Neutral Zone

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Janette Cordero hated hospitals. She especially hated being in the room when the doctor on duty ran a rape kit. She found it demeaning to the victim, to be treated as a specimen rather than the victim of a violent crime.

Doctor Than set the kit on the bedside table and explained the procedure to Louise. Louise looked at the curettes and slides spread out on the sterile drape felt faint. The detectives had already explained the circumstances to the on-call doctor, who was prepared to proceed as usual.

Clad in a paper gown, Louise complained to Cordero that this was more degrading than what she had already done last night. Cordero sympathized with her, but wondered how a woman could just take up with two total strangers on a street car and not expect something to happen.

Doctor Than took vaginal and rectal swabs, then gathered slides from inside Louise's mouth, just in case she had missed something brushing her teeth. Then she also took samples from beneath her nails as an extra measure. She said: 'I don't know how much we can get from the fingernail scrapings, since her hands weren't bagged, but it looks as if we may have some usable samples, Detective. I'll get everything marked and send it over to Forensics for you.'

'No, Doctor.' Cordero frowned. ' You should know better than that. You put everything in the kit and I mark it. Then we transport it to Forensics. Unless you're anxious to break the chain of custody, I suggest we follow protocol. Especially in this situation.'

Handing Louise her clothes, she gathered up the bag containing the clothes Louise had been wearing during her encounter with the Dupreys, in case there was something useful to be gained there. She put the everything in another plastic bag, sealed it, placed the labeled rape kit in a second bag, then waited for Louise to finish dressing.

They met LaGrange in the corridor. 'We need to drop this off on the way over to Dumaine,' Cordero said, gesturing with the evidence bags she held. LaGrange took one of the bundles from her, and led the way to the Crown Victoria parked in the circle drive out front. He placed the bags in the trunk so there would be no question of them being disturbed, then opened the door so Mrs. Taylor could get in the back seat with Cordero.

They took the rape kit and clothing bag to the Forensics lab, then doubled back through the French Quarter. At five in the afternoon, things were just starting to get busy around Toulouse Street. Louise found herself scanning every face for one of the men from last night.

LaGrange parked the car behind the Jax Brewery building, and they walked over to Dumaine: as Louise said, she tended to loose her bearings when in a car.

As they approached a section of residential homes, she said: 'Look, that's the house. The one with the ferns on the balcony.'

'Are you sure, Mrs. Taylor? I thought you said it was a bed and breakfast.'

'They said it was. Philippe had a key to the front door. Inside were two doors and a flight of stairs with another door at the top. We went up the stairs, and Marc opened that door. They had their own keys, and no one else appeared to be at home.'

LaGrange had his doubts that this was a bed and breakfast. Even in the Quarter, B & B's were larger than two suites & an efficiency. Unless several of the rowhouses were connected internally, he figured this to be a private residence, or an apartment building. Leaving Louise standing by the car, he rang the bell and waited for someone to answer.

A tall, thin woman answered, wearing a long flowered dress and a tignon over her hair. Her skin was the color of café au lait, and she wore at least a dozen gold and silver bracelets on each wrist. LaGrange felt as if he had just stepped back a hundred and fifty years.

'Ma'am, I'm Detective LaGrange,' he said, holding out his badge folder, 'and this is Detective Cordero. This young lady with us claims she was here last night with some men calling themselves Marc and Philippe Duprey. Are they renting rooms here by any chance?'

The tall thin woman shook her head. 'Nobody rents rooms here. These are all private apartments. There's a young couple in the basement apartment, a single man and three damned noisy dogs on the first floor. I'm the only one home right now. Even the dogs are gone.'

'Where do you live, Ma'am?'

'The second floor apartment. Why?'

'Mrs. Taylor said that's where she was last night.'

'That's impossible, officer. I was home all last night, with my family.'

'And who would that include, Ma'am?'

'My daughter, her baby and my niece that's visiting from Algiers. Just us. I never saw her.'

'Ma'am,' Cordero asked. 'Would you mind if Mrs. Taylor and I went upstairs to see your apartment? So she can assure herself she has the wrong house, at least.'

'Sure, you all just come on ahead.'

Going back to the car, Cordero told Louise: 'I want you to tell me right now what furniture is in the room when you first go into the apartment you were in last night.'

Louise frowned, trying to remember. 'Alright. Let me think. There's a brown leather sofa, a pair of blue and green print club chairs and there's a fireplace in the living room. There's a peacock screen in front of the fireplace, and the kitchen and dining room are open to the living room. There's a short hallway that leads back to two bedrooms and two baths. How's that?'

'Great. Now, we're going to take a little tour of this nice lady's home. I don't want you to say anything. Don't touch anything. Just look around, then we'll talk about it when we get back to the car. Just remember, let us talk, you just hide and wait.'

Cordero led Louise up to the front door, then the three of them followed the owner up to her apartment. Cordero said: 'I'm afraid we neglected to ask your name, Ma'am.'

The tall thin woman stared at her impassively. 'Yes, that's right. You did.'

Cordero fought to control her exasperation. 'What is your name then?'

'Why? Am I under arrest? Is it a crime again for a woman of color to own property in New Orleans?'

'No, of course not,' LaGrange soothed. 'It's just much more convenient if we can refer to you by name in our report.'

The tall thin woman smiled. 'I am Madame Bel Jean.'

They gained the top of the stairs, and Madame Bel Jean let them into her home. Louise gaped at the furnishings. While the room was rearranged, every stick of furniture was exactly as she remembered, and described to Cordero.

Janette Cordero asked: 'Madame, do you know any men by the name of Duprey? Two young men, and an older gentlemen named René? Mrs. Taylor believes them to be Cajun.'

Madame Bel Jean snorted derisively. 'You won't find any coonasses hanging around this house.'

LaGrange, who was Cajun himself, tried not to sound offended. 'And why not, Madame?'

'Monsieur LaGrange,' she replied, taking care to pronounce his name in the French manner. 'My ancestors include one of the original founders of this state. He married a fille du paquebot from the Ursuline convent. Her grandson met my great grandmother at an octoroon ball and became his placee. As I said, this is a Creole home. No coonasses here.'

'Thank you, Madame,' Cordero said as she stepped between her partner and the woman. 'You've been very helpful. I'm going to leave you my card in case one of these gentlemen should show up here. Can you call me?

Madame smiled and placed the card in the pocket of her dress.