Garnet or Garnets Curse

like prisons than care facilities.”
    “Money is not much of a concern. You would have not known it by the looks of things, but Nell’s father had left her a great deal of money. She could have had that place in proper repair, plus hired servants to care for Martin. Nell possessed a mean spirit as a child and sadly that spirit followed her to the end. Why, when I walked into that house the next morning, ...” Maria cut her words off and took a sip of her tea.
    “Maria, you said the house was destroyed by fire the night Ox carried me out!” I said, hearing my voice raise.
    Maria turned quickly and cautiously looked at the man at the table next to us. Her movement caught his eye. “Forgive me ladies,” he said. “I am sorry I have hoarded the newspaper. Here you go. I am on my way out anyway.” He stood up and laid the paper on our table.
    “Thank you,” Maria said graciously. Without replying to me, she picked up the newspaper and started reading. She had turned several pages before her expression changed. Then with curiosity she looked up at me and then down at the newspaper several times.
    “Take a look at this, my Margo. It looks like both of us might have something to hide.”
    Before I could open the paper, Mrs. Tuller came back and cheerfully served our food.
    “I can only hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Maria said teasing.
    “I assure you it will. If not, the meal’s on me,” Mrs. Tuller said, wiping her hands on her apron. She started to sit down next to us when a woman came in the door. “May I help you?” she called out and took off for the bakery counter.
    I took a mouthful of the pot pie and slowly opened the newspaper. I looked up at Maria who was watching my reaction intensely. I nearly choked as I read the bold headline:
    Wealthy heiress Garnet Dragos
    has fallen to her death from
    the Eiffel Tower!
    When I regained my composure, I continued reading:
    Much to the delight of all of France’s socialites, the beautiful heiress had finally come out of hiding. She and her distinguish father, Victor Dragos, who had recently returned from Moldavia, had became large on the social scene. They and their large entourage of family and friends were welcomed guests at the finest restaurants and hotels all over France. Now it has all come to a tragic end.
    On the final night of the “Universelle Paris Exposition” Miss Dragos and her party dined at the restaurant. A reliable source says that cocktails and modern music were flowing. Afterwards, the group was invited on a private tour of the grand tower. The guide cautioned them that parts of the tower were still under construction and were not part of the tour.
    Although there were no witnesses to Miss Dragos’ fall, it was reported that she was last seen strolling along the wrought-iron fence smoking a cigarette. It is expected intoxication led to the accident and no charges have been filed.

    I was frozen as I looked at the photograph with the name underlined— Miss Garnet Dragos . It was Arlene!

    Chapter XI
    A Very Bad Day

    After I closed the newspaper, Maria patted my hand. “Now is not a good time. We shall talk later.”
    She went on with idle conversation and Mrs. Tuller joined us. I was thankful that Maria was quiet on the ride back home. I spent the time trying to sort things through. Perhaps Maria was guilty of the same.
    When we arrived home, Lieutenant Raymond and Ox were waiting for us. When Ox saw Maria, he jumped out of the wagon, causing it to tilt nearly to the ground. “Mama, Ox was good. He say nothing at alls ‘bout the big fire.” He called out, shaking and laughing like a big wind-up toy.
    Maria walked up to him and gave him a little push toward the house. “Yes Martin, you are a very good boy. Now go on in the house while I talk to the nice officer.”
    Ox did not move, but squinted his eyes and looked back and forth between the two of them. “Go on now. Mama will be there in a minute. I brought you some cookies from Mrs. Tuller’s bakery. Go on, be a good boy.”
    Ox turned to me, “Cookies, Ox likes cookies. Pretty Lady like cookies?” he asked. When I nodded my head, it seemed to please him. He marched in the house, chanting one of his tunes, “Pretty Lady like cookies, Pretty Lady like cookies.”
    Maria turned her head to the side and waited until she heard the door slam. “Thank you, Lieutenant Raymond, for delivering Martin. Do I owe you anything for your time?” she asked.
    “No, Mrs. Lanier,