Full Body Chills - Madam Alberte

Episode Date: October 6, 2020

This is a story about a sweet old neighbor taken in by police for a crime no one understands.Madam Albertewritten by: Caroline ZiemkiewiczYou can read the original story at FullBodyChillsPodcast.com Looking for more chills? Follow Full Body Chills on Instagram @fullbodychillspod. Full Body Chills is an audiochuck production. Instagram: @audiochuckTwitter: @audiochuckFacebook: /audiochuckllcTikTok: @audiochuck

Hi listeners, this is Ashley Flowers, and I have a story I want to tell you. A story about a sweet old neighbor taken in by police for a crime no one understands. So gather round, and listen close. My roommate just called me and said the police arrested Madam Albert. I don't understand what could drive the police to arrest and take a 70-something-year-old woman into custody? I mean, come on. Marianne, my roommate, and forever pain in the ass, had no more information to give me.

So thanks, Marianne. Now I'm going to be thinking about this until there are answers, which could be in a week, a month. Who knows? Madame Albert has been a staple in our lives for a while. She often jokes that she's the witch of the neighborhood because she's old and has a lot of gray hair, which is not always perfectly kept, let's be honest.

And she also cooks a lot, but not kids, she would joke. And she has two black cats. One of them, Milo, is perfectly black. The other one, Esther, is mostly black, but she has a few white whiskers and a white spot on her chin. And she also hates me for whatever reason. I'm not a cat psychologist, but she's probably jealous because Milo adores me and ignores her. I'm going to have to figure out if someone is going to take care of them. I don't know if I can call the station. I don't even know where they took her, though. I just can't even wrap my brain around this.

What did Madam Albert do? I mean, this has to be some kind of mistake. Ever since Marianne and I moved into the same building, she was always very sweet to us. Well, I guess always isn't the best choice of words. She was kind of mean at first, but not always to our face. When she was pissed, she often slurred her curse words in French. You know, weird is a French immigrant town, so I was quick to pick up on a few of those. She was worried that two students moving upstairs would be the death of her, that it would mean parties every night, the clicking clacking of heels on the wood floors at midnight, fights,

broken glasses, water damage issues, and different boys every day and night coming and going. And I'm not making this stuff up, she told us. Joke's on her, though, because Marianne and I must be the chillest students on the planet. First, we're too broke to have any fancy heels to clickety-clack in, nor would we want to. We're more the sneaker-type girls. As for boys, well, not gonna lie, there have been a few boys during the year that we've been neighbors with Madame Albert, but nothing crazy. And when she figured out that we weren't the devil, she actually loved hearing our boys' stories. She often imparted on us her wisdom about love, dating, and marriage. I should write a book. It's going to be a bestseller, and the title will

be How to Keep a Husband According to Madam Albert. It was actually a delight to listen to her ramble about husbands and how to keep them. On the one hand, she had views kind of appropriate for her age. You should cook and clean and do his laundry. Marianne rolled her eyes so hard that time. You should listen to him, engage in conversation if he feels inclined to, and learn when to shut up when he wants to be left alone. And that one left Marianne and me speechless.

But then, Madame Albert carried on to explain that in bed, though, he should please you first, and that you ladies should teach all the men you sleep with about the female body. She'd say, see, I taught my husband and he was a great student. Then she'd inhale and exhale slowly. That is how she is. The modern woman meets the 50s wifey. With all that sex she had with her husband, she only had one son. But she told us that she always wanted a girl. Well, actually, she told us she wanted tons of kids, but fate decided otherwise.

Actually, funny story with her son Antoine. A few months after we moved in, she actually tried to set us up on a date. I was seeing someone at the time, and Antoine also had a girlfriend. As a matter of fact, I think he's been with her for quite some time, but as I recall, Madame Albert vehemently hated her, though I'm not exactly sure why, and I don't really want to find out. I saw this date meant so much to her, so I accepted, and I even convinced Antoine via text to just play along. We went out for pizza, chatted for a bit, and then called it a night. We agreed on what we were going to tell his mother, something about us just not having much in common, yada yada yada. We still laugh about it when we run into each other. He told me once that his girlfriend didn't think us going on a fake date was so funny, and in hindsight, maybe

it was a little inconsiderate of us but madam albert was so happy we went i mean she was a bit disappointed when things you know didn't work out though i think she felt listened to and that had to feel good she's lived alone since her husband passed and since then she sold their home and moved to Weird, so I doubt she has many friends here. I might be her first. To thank me, kind of, she started bringing us tons of food. Marianne was elated, first because how long can you really survive on microwavable food, and second because it was a huge relief on our budget.

Marianne even jokes that I should have married the son and we'd be set for life. But no, dude, even if the stars aligned or something, I still wouldn't date him. I mean, don't get me wrong, he seems smart and all and raised right, kudos to Madame Albert. But the spark just wasn't there. Either way, every week we were getting new dishes,

salty pies, sweet pies, meat pies. I mean, things I can't even pronounce because they were so fancy and French and decadent. I mean, we're talking potatoes and cream, butter and cheese. I'm going to have to ask her to make me another pie once she's here and things are all sorted out. I love how she just brings us food. She's not even asking what we want. She just makes something for herself times three. And we tried giving her money for groceries, but she never wanted it.

And believe me, I'm not saying this to make us look good, but we even tried to sneak money to her once, but she returned it the day after and made us swear not to pull that crap again. I want to call Marianne to see if there are any updates, but I mean, I guess if she had any, she would have reached out right away. But I'm getting really worried. Madam Albert has to be okay. I mean, I've grown so fond of her. I never knew my maternal grandma, and my paternal grandma doesn't really act like a grandma at all, because I don't think she cares to be one. So I'm glad I have Madame Albert. I think she feels the same way about Marianne and me.

She mentions often how proud she is of her son, but that the relationship between mother and daughter is just so different, she says. And once Antoine left to live his life, she couldn't bear to be alone with her husband. Not that he was an awful man or anything. She always insisted that he was a good man, but he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed. She wanted to talk politics, literature. She wanted to learn how to use her iPhone correctly, and she even wanted to get some Snapchat action. But she couldn't have any of those conversations with her husband. She tells us that the two things he lived for

was the PSG soccer team and weekend barbecues with their friends. Well, that and their son. Antoine and his father were as different as they come, but inseparable. His death was very hard on Antoine. After his passing, he and Madame Albert kind of grew distant, literally and figuratively.

Ever since then, she's really only had the cats to keep her company. God, I really wish I knew what was going on. You know what? I'll just call Antoine. He has to know something. We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Oh, thank God. Marianne's calling. The voice on the other end of the line wasn't Marianne. Hi, is this Amy, Marianne's roommate? Yes, I replied.

The person on the other line proceeded to tell me that she's a nurse at St. Augury's Hospital, and I needed to come right away because I'm listed as Marianne's emergency contact, and she had some kind of, like, breakdown. And we're talking Marianne, the most stable person I know, having a mental breakdown. So immediately, I'm like flying down the staircase, jumping into my car and driving to the hospital like a maniac. And my thoughts are almost completely incoherent. When I get there, they show me to Marianne's room. And they tell me that she's

heavily sedated, but she is conscious. When I walk up to her and our eyes meet, my first words are, what the hell is going on? But she just shakes her head. I can see that her hands are shaking too, even with the sedation. I take them into my own and I sit down next to her. What's going on? What are you doing here? What happened? And what she told me. I mean, this is one of those stories. The ones you think happen in movies, TV shows, books. They're the stuff of urban legends and creepy YouTube videos.

Marianne tells me the story of why Madam Albert has been arrested. And I listen, and it seems like a dream. Or like a nightmare, rather. Her son and his girlfriend had been missing for a few months now. We knew nothing of this. Apparently, they were thought to have just left everything behind because of how Madam Albert was treating the girlfriend. But they didn't leave.

Police arrested Madam Albert because they know she killed them. And cooked them into pies. This series was produced by Ashley Flowers and David Flowers. This episode was written by Caroline Jemkovic and read by Ashley Flowers. This story was modified slightly for audio retelling, but you can find the original in full on our website. Full Body Chills is an AudioChuck production. So, what do you think, Chuck? Do you approve?