whole business about havin' only Miz Redfern's word about her symptoms, and all the servants bein' gone now, kind of itches me, too, Maestro. But if we took it to court there'd only, be one person hurt... . And she's gone missin' anyway."
Two people, thought January. Two.
"And what about Mademoiselle Vitrac?" he asked, after Shaw's words had lain silent on the air for a time. "Do you know where she went?"
"Once the charge against her was dropped," pointed out Shaw, "it ain't our lookout where she goes nor what she does. Miz Redfern sayin' those pearls wasn't hers, and that money wasn't the banknotes that Cora girl stole, means we got no case against Miss Vitrac for harborin' a fugitive-nor you, neither. Given what they's sayin' about her school, I'd say she left town."
A blue-uniformed City Guard came through, leading a line of chained men with buckets and shovels. A city street-cleaning contractor ambled dispiritedly in their wake. Shaw smiled and saluted them as they went past; the contractor mouthed something, but didn't make an audible noise.
"Who, " asked January, slowly and coldly, "is saying about Rose's-Mademoiselle Vitrac's-school?"
"Well, everybody, now. Chief Tremouille's been asked to investigate the finances of the place. Armand d'Anouy's one of the backers; he's close as a louse with Mayor Prieur. They all say one of the other backers tipped 'em, but they won't say who. And if you think I can ask 'em," Shaw added, scratching his long hair, "you don't know as much about this town as I thought you did, Maestro."
Another Guard pushed through the doors from the Place d'Armes, called out, "Lieutenant? Trouble at Kentucky Williams's." Blood streamed from the man's nose, mixing with the sweat on his face to accomplish a truly sanguinary effect.
"Lordy, those girls of hers got energy." Shaw got to his feet, and fished his disreputable hat from the floor. "I'm purely sorry, Maestro. I know what you're thinkin' that this Redfern bissom started them rumors to run Miss Vitrac out of town to punish her for harborin' Miss Chouteau and shut her up into the bargain. But it don't fit. If Miz Redfern wanted to punish Miss Vitrac, she had her in her hand Sunday, and she let her go."
"And made it impossible for her to remain in New Orleans."
"We don't know that." He studied the inside of the battered hat for a moment, then retrieved a flea and crushed it between his thumbnails. "If so be I hear anythin', you know I'll tell you, first thing."
"I know."
From the stone arcade before the Cabildo's doors, January watched the tall Kentuckian and his little escort of Guards disappear around the corner into Rue St. Pierre.
No, he thought. No. There seemed to be nothing in his heart but a kind of strange stunned disbelieving blankness. No.
She has to have gone somewhere.
And he went out into the streets to search. Throughout the day, under the sickly blanket of the growing storm heat, he paced the streets of the town. At the grocery on. the corner opposite the boarded-up Spanish building on Rue St. Claude, he spoke to the woman behind the counter.
"It's a crime," she said, shaking her head. "A crime. Never will I believe Mademoiselle Vitrac stole that money.
After I've seen her work so hard to make that school, coming down here after she had to let her cook-woman go -I cooked for her many nights, you know." The woman nodded, a withered walnut face within the startlingly gaudy blue-and-yellow tignon's folds. "I never thought it right, her teaching all that Latin and Greek and silliness, but she was a good sort, once you got to know her, for all her top-lofty airs. She could have come here. I'd have got my man to let her have a bed in the attic."
"But she didn't."
The woman shook her head again and ran her dustrag over the already spotless planks.
"Did she have family? Any other friends?"
But Rose was not the sort of woman who easily makes friends. The woman did not even know where Rose's home had been.
Even in the dead, ghastly stillness of the fever season, it was surprising how many people could be found in a neighborhood, once January started to look. Unobtrusive people, little more than the furniture of the street. A woman selling soap from a willow basket. A man hawking pokers. Women peddling pralines and needles. A pharmacist's assistant, fishing for leeches in the gutter. H?lier the water seller, far out of his own territory but