Word to Death

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Word to Death Page 9

by Barbara Schlichting


  “How interesting.” Mikal furrowed his brow. “I don’t know what to say. What on earth is this all about?”

  “We’re wondering if they are written by the same hand. Maybe we can find samples of letters written by her online somewhere.”

  “First off, we don’t even know if the messages are from her.” Mikal started to tap his cheek in thought. “Can you bring the hatbox lid in tomorrow along with the paper? I’ll be able to tell you if the lettering is of an old style from then nineteenth century.”

  “Sure. I can do that.” I gazed up at the clock. It was already four, and the two cleaning ladies hadn’t returned from their ten-minute break. “How about if I get here a little earlier tomorrow, like nine? Then we can sit without worry of interruptions?”

  “Sounds like a solid plan.” He looked up at the Penny Doll collection. “My mother used to have a few of those. I wonder what happened to them? Probably my sister took them.” He headed for the door and stopped. “Nine tomorrow morning. I’ll bring the coffee, since you’ll have the goods.” He stepped out, closing the door behind him.

  I got up and went toward the back, just in time to see the back door fly open. The two cleaning women staggered inside.

  “You two look three sheets to the wind. Is it really that cold out?” I placed my hands on my hips. “I’m not paying for a two-hour break, you know?” I eyed them closely. “What’s up? Show me what’s done for today.”

  “It’s like this…” Suzy narrowed her eyes at me. “Ruth got sick but is better now.”

  “Show me what you’ve done,” I repeated and stepped aside. Suzy opened the bathroom door, revealing a sparkling clean room. Looking downward, I noticed the shine on the floor. “It looks great. Really, it does.” I’d forgotten how thoroughly the two could clean. Everything glistened and smelled good. “It’s lovely.”

  “Can we come back in the morning to mop the showroom floor?” Suzy asked. “We’re tired. You can bill the temp service for just the two hours today.”

  “Oh, all right.” These two women befuddled me. “Tomorrow at ten. Okay?” I looked Suzy squarely in the eye. “No flask.”

  “What about me?”

  “You, too.” I shook my head at Ruth. “It makes you sick. It wasn’t the smell, Ruth. It was the flask. Got it?”

  “You betcha.”

  Watching them sway to the door, I called out, “Ten o’clock! No flasks!”

  Suzy raised her hand as they stepped outside.

  I went back out to the computer and sat down. After rebooting, I logged into the Mary Todd Lincoln House website and sent a message.

  Frances// Have you heard any news concerning the murder? The detectives had me check the dress hem because it didn’t seem right. I found a snippet of paper inside it. I will slip-stitch it together tonight. It’ll be like it had been. Aaron gave the paper to the police.//Liv

  Next, I searched for the Presidential Lincoln Library in Springfield, Illinois. Eventually, I came to the contact page and clicked on it. I wrote:

  Dear Sir,

  I’m the owner of the White House Dollhouse Store in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Recently, a Mary Lincoln impersonator was scheduled to read from some of her diaries at a nearby antique shop. From her, I’ve learned that there is a newly found letter on display. I wondered if I may have a copy of that letter, if I pay for the copying and postage?

  Also, she mentioned the Lost Speech during the reading time. I had never heard of it until then. Can you tell me more about it? I’d love to know. I’ll give you my address upon your reply to my inquiry. Thank you very much.

  Sincerely, Olivia Reynolds

  Owner and proprietor of the White House Dollhouse Store

  After clicking out of the site, I decided to research the stores where I purchased many of my items for the dollhouses. Were there rose bouquets available that might fit the bedroom decor? Sure enough, there were vases of pink, white, and red roses. I went ahead and ordered a dozen.

  Once logged out, I shut the computer down and prepared to leave for the night.

  “Good night, ladies!” I called.

  After making sure the front door was locked, I grabbed my bag and bundled up. I took one last look in the bathroom and marveled at the cleanliness. I knew the cleaning ladies would be in at ten, and the wood floor would shine like the sun when they finished the job—provided they left their flasks at home.

  After locking the door and stepping out into the back alley, I heard a car engine start. I glanced toward it. Two men sat in the front seat, and I recognized the two women working for Luke in the back seat as they drove past me. The men looked as though they might be from Cambodia as well. Who were they? Shivering, I headed out into the cold. The setting sun made me frown, and I dreaded the long evening without Aaron home. The sun set early this time of year. I couldn’t wait for those nice, easy, lazy days of spring and summer.

  I set off at a brisk pace and wondered what to fix for supper. When the string of lights and large, pudgy snowmen came into view, I knew I was almost home. Within a few minutes, I was in my warm house.

  I removed my outerwear. The doorbell rang as I emptied my jacket pocket into the catchall drawer. No one was at the door when I opened it, but a shipping box was on the step. The delivery truck driver waved as he drove from the curb.

  Excited, I brought the box in, ripped it open, and removed the stuffed bear and set it aside. Left inside the box was a spectacular dollhouse. All of the little pieces were wrapped up, so I decided to wait and unwrap the entire piece once the shelf was in place at the store. After inspecting the house and bear, everything went back into the packing box.

  I spent the evening in front of the TV, eating junk food. With pen in hand, I started a list. Item number one was Holly, for no particular reason except she was young and probably in need of money to pay college loans. However, no one had touched my cashbox drawer. That didn’t seem right, so I crossed her from my list.

  Mikal was in his eighties. He’d never do such a thing.

  Inga had her store, and she was an old friend of Grandma’s.

  Luke? He seemed to do fine with his restaurant, though it was unusual to have so many young Cambodian women coming and going. Surely they couldn’t all be his cousins or his wife’s cousins. Then again, I didn’t know much about Cambodian families or how large they might be.

  And who was the woman in the bottom of my dumpster, and why was she there?

  And what did my store have to do with it?

  My mind spun in circles, but eventually I fell asleep.

  “Hey you, you little monkey,” Aaron said. He flipped back the blankets. “You’re taking up the bed.” Aaron had returned late from practice.

  “You’re the monkey!” I threw a pillow at him. “Teach you a thing or two.”

  “Well, baby girl,” Aaron said. He slipped under the blankets. “Monkey’s don’t wear clothes.”

  Chapter Nine

  Frost hung on the trees that lined the streets on my way to work, and my car trunk was loaded with the box with the stuffed bear and the Lincoln House, as well as the hatbox lid. The snippet of paper was tucked into my bag. Children were climbing into school buses, and I had to stop for a few of them. The stuffed bear had spiked my interest in the Lost Speech again. As I drove up the alleyway and parked, I began to think of it as Mary Lincoln’s puzzle.

  With my hands full, I stepped out of the car. No sooner had I greeted the ladies and carried an extra chair into the showroom, then Mikal came in with two coffees in hand.

  “Thanks.” I took my cup from him and locked the door behind him. “Would you like to sit here or would you rather sit in the workroom?”

  “I like it better here.” Mikal sat down, placing a large hand on his knee as he took a sip of his steaming coffee. “I’m anxious to see all of this.”

  “Yes. Hold on a sec.” I set my cup down, and then went to get the items. “I have Tad’s stuffed toy bear. There’s something on it that I want you to see.”


  “Another mystery?” Mikal’s eyebrows arched. “What is it?”

  “Look at this.” I removed the bear from its box before flipping the bear up to its bottom. Pulling down on a small, attached trapdoor, I said, “See? It looks as if a family tree was embroidered into it. The fabric was cut down, to be sewn so that only this part could be viewed. Does this make any sense? I’m clueless, once again. That woman is an enigma.”

  “She was to just about everyone, even to herself, I believe.” Mikal reached out and said, “May I?” I handed the bear to him. He brought up it to his nose where he drew in a deep breath. “Smells old.”

  “The fabric is, that’s for sure. It’s almost worn thin in spots, also the seams are frazzled. I think it’s preserved only because it was forgotten about. It’s probably been shelved for several years,” I said. “Let’s see here, now.” When Mikal studied the embroidered tree, his eyes glazed over. “Why would a family tree be embroidered on a bear’s butt?”

  “Good question.” I took it from him and set it back inside the box, wrapping paper around it before placing the lid back on it. “Why didn’t Frances say anything about it?”

  “The person you purchased it from?”

  “Yes.”

  “She probably just chalked it up to Mrs. Lincoln’s craziness.”

  “Which may explain everything. Who knows?” I took out the small paper from an envelope and handed it over. “Here’s the message. The staircase is right here.” I turned the lid so he would have a better vantage for study.

  “The upper-case ‘G’ of course isn’t shown on the staircase, but by looking at the flow of the lines, the way the corners and curves of the stairs were made, it seems as if it’s done by the same person, certainly with a similar pen nib and ink. The stopping, starting, lifting of the pen, it all constitutes the seemingly natural flow and rhythm of the one person’s hand.” Mikal looked at me. He always had good advice. Since I was prone to bodies dropping around me, I figured he was good for several more cups of hot chocolate. “I am almost ninety-nine percent positive they are both by the same person. This is all from Mary Lincoln, as far as your knowledge allows you to know?”

  “Yes, most certainly.” I nodded. Setting my coffee cup down, I picked up the message and placed it back inside the envelope before carrying all three items to the workroom. Returning, I asked, “What do you make of it? I can’t tell you too much because of the ongoing investigation, and you have to promise not to tell anyone about it, at least for now.”

  “It certainly is intriguing.” Mikal sighed. “Mum’s the word.” He pinched his fingers together and drew a line across his lips as if to zip them shut.

  “Good.” I finished my coffee and tossed the cup into the garbage bin. “I’m calling it the Mary Lincoln puzzle.”

  “Well…she was a puzzle.” He shook his head. Glancing at the clock, he said, “Time for me to go. I’ve got a client due at any time.”

  After Mikal left, I gave Inga a call, but she didn’t answer. I left a phone message, and then turned on the computer only to get that humming noise again. I was logging into my files when the back door opened.

  “Hello,” I called.

  “Only me.” Max clopped inside the hallway, stopping at the doorway. “I will be gone all day for personal business.”

  “Anything I need to know about?”

  “Nope. The security folks have been here and gone. The back door should be better secured now.”

  “I hadn’t noticed. What did they do?”

  “They put in a more advanced electronic strip around the frame. The other one wasn’t made for such extreme temperatures. It was a little outdated.”

  “Oh. Okay. Thanks. The cleaning ladies will soon be here. Let’s leave it open for them.”

  “Sure. Have a good one.” After he walked to the door, I heard him holler, “Stay out of the dumpster. Any garbage, let me take care of it.” He opened and closed the door.

  “Thanks for the advice.” I called to the empty room. I didn’t like being alone. Winter days such as this made me wonder if hiring another employee might be worthwhile just to keep me company. However, Max always seemed to do fine in here without me, and so did Grandma. Between the two, they managed to run the store when Aaron and I were on our honeymoon and occasional overnight trips since then.

  The e-mail file from my website popped up as the back door opened once again. When Suzy loudly said, “Ja, ja,” I got up and went out to meet the cleaning ladies.

  “All set.” Suzy stood holding a dust mop and grinning. Her gold tooth sparkled as the overhead lighting hit it just right.

  “This here’s a wet mop. It’ll use just a little bit of water with a little bit of wax.” Ruth stood straight, but she suddenly began to sway. I had to look away. Had they been drinking already?

  “Let me take your flasks.” I held out my hand. “Now. Or else you won’t get paid.” Fortunately, they did as told. “Get the wood floor done right away, so it’ll dry.”

  “Right.”

  “You betcha.”

  They both “huffed” when I turned my back. I could almost feel their eyes shoot glances like daggers into me. Should they be reported? After double-checking the front door, I logged out from my computer file and went to the back workroom. No sooner were the items sorted than Inga called. I’m sure she did a couple of jumping jacks after I told her the news about the antique bear. The store was quiet and still, so I walked to the showroom entrance to check on the two cleaning ladies. No one was in the room, but it looked absolutely gorgeous. Standing with my mouth hanging open and my eyes opened wider, I gushed, “Wow,” and jumped as the door behind me closed.

  “You betcha,” Suzy said.

  “Ja, ya know.” Ruth nodded.

  Both stood grinning without pails or mops. They could’ve cleaned from the front of the store toward the back, but instead they must have gone out the front only to return through the back door.

  “Why come through the back door?”

  “We didn’t want to track snow all over the beautiful floor, now did we?” Suzy said with her hands on hips.

  “We don’t want to make a mess, you know?” Ruth shook her head.

  “Guess not.” I had all I could do not to curl up from laughter. “Thank you for being so conscientious.”

  “Whatever that means.” Ruth held out her hand. “Now, may I have my flask?”

  “Ja, me too.”

  “Sure. Wait a minute.” I went into the workroom, returning with both flasks. “Here.” I gave them back. “I still pay the temp service, don’t I?” I wondered if their boss should know about the ladies’ drinking. They did such a nice job, but I could tell that the alcohol abuse was starting to become a problem.

  “Ja. They pay us.” Suzy nodded and turned toward the door. “Ruth?”

  “You betcha.”

  I shook my head in disbelief as they walked out the door. How could two women drink so much and still be recommended? I heaved a sigh, then picked up the phone to call the temporary agency that sent them. A woman answered. I proceeded to explain the situation, but I also gave the two five stars for their excellent cleaning.

  Before disconnecting, she said, “Everyone says the same, which is why they’ve been kept on. No one cleans as well. So, what do you want? A clean shop or a semi-clean shop? Those are your choices.”

  I slumped down into the chair and thought about that. “Clean shop.” I disconnected, hoping that I said the right thing.

  I logged back into my website and checked messages. There were two more pertaining to the Lost Speech.

  The first read:

  Lost?? Hmm…look up the word in the dictionary.//

  John

  I responded:

  John, Thank you. I think I’ll look it up.//Liv The second read: Did he stuff it in his stove pipe hat?//Beth I responded: Beth, Didn’t think of that, but a great idea.//Liv

  Just as I was about to log out of the site, a third message popped
up.

  It read:

  What was lost will be found.

  I responded:

  Let’s hope.//Liv

  The return address looked different from the final message, which was perplexing. It was unrecognizable. Was it from a foreign country? I forwarded the three messages to my personal e-mail account before logging from the site. In my personal account there were several messages, mostly from Maggie. She was asking about the message we found in the hem of the dress and also wanted to know what I had planned for the evening, since Aaron would be working late.

  I messaged a return:

  Maggie//Mikal studied and compared the message from the dress and the staircase, deeming them to be written by the same hand. Another interesting item is the bear. Tad’s stuffed toy bear. It has a trapdoor, like in long underwear, but there is an embroidered family tree under the fabric flap. It’s deeply puzzling, don’t you think? How about a movie tonight? Meet you at the Riverview for first showing.//Liv

  After sending the message, I opened the Lincoln file and filed Maggie’s sent message plus the forwarded messages in it. The next e-mail of interest was from the Lincoln Library, in reply to my recent message requesting a copy or a scanned attachment of the newly found Mary Lincoln letter. The message read:

  Dear Mrs. Reynolds,

  The requested letter is unavailable at this time as we are still testing its authenticity. Please accept my sincerest apologies, but it will be posted soon on our website.

  Dr. James Wordsworth.

  Not wanting to sound ungracious, I replied:

  Dear Dr. Wordsworth, Thank you for the response. Mrs. Reynolds

  I hit “send,” leaving the file open for further reading. It was already past lunchtime. I thought about dashing to the Brew Café. “Ladies, it’s lunchtime,” I said to the dolls. At the same moment, the front door opened, sending in a gust of cold air into the room.

  “Had lunch?” Inga burst in, carrying two bags. “Got us each a bowl of chili. Sounds good, doesn’t it?” Shivering, she said, “Yikes. When will summer come?”

  “Not soon enough. I’ll fetch you a chair.” I hurried to the workroom to get the chair Mikal had used. “Have a seat.” I set the chair down beside the checkout counter. Why was she reading my messages?

 

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