"I researched the murders on the Internet this morning,"
Caroline said. "It's called parricide when parents are murdered by a child. Except Lizzie was tried and acquitted. Her father was sleeping on a sofa, and her mother was found on the floor in the guest bedroom. Each had sustained multiple blows to the head with a hatchetlike instrument. After viewing photographs on multiple Web sites, I can tell you that Charlie replicated the scene right down to the color of the mohair sofa."
"And we found dolls," April said, "that looked like murder victims."
"Gretchen brought the dolls home," Caroline added.
"One of the male dolls wore a morning coat like the man in the online photographs. One of the female dolls wore a white dress, exactly like the dead Borden woman."
"And," Gretchen added, recalling the smashed-up dolls,
"both dolls had bashed-in heads."
After Gretchen showered, she found Nina and Caroline in the doll repair workshop showing Britt Gleeland some of the work in progress.
Britt greeted her more warmly than she had in the past. Gretchen still had her own reservations about the miniature doll maker. First impressions really were hard to change if they started out wrong.
Nina motioned toward the kitchen, and while Caroline and Britt talked shop, Gretchen followed her aunt.
"I think you saw Matt last night," Nina said slyly, pouring a coffee refill for herself.
"Mom told you."
"She did not."
Gretchen thought of their intimate scene on the patio. She remembered every last detail. "He's a great kisser,"
she said, unable to contain herself any longer. Nina squealed impulsively, then quickly lowered her voice so the others wouldn't hear. "I knew it. Today my antennas are receiving at peak performance. I have to confess, my aura abilities have been misfiring lately, but I'm back on track." She squealed again. "I just knew it."
"Don't get too excited. It was only one little kiss."
Gretchen smiled at Nina. "Or maybe two."
"I won't tell a soul," Nina promised. "My advice is to lay claim to that man as soon as possible. Other women look at him like hungry she-cats. Look what he does to April!"
"Is it a mistake to get involved with him?" Gretchen chewed the inside of her cheek. "He's still married."
"You have the color of love surrounding you. You're positively pink. See what love does?"
"Whoa. Back off. You're moving way too fast. Are you listening to anything I just said?"
"No, I'm not. I'm tickled as pink as you are."
Gretchen appraised Tickled Pink, who actually was wearing pink silk pants and a matching pink top. Nina sat down next to Gretchen at the kitchen table.
"Thanks for telling me about Matt." She gave Gretchen a shy look.
Her aunt had given her the perfect opening. "You know, Nina, I really like April. She offered her friendship to me when I moved to Phoenix, when I didn't know anybody other than you. She made me feel welcome."
"That's right. She did. But then she took over, and all of a sudden, there she was, all the time. I think you prefer her company over mine."
"That isn't true at all. I love you."
"As a relative." Nina managed to make her voice sound dejected.
"No! I love you as a friend. You are absolutely my very best friend."
"Really?"
"Really," Gretchen assured her. "What about Britt? You seem to have found a new friend in her."
"She's really nice. Don't be mad, but I started out being friendly with her to make you jealous."
Gretchen knew exactly what to say next. "Well, it worked. I thought you'd abandoned me."
"Never, dear. We're adults, and I like Britt. You and I should be able to handle other people in other lives without letting it affect our friendship."
Gretchen nodded. Finally! Great words of wisdom.
"There you are." Caroline led Britt into the kitchen and offered her a seat and a cup of coffee. Britt held the box of dolls in her hands. "We were talking about the dolls," Caroline said, pouring coffee, "and thought you'd like to be part of the conversation."
Britt's face was flushed when she said, "I don't understand who would do this to my dolls. Surely not Charlie."
"She created the room boxes," Gretchen replied. "And at least two of them are murder scenes, the one we've identified as Lizzie Borden's home and another one of a backyard where there's blood on the ground and on the steps leading into the building."
"Tell Gretchen what you told me," Caroline said. Britt inhaled, a ragged breath, and blew it out. "Charlie was very specific about the dolls she wanted. I remember her instructions to the letter. One male: tall, thin, white-haired, middle-aged; one female: same age, short, slightly obese."
Gretchen and Caroline exchanged looks. "The Bordens," Caroline said.
"And the other dolls?" Gretchen asked.
"She gave me more leeway. A male with the dignity of the clergy, a woman who would pass as a woman of the street, a choir girl, and the last one."
She glanced up at her waiting audience. "The last one would be male, well-heeled, powerful. And he must, she insisted, have a look of extreme anguish on his face. Other than that, I could sculpt him however I wished."
"A look of anguish?" Nina said, perplexed. "Why?"
"I asked her that. She said it was a surprise." Britt's fingers skimmed across the damage to her dolls. "I wanted to get these back as mementos of my last work for Charlie. But why would I want them like this? This is the only one that is still intact, and look at him!"
Britt held up the male doll she had created for her friend. The excruciating pain on his face was unmistakable.
23
Britt and Nina went off together, leaving Gretchen and her mother alone in the workshop. "I have an idea," Gretchen said, arranging the street signs in a row next to the computer they used for their doll repair business. "Let's search the other signs and see what comes up."
She keyed in one of the addresses. "Twenty-nine Hanbury Street. A London address." The search engine gave her a list of possibilities. She clicked on the first one, while Caroline looked over her shoulder.
"Jack the Ripper's second victim was killed at that address," Gretchen said, not sure whether to be proud of her sleuthing abilities or saddened by Charlie's obsession.
"Look! The dilapidated backyard."
Without a word of explanation, Caroline hurried from the room. Gretchen was about to go after her to see if she had broken down in tears and needed comforting, but she returned as quickly as she left. And she had Britt's dolls in her hands. "This must be the one." She selected the slashed woman. "And the bloody knife must be part of that display."
Gretchen keyed in another address, the one on Elm Street. "Arsenic Anna."
"I'm not familiar with that murder," Caroline said. "Although I've heard the name."
Gretchen read aloud. "In the 1930s, a woman named Anna Marie Hahn posed as a nurse as a way to care for wealthy, elderly men, who had no living relatives. Each of them died from arsenic poisoning. Four in all before she was captured and convicted."
"That's horrible," Caroline said. "And explains the facial features on the male doll. Death by poison."
Again Gretchen entered a street name. De Russey's Lane.
"The Hall-Mills murders," Caroline read over Gretchen's shoulder. "An Episcopal priest and a choir girl were found dead under a crab apple tree. Both had been shot in the head. Torn-up letters were found between them."
"The ripped pieces of paper we put in the unknown pile," Gretchen said.
Caroline held up two more dolls while she read the victims' descriptions. "Eleanor Mills wore a blue dress with red polka dots and black stockings."
The doll was dressed exactly as the description of the poor murdered girl.