Bald Head Island: Chapter 9
My Dear Cousin Chauncey,
I urge you not to be so harsh in your condemnation of little Cousin Marie. She is merely a child coming of age, and as a natural consequence she is adopting the fickle disposition of a young lady. For now, pay whatever the price it takes to seal her lips, but explain to her that the day will surely come when she will be in dire need of your silence, and advise her not to push your indulgence any further.
There have been dramatic developments on the island. This morning Sgt. Teach found poor Montague floating face down in the harbor, his skull crushed by a blunt instrument. I immediately connected his untimely demise with the episode that transpired in South Port, as I find difficulty to believe that someone like Montague would have given the woman money out of charity, but naturally I could not share my suspicions with anybody.
Instead I paid the passage for a barrel-ride to South Port to confirm my hunch. Upon arrival I asked around discretely, and learned that the woman who lives behind the green door in the alley is a certain Madam Philomene, notorious for voodoo witchcraft and trading in children.
I knocked on her door, and when she opened I introduced myself as a friend of Montague, being mindful to use his preferred moniker Andy. I told her that I had some peculiar tastes that were often difficult to satisfy, and that my dear friend Andy had suggested that she might be able to help me find ways to slake my alleged thirst. Persistently lying, I suggested that it had not been coincidence that we had met on the golf course that fateful morning, rather Andy had chosen to make a circumspect introduction that was as inconspicuous as it was ingenious.
She immediately became interested, and I could see how the greed lit up her eyes as she invited me inside. I jumped straight to the crux of the matter, and she readily confirmed that she trades in children and doesn’t care much what becomes of them. After all, there was no shortage of orphans, bastards and other unwanted children in the surrounding areas, and by her own perverse logic she considered her wicked trade a service to society. I wanted to rush out of there, but I had a mission to complete and with great difficulty I hid my disgust and remained.
When I inquired about the cost, she said it depended on the condition in which the merchandise was returned to her. If the goods was severely damaged or, as in the case of the little boy on the golf course, no longer usable the price was higher.
It became obvious to me that I had to stop the evil Madam Philomene and her vile trade in innocents at any cost, and decided to set a trap for her. I told her I’d taken a fancy to one of the children that was with her on the golf course, and wished to know if the child was available. She replied that sadly it was not, as she had deemed it too dangerous to keep them around. In fact she had immediately sold them for a good price to a brothel in Havana. However she assured me that she could deliver similar products if I possessed the patience to wait. She offered a precise specification, a price, a time, and a place as if we were trading cattle, and with that we parted ways.
I can’t describe the relief I felt to be out of Madam Philomene’s presence. Never before have I met such a monster! It is difficult to believe the woman is human, and not a demon risen out of the depths of the burning Gehenna. On the passage back to the island I was overcome with a nausea so strong that not even the brandy could keep it at bay.
Promptly upon my arrival I rushed to see Uncle. I found no difficulty in convincing him to use his influence and soldiers to carry my plan to its successful conclusion and put an end to this monstrous trade.
Ripped by nightmares, I remain yours etc. etc. etc.
Charles B. Beauregard