi!” she replied, then made a sputtering sound, clearly cracking herself up.
“From your stash?” Ruth asked Armand.
“If I had one, I’m sure you’d have taken it by now.” He passed her the salad, which she ignored. “My only stash these days is eclairs.”
“Yeah,” said Reine-Marie. “Those should be made illegal.”
“I’m going to have to take the grimoire over to the evidence locker after dinner,” Armand said.
“Bye-bye,” said Amelia.
Reine-Marie sighed but nodded. “At least I got to hold it.”
Armand wished she hadn’t. It was his fault, but at the time there was no way they could have known the items in the hidden room had anything to do with a murder. And, to be fair, they still didn’t know. Not for sure. The only connective tissue was the Stone letter.
“So how did she die?” asked Reine-Marie. “We never got that far in the story.”
“She was arrested and put on trial,” said Ruth, pouring hollandaise sauce over the salmon and asparagus.
“For witchcraft?” asked Jean-Guy.
“Not at first. It was for promiscuity, running a brothel, adultery. Then the Jesuits heard about the grimoire and added witchcraft. Her husband testified against her, of course. Interestingly, his name was Folleville.”
“Crazy town,” declared Amelia, popping up straight in her chair, her voice loud and happy. She placed an asparagus spear between her nose and upper lip and turned it into a drooping mustache.
Reine-Marie pressed her lips together to stop from laughing.
“Exactly,” said Ruth, who didn’t seem to find anything at all odd in the behavior of the young agent. But then, the old poet had a duck on her lap.
“Her customers, all men, also testified against her—”
“Testified. Testified. No testes,” said Amelia, then bit the tip off the asparagus spear. Jean-Guy grimaced.
“Said her spells had lured them to her tavern against their will.”
“Did they believe it?” asked Jean-Guy. “The priests? Or were they just using fear to control the population?”
“Well, if they didn’t believe it at first, they eventually convinced themselves,” said Ruth. “People do begin to believe their own lies. Besides, these were men who supposedly believed in God. The Devil came as part of that package.”
That left them quiet. Most of those around that pine table believed in God. And, yes, the Devil came along for the ride.
