A Parliament of Crows by Alan M. Clark Genre: Southern Gothic Crime, Horror
In A Parliament of Crows, the three Mortlow sisters are prominent American educators of the nineteenth century, considered authorities in teaching social graces to young women. They also pursue a career of fraud and murder. Their loyalty to one another and their need to keep their secrets is a bond that tightens with each crime, forcing them closer together and isolating them from the outside world. Their ever tightening triangle suffers from madness, religious zealotry and a sense of duty warped by trauma they experienced as teenagers in Georgia during Sherman’s March to the Sea. As their crimes come back to haunt them and a long history of resentments toward each other boils to the surface, their bond of loyalty begins to fray. Will duty to family hold or will they turn on each other like ravening crows? Add to GoodreadsAmazon * IFD Publishing
Alan M. Clark grew up in Tennessee in a house full of bones and old medical books. As a writer and illustrator, he is the author of sixteen published books, including 11 novels, a lavishly illustrated novella, four collections of fiction, and a nonfiction full-color book of his artwork. His illustrations have appeared in books of fiction, non-fiction, textbooks, young adult fiction and children’s books. Awards for his work include the World Fantasy Award and four Chesley Awards. Mr. Clark’s company, IFD Publishing, has released 42 titles of various editions, including traditional books, both paperback and hardcover, audio books, and ebooks by such authors as F. Paul Wilson, Elizabeth Engstrom, and Jeremy Robert Johnson. Website * Facebook * Facebook * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads
Chapter 1: Vertiline—Loss of Life
Newark, New Jersey 1908
The shame of Vertiline’s incarceration had abated little in the eighteen months since her
arrest. Believing herself nearly helpless against the forces controlling her fate, she expressed the
slight power that remained to her in a simple reminder spoken aloud each morning while sitting
on the bunk in her jail cell: “After what they did during the war, they have no right to judge us.
Maintain a sense of personal dignity, for you are useless to your sisters without it.”
The state of New Jersey had indicted jointly Miss Vertiline Mortlow, sixty-one years of age,
and her fifty-nine-year-old twin sisters, Mrs. Mary Mortlow Sneed, and Mrs. Carolee Mortlow
Marshall. They were charged them with insurance fraud and the murder of Carolee’s daughter,
Orphia Marshall Sneed. The young woman had been found dead in the bathtub of the sisters’
East Orange apartment, lying in a few inches of cold water, her head below the faucet, and her
feet hanging over the back of the tub. Although suspicious, her death was at first seen as suicide.
When Vertiline and her sisters tried to collect on several insurance policies they had taken out on
Orphia, the police began an investigation and the sisters were arrested.
In the long delay before the trial, during which the sisters were kept in separate jail cells, the
twins had perhaps suffered the most. Based on what her attorney said of his visits with them,
Vertiline feared that Mary intentionally starved herself and that Carolee had gone mad from the
isolation.
As the time drew near for the sisters to appear in court, Vertiline felt an unaccountable
excitement despite her dread. After endless days of boredom spent in her lonely cell, she
anticipated that the trial would provide intellectual and emotional stimulation. She hated herself
for looking forward to the event.
On the first day of trial—the first time she’d seen the twins in over a month—while riding in
the police van to the courthouse, Vertiline tried to make eye contact with her sisters. Carolee’s
eyes darted about warily. When spoken to, she appeared startled, even frightened at times. Mary,
her eyes downcast, was emaciated and uncommunicative. She flinched and cringed whenever
Carolee became agitated.
“Are you well?” Vertiline asked them several times in different ways and with increasing
urgency. Their answers held little information.
As the trial commenced in the courtroom with the prosecution presenting its case, Vertiline
struggled to put her fears aside and look for ways to aid in her own defense. Torn between the
urgency of concern for her sisters, and the need to maintain awareness of the proceedings, her
head ached, her heart beat uncomfortably in her chest, and she struggled to take deep breaths.
In defense of her own sanity, her mind turned briefly to pleasant recollection.
~ ~ ~
Vertiline had spent a childhood of privilege in a home on Spring Street in Milledgeville,
Georgia. Having recalled innumerable times the magical summer parties her mother, Abigale
Sobearn Mortlow, hosted in the garden behind the house, Vertiline easily found vivid memories
of the events within her mind. She could see the beautiful guests, their eyes cheerful, movements
graceful and gracious, their clothing exquisite. She heard their happy voices, full of charm and
wit. The exotic decorations and extravagant tables of food and drink were there, filled with
dishes prepared from Ducy’s delicious recipes by the cook. Vertiline could almost taste the
buttered spoonbread, the fried fish, and chess pie. As dusk approached amidst the gentle murmur
of the guests, Abigale move about, a silent white bell in her crinoline, lighting colorful Chinese
paper lanterns strung on cane poles. Lightning bugs rose from the warm earth of the flower beds,
their soft greenish yellow glow competing with the warm flickering orange flames within the
lanterns.
Bitter-sweet, the magic light inevitably faded from the garden with the memory of loosing
Abigale to pneumonia brought on by influenza. Vertiline had been seven years old when her
mother died. For all the crisp memories of the garden parties, her recollections of Abigale had
wilted, her lovely features having faded from memory.
Thankfully, the warmth and love of her father, Georgia Supreme Court Justice Horace G.
Mortlow, always remained in full bloom. Though he had long ago passed away, her memories of
him were clear. He was truly the only authority to whom she must answer. Surely, he would
understand what she and her sisters had done and why, and would not judge them too harshly.
~ ~ ~
Her breath more even, her heart calmed somewhat, Vertiline’s awareness returned to the
courtroom.
The judge, a tall, lean man with a bushy brow named Tolland, spoke from the bench to Mary,
“Mrs. Sneed, please sit upright and show the court due respect.”
Vertiline wanted to say that her sister wasn’t a child to be reprimanded for her behavior, but
held her tongue.
Within moments, Mary had slumped forward in her chair again. Judge Tolland seemed to
notice, but said nothing until her head fell forward, lolling upon the table.
Then discussions began concerning the poor condition of Mrs. Mary Mortlow Sneed, and
Judge Tolland adjourned the trial for the day.
To stave off despair, Vertiline tried to believe in what her father had always called “the hope
of tomorrow.”
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway! a Rafflecopter giveaway
