I started checking each room on the first floor. I knew the Ducotes weren’t in the parlor, so I started with the room across the hall, the dining room. No sign of them there.

No sign of either sister in any of the rooms. I came at last to the kitchen. I’d expected to find the catering staff at work cleaning up, but the room was empty. They couldn’t have left yet, because there was still equipment on the counters. The back door stood slightly ajar, and I strode over to it. As I neared I could smell the cigarette smoke and hear the sound of laughter and conversation. Evidently the workers had stepped outside for a smoke break before finishing up.

I was about to stick my head out the door to ask if they’d seen the Ducote sisters when I heard a muffled thumping nearby. I moved away from the back door and scanned that side of the room. There were two doors on the wall near me. The first one turned out to be the entry to the pantry, but it was empty of people.

The next door was five feet further down the wall. As I came closer I could hear the thumping again, and this time I heard the faint sound of a voice. I grabbed the knob and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open. I glanced down and saw a doorstop jammed under the bottom of the door.

“Hold on, gotta get the door loose.” I raised my voice to be heard over the thumping as I kicked at the doorstop. My feet failed to dislodge it, so I bent down to wrest it away with my hands.

The darn thing was really wedged in there, but I managed to loosen it and get it out of the way. I twisted the knob, and the door burst open. Azalea Berry stumbled into my arms. “Thank the Lord. I been beating on that door for ten minutes.” She pulled away to stand on her own. Then she started trembling. “Oh, Mr. Charlie. It’s terrible.”

“What is?” I said, afraid she was going to pass out. I reached toward her, but she turned and pointed toward the open door.

“In there.”

I stepped around her and peered into the dim light of what turned out to be a narrow staircase leading up. I gasped when I saw a body sprawled headfirst and prone about halfway up the stairs. A hoop skirt was canted forward with the crinolines revealed, and the red silk of the gown covered the head. One arm extended beyond the cloth.

Inching forward to the foot of the stairs, I reached out to touch the one visible wrist. I felt for a pulse, but there was none.

Vera Cassity was dead.

I withdrew my hand and backed away. As I did the door at the top of the stairs opened, and more light streamed in.

“Who’s there?” a voice called down to me. I looked up to see Kanesha on the landing, peering down.