Malachi turned to her. “You see them. You could have seen them all along. You didn’t know to look for them. Despite what Roger said, not many people haunt a graveyard. Why would they? They didn’t live here. But those two. Perhaps they’re upset by something written on a stone or some desecration committed during the Civil War and never righted.”
She didn’t reply to that; she pointed at the other man. “Rene Asche Rondolier,” she said. “All the ghost tours talk about him. He was mentally slow. He was accused of killing animals as a child. Whether he did or didn’t, no one’s ever established. His parents tried to keep him on their property behind a huge brick fence, or so the story goes. I often wonder if he was mentally deficient and therefore an automatic whipping boy at a time when a lot of the populace was still superstitious. People made fun of him or they feared him. He was accused of killing two local girls—their bodies were found here in the cemetery. The local people chased him down to the swamps and lynched him. Afterward, the murders continued, and I don’t believe the real killer was ever caught. But Rene had already been hanged for the crimes.”
“Poor man. Sure looks like he’s weeping and still afraid,” Malachi said.
“I don’t know if what we hear about his reputation was true, or if it’s been enhanced over the years,” Abby said. “What is true is that his family owned property that’s now part of the cemetery. It expanded in the late 1700s to allow for...well, more time and more dead.”
“Maybe we should try to speak with him sometime,” Malachi suggested. “And the older couple. There might be a way to find out why they’re still here.”
Abby looked at him. “Why is Blue still here, do you think?”
“Maybe he was here for Gus. Or maybe he’s here for you, to help you learn exactly what happened to Gus.”
Roger came back to join them.
“You okay?” Malachi asked him.
“Yeah, sure. Bianca just knew I’d be busy with you two today and she wanted to see some of the sights. We’ll meet up later. Okay. Now we can walk through the city and I can tell you tales as we go. We can visit Christ Church, or the Juliette Gordon Low birthplace or—”
“How about secret Savannah?” Malachi said. “Secret is the most interesting. What do you know about tunnels?”
“Ah!” Roger brightened. “You’ve heard that the city is riddled with tunnels?”
“Secret tunnels,” Malachi said.
“Yeah, and if you’re game, I know where we’ll find some of the best!”
7
“Malachi, there are so many tunnels to choose from,” Roger said happily. “Come on, let’s start walking toward the south again.”
“The south,” Malachi repeated. He pulled the map he’d found on the Black Swan out of his pocket. “Are we going in this direction?”
“Yeah, we can head there. We’ll stand on that spot marked X and I can tell you more.” He moved at a brisk pace and they followed a step or two behind. He paused to look back. “There are lots of tunnels. Some more like catacombs. One I’ve discovered recently that Abby probably doesn’t even know about. Seriously, like I said, the city is riddled with them.”
“I know there are tunnels. I didn’t know the city was riddled with them,” Abby said. “We have the shanghai tunnel at the Dragonslayer that leads to the river. There’s one at the Pirates’ House restaurant, too. And there are houses with tunnels that were part of the Underground Railroad during the Civil War. And, of course, the tunnels near Candler Hospital, but I know they’re off-limits.”
“Yes, there are the Candler Hospital tunnels—truly fascinating, and with very little written history, especially on how and when they were built. Most believe it was during the Civil War. There was once an underground morgue, and autopsies were done there. Some historians note that it was cooler underground, so perhaps it was an attempt to stop the yellow fever and malaria epidemics that used to strike. Oh, and there are the catacombs under an old abandoned church called Saint Sebastian’s.”
He suddenly stopped walking. “We’re on X marks the spot,” he told them.
“Do you know why anyone would have marked this spot on your map?” Malachi asked.
“Well, we’re standing over a tunnel. Other than that? No. There’s nothing here but sidewalk. And some pretty moss-draped oaks next to us.”
“The church is right there,” Abby murmured.
“The church? Saint Sebastian’s? The church you were just talking about?” Malachi asked.
“None other,” Roger told him, obviously gleeful that his knowledge of the city and its history was being fully appreciated. “The church and the tunnels will not be found on official tours. The city’s had a problem at various times with vagrants crawling in. In fact, you can find historic beer cans and cigarette butts at the entries to many of the tunnels,” he said, not hiding his sarcasm.
Abby glanced at Malachi. “X equals underground,” she said. “It doesn’t sound like Helen. I mean, crawling around underneath the ground does not sound like Helen.”
“Helen Long?” Roger looked a little ashen.