The catacombs or mausoleum that they now entered wasfascinating. Coffins lined some shelves, but others were empty. Some weresealed, and some were not. Some lids were broken and hung at odd angles.
“They had an interesting problem here,” Monte continued asthey wandered through the crypt. “Victorians believed that death gassescaused disease. And, so, being interred here meant being in a lead-linedcoffin. But gasses built up, and they had a problem with exploding coffins.They solved that with pin holes that allowed a small bit of gas to escape, bitby bit, and small fires were lit to destroy the gasses during the first weeks.”
He stopped speaking. “Beautiful and sad. Especially here.You must remember, while restoration efforts have been massive, some thingswere lost.” He shrugged. “Relatives, for one. Sometimes, there are nodescendants to worry about the bodies of loved ones and…coffins break, remainsare lost, stones shift. Well, you’ve seen the terrain here. Underground, aboveground, things change. That’s nature. And, as you know, Swain’s Lane is steep!”
“Very,” Andre agreed.
They emerged into daylight once again. “I can only imaginewhat it was like in the 1960s and 1970s before the Friends of Highgate Cemeterystepped in. There’s footage, of course, of the insanity when the vampire scarehit its peak, and people rushed the place by the scores, hopping the gates withtheir vampire-killing kits!”
He’d been grinning, but his smile faded. He looked at them,intensity in his eyes.
“I guess someone is playing vampire again, in a bloodyhorrid way.”
“Yes,” Cheyenne murmured.
“Any ideas? I mean, you don’t think a real vampirelike old Count Dracula has truly awakened within the cemetery, do you? Whatwith you being with the Krewe of Hunters and all.”
“We’re more into the concept that someone might like to playat being a vampire, or make it appear as if the old legend might be true,”Cheyenne said.
“No deep thoughts on it?”
“We’ve barely gotten started here,” Andre said. “But, again,we thank you. It’s good to visit the cemetery the vampire was known to hauntyears ago—and is supposedly haunting again.”
Monte remained silent for a few minutes as if waiting forone of them to speak again, or ruminating on a question of his own.
“Well,” he said at last, “I’ll get you back. Oh, just so youknow, it’s still a working cemetery, should you want a plot to investigate. Theyclose down sometimes for funerals. And even where you must be with someone likeme, if you have a loved one buried here, you can get a pass to…uh, visit themwithout the benefit of a guide.”
“Interesting,” Andre said.
“Now, you’re welcome to wander the other side,” Monte said.“Until closing. That will be at five this afternoon. But you need to see KarlMarx. His monument is a giant head!”
He led them back. Cheyenne wasn’t sure what Andre wanted todo. She was pretty sure that seeing the grave of Karl Marx—giant head orno—wouldn’t be the most important part of their day.
Turned out he did want to wander the east side of thecemetery.
They had just started off on their own when Andre said,“He’s following us.”
“Monte?”
“Let’s lose him.”
They did. Thankfully, the winding paths, trails, tombs, andovergrowth of the cemetery allowed them leeway to shake the man.
“Interesting character,” Andre said.
“Suspect?” Cheyenne asked.
“I don’t know, but something was a bit off. Anyway…he’s notlurking behind us anymore, so we need to take up position somewhere.”
“Huh?”
“Didn’t you see her?”
“Her? Who?”
“I don’t know who,” he said. “A woman. About thirtyor thirty-five. Attractive, Victorian attire, blue dress, white lace.”
“No,” Cheyenne said. “But if she was on the other side ofthe cemetery—”
“I think she saw us and noted I saw her, as well. And Ibelieve she started following us. There aren’t people ahead. Let’s take thatpath and head deeper in. She seems curious about us and might want—and be ableto—talk with us.”
“All right.”
They took a path that led through a row of small familytombs, perhaps housing six to ten coffins each. The architecture of themausoleums was gracefully Gothic. The structures surrounded by overgrown brushwith trees here and there throughout the area.
They stood alone by one of the elegant, gated buildings andwaited.
A moment later, Cheyenne saw her.
Whoever she was, she’d been beautiful in life, and had diedlong before that beauty faded.
She seemed shy and hesitant but also eager to reach them.She paused just once in the path and then came their way.
“Hello?” the woman said softly.
“Hello,” Cheyenne replied.
“You do see me. Hear me.” She smiled. “So veryrare! I see people shiver when I’m near. And one young man…well, I was quitesorry. I believe I terrified him, and that was not my intent. The passage oftime is so different for me now. But it has been years I believe since I havebeen gifted enough to find those with this particular sight.”
“I’m Andre Rousseau, and this is Cheyenne Donegal,” Andresaid politely, giving the ghost a slight bow. “And, yes, we both see and hearyou clearly.”
“Elizabeth Miller,” she said. “I am delighted to make youracquaintance.”
Cheyenne gasped softly. “Of course!” She thought of theepitaph she had read. She’d been so taken by the words that she had barely notedthe name. But, yes, it had been Elizabeth. Elizabeth Miller.
“I saw your tomb on the other side of the cemetery. I’m sosorry. You died young—oh!” She fell silent, remembering the inscription on thetomb.
“Yes?”
“Life was…stolen from you. You were murdered,” Cheyennefinished softly. “I am so sorry!”
“It was 1855,” Elizabeth said. “But, please, don’t look sostricken. My dear husband lay dead of a fever, and his sister lost her senses,striking out at me. I forgave her. She was not in her right mind. It was longago, and I’m not at all vengeful. I don’t usually haunt these decaying grounds.I have always enjoyed watching the street life in Highgate. Modern life goeson, while there remains a bit of respect for the past. Perhaps because of theculture retained in these old stones.” She smiled. “I left behind fivechildren. My descendants come here to this day when their time comes, and Ioften help them move on. And I watch. Perhaps I have stayed to
