The Chimney Sweep's Tale

The Chimney Sweep's Tale

A Mimi Delboise Mystery

New Orleans, Louisiana - October 1891

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PART THREE: "The Investigation"

Silas Cork's workshop occupied a ramshackle building near the Irish Channel, its interior filled with the tools of a dangerous trade. Brushes hung from rafters alongside rope coils and specialized ladders, while the air carried scents of soot, metal polish, and the soap Cork insisted his workers use after each job.

Cork himself was perhaps forty-five, hair prematurely gray from chimney dust, hands permanently stained despite repeated washing. He looked up from a ledger as Mimi entered, wariness replacing professional courtesy when she introduced herself.

"A detective? What would you be wanting with an honest chimney sweep?"

"Information about Tommy Calhoun's accident this morning."

Cork's face darkened. "Accident, my eye. That boy's climbed chimneys for two years without a scraped knee." He moved to examine Tommy's equipment, which lay cleaned and organized on the workbench. "This gear was in perfect condition when they left this morning. If someone pushed his ladder..."

Mimi examined the ladder, noting it was intact but showed scuff marks at the base. "Who would have had access to push it while Tommy was working?"

"Anyone in the house or grounds. But Tommy's got good instincts. If he says someone pushed the ladder deliberately, someone did." Cork's expression grew thoughtful. "Past few weeks, he's been asking odd questions about the houses we service. Layouts, which families had servants' passages. Said it helped him plan routes, but seemed like more than professional curiosity."

"What sparked his interest?"

"Said he'd been hearing voices in the walls, people moving in spaces where nobody should be." Cork rubbed his jaw. "Tommy's got good ears. If he says he heard people, he probably did."

Mimi pulled out her notebook. "I need a list of houses where Tommy worked this past month, and any theft reports from those properties."

"Theft?" Cork's voice rose. "You think someone's using my boys as cover?"

"I think when Tommy saw too much, they tried to silence him permanently."

Cork's hands clenched into fists as he moved to his filing cabinet. "Every job's documented here. Names, addresses, dates." He looked up from the papers, eyes hard. "When you find whoever did this, make sure they understand: nobody hurts one of my boys and walks away from it."

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Detective Thibodaux was a man who had learned to navigate the complexities of New Orleans law enforcement through a combination of genuine competence and a perpetually sour disposition toward anyone who complicated his investigations. He possessed the kind of thick mustache and solid build that inspired confidence in conventional citizens, though his tendency to grumble about "meddling civilians" was well-known throughout the precinct.

He looked up from his desk at the Third Precinct station house as Mimi entered, his expression immediately shifting to one of resigned annoyance. The station was busy with the usual afternoon activity: drunks being processed, witnesses giving statements, officers writing reports.

"Miss Delboise," Thibodaux said with a heavy sigh. "What fresh complications are you bringing to my doorstep today?"

"Attempted murder disguised as an accident," she replied, settling into the chair beside his desk without invitation. "And a theft ring operating under cover of legitimate chimney services."

Thibodaux's bushy eyebrows rose skeptically. "That's quite an accusation. I assume you have more than theories to support such claims?"

Mimi spread her notes across his desk, along with Cork's employment records and her interview summaries. "A child witness who can identify one of the perpetrators, a clear pattern of thefts following chimney cleaning services, and evidence of deliberate attempt to silence the witness."

"And the attempted murder?"

"When the boy witnessed their planning, one of them pushed his ladder to make him fall." Mimi leaned forward. "Detective, this isn't some industrial accident. A grown man deliberately tried to injure or kill an eleven-year-old child."

Thibodaux examined her documentation with the careful attention of someone who had learned to take Mimi's investigations seriously, despite his gruff exterior. "These are substantial accusations, Miss Delboise. Do you have any suspects?"

"The boy can identify one of them: a man with a distinctive scar across his left cheek. He's seen him at multiple houses where the crew has worked. And I believe the mastermind is Émile Gautreaux, a former butler who's been systematically working his way through Garden District households."

"A scar, you say?" Thibodaux's interest sharpened. "That's something we can work with. Description like that stands out."

"The child also overheard them discussing something called 'the Bordelon cache.' Someone familiar with the history of these properties and their hidden valuables."

Thibodaux nodded slowly, his grumbling demeanor giving way to professional focus. "All right, Miss Delboise. Against my better judgment, I'll look into this. But if this turns out to be some elaborate theory with no substance..."

"It won't. But I'll need your help tracking down the man with the scar."

"Fine," Thibodaux muttered, gathering her evidence. "Rousseau, send word to the other precincts about this scar-faced fellow. Check with the sergeants who know the dock workers and tavern regulars." He turned to another officer. "Martin, you know the Irish Channel better than anyone. Start asking around the taverns about a man with a distinctive facial scar."

"Yes, sir. Might take a day or two to track him down, but someone will recognize that description."

"We don't have a day or two. That boy's testimony won't stay secret long, and if word gets back to the mastermind..." Thibodaux looked back at Mimi. "And Miss Delboise, we do this properly: police work, not amateur detective adventures."

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Mrs. Beaumont received her in the front parlor, decorated with the expensive restraint that marked old money's distinction from the nouveau riche. A woman of perhaps fifty, her graying hair arranged in a style twenty years out of fashion, she positioned herself beneath a portrait of some long-dead Beaumont patriarch.

"Miss Delboise, I find it extraordinary that a private detective would investigate what was clearly an unfortunate accident."

"The evidence suggests deliberate sabotage, connected to your recent thefts."

Mrs. Beaumont's expression shifted subtly. "I wasn't aware our domestic difficulties were public record."

Mimi consulted her notebook. "Small items missing from households employing chimney services. Your statements to police mention a pearl brooch, silver letter opener, and thirty dollars cash over two months."

"Servants are notoriously light-fingered. An unfortunate reality of household management."

"Have you dismissed any servants recently?"

"We've had the usual turnover. Housemaids who prove unsatisfactory, kitchen help who can't maintain proper standards." Mrs. Beaumont paused, then added with obvious reluctance, "We did dismiss our previous butler several months ago. Émile Gautreaux. He'd been with the family for nearly three years, but we discovered irregularities in his management of household accounts."

Mimi felt pieces clicking into place. "Mrs. Beaumont, when exactly did you dismiss Mr. Gautreaux?"

"Early September. Why do you ask?"

"Because I believe he may be the mastermind behind a systematic theft operation using chimney sweeps as cover." The familiar tingle of connecting evidence struck her. "What sort of irregularities did you discover?"

"Small amounts unaccounted for. Nothing warranting criminal charges, but sufficient to question his trustworthiness." Her tone carried the disdain wealthy people reserved for servants who failed absolute honesty while earning barely subsistence wages.

"Where did Mr. Gautreaux find employment afterward?"

"The Morleys on St. Charles Avenue. I was surprised they hired him after I explained the circumstances."

Access to the mansion's interior revealed elaborate servants' passages connecting different areas: narrow corridors and hidden staircases allowing staff to move unseen by family or guests. The current butler, Harrison, led her through a corridor behind the library.

"These passages connect to the chimney system?"

"Yes, ma'am. Access points near major fireplaces for cleaning and maintenance." Harrison hesitated before continuing. "Mr. Gautreaux was particularly interested in the house's historical construction. Always asking about original builders and architectural features."

"Did he spend much time in these passages?"

"More than seemed necessary. He claimed security duties, but staff saw him in areas that didn't require attention. His interest in walls and architectural details struck us as unusual for a butler."

"During his employment, did you notice correlation between his activities and missing items?"

Harrison's discomfort was evident. "I wouldn't make accusations without proof, but... yes. Items disappeared shortly after he'd worked in those areas."

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How does Gautreaux's butler background connect to the crimes?

Stay tuned for Part 4 of The Chimney Sweep's Tale as Mimi uncovers how a charming former butler has been infiltrating Garden District mansions, and what the mysterious "Bordelon cache" has to do with attempted murder.

Follow all of Mimi Delboise's adventures over at The Elephant Island Chronicles and on Medium