While Nina looked it over, she hurried to her mother’s bedroom and returned with her copy of the inventory. A cross-comparison of the two lists exposed several inconsistencies, aside from a difference in the font used to print the lists. The list found in the cabana appeared to have been composed on an old-fashioned typewriter; the one found in the workshop was laser-printed from a computer word processor.
The fashion doll wasn’t the only doll excluded from the first list. “A china Madame Rohmer wearing a cream dress with blue feathers is also missing,” Gretchen said. “And a French Jumeau Bebe holding a Steiff monkey.” Gretchen continued along the list. “Here’s the Kewpie that Joseph said he purchased through an estate sale.”
Nina shuffled through the photographs. “I found pictures of those three,” she said, holding up the pictures.
“But why aren’t they included in the list from the workshop?” Gretchen said, confused. “Why two different lists?”
“Maybe the second list is a more current inventory,” Nina suggested.
Gretchen shook her head. “If that were true, the dolls’ descriptions missing from the first list would be entered together at the end of the second list. They aren’t. The list is in order by dates of purchase. The French fashion doll was purchased early in her collection. She wouldn’t have forgotten it.” Gretchen laid the two lists side by side. “No. Someone tampered with the first list, the one the police found in the workshop.”
Nina picked up the fashion doll and gently touched the white daisies on her straw hat.
Gretchen found another conflicting entry. “Here’s another one that didn’t appear on the first list. She read the entry out loud.“Jumeau Triste doll, circa. 1875, composition and jointed wood body, real hair wig, thirty-three inches.” She shuffled through the pictures, checking the back of each until she found the matching description. The dark-haired doll with the thick eyebrows must be worth a nice sum, she thought.
“Let’s assume that Nacho planted the parian doll and the inventory list to throw suspicion on my mother,” Gretchen said to Nina. “For some reason he wanted the police to view her as the prime suspect, so he hid the dolls and made an anonymous call to the police.”
“There isn’t any other explanation, since we know she’s innocent,” Nina said.
“Right,” Gretchen said. “And let’s assume that Martha Williams saved her entire collection after all.”
“That’s a stretch,” Nina said. “Look at how she lived. She wouldn’t have lived that way if she had thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of dolls.”
“She would have lived that way if she was emotionally disturbed, and the indications are pretty strong that she had emotional issues. She also had a drinking problem. And she was obsessed with her dolls.”
“Okay, let’s pretend that she managed to keep her dolls when she lost her house. Then what?”
“Nacho knew she had them and wanted to steal them,” Gretchen said. “She was killed for her dolls, not for a bottle of whisky, as he said. And he wanted to frame my mother for Martha’s murder.”
“And the reason for two different lists?”
Gretchen frowned as she stared at one picture after another. The explanation had to be in her hand.
“Because he didn’t want anyone to know about those five dolls.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes, it does. I’m not an appraiser, though. We need to get April over here, but I’m guessing that the dolls excluded from the first list are the most valuable dolls in the collection. Only he doesn’t have those dolls for some reason. Otherwise he’d be gone instead of breaking into collector’s homes. Those dolls are missing. And those are the ones that matter to him. He doesn’t want anyone to know they exist.”
“So Nacho was searching for the French fashion doll and these other dolls you just mentioned.”
“Correct,” Gretchen said. “Is my theory holding together so far?”
Nina nodded, lost in thought.
“Nacho turned himself in for the murder,” Gretchen said. “And since we’re assuming, let’s assume that he did kill Martha. His motive is much greater than he’d like us to believe, but why continue to hide information after he admitted that he killed her? To tell you the truth, even with a recorded confession, I have a hard time accepting his guilt.”
“Why,” Nina asked, slowly, “would he go to all the trouble of planting evidence against Caroline, almost kill Daisy, and then turn himself in?”
“Because he didn’t do it,” Daisy said from the doorway, her head wrapped in bandages and tears in her eyes. “He wouldn’t do it.”
Daisy slumped over the worktable, her head held in her hands as though it was too heavy to carry, and listened silently while Gretchen repeated what she knew of Nacho’s confession and arrest. The dogs wandered in, spotted Daisy, and bounded over, with Wobbles following at a discreet distance.
Daisy perked up at the sight of them and bent to stroke each one.
“Nacho wouldn’t harm Martha,” she said. “He loved her more than anything in the world. Not that she deserved it.”
“How can you be so sure he didn’t kill her?” Nina said.
“Because he’s the gentlest human being I’ve ever known. He helps everybody he meets, and his only problem is his drinking. He speaks all kinds of languages, which is pretty amazing. He’s not so gruff once you get to know him. He wouldn’t hurt a flying cockroach.”
“Maybe he drinks because of that cancerous tumor on his head,” Nina suggested.
“That isn’t cancer,” Daisy said. “He says he’s had it his whole life.”
“Why would Nacho confess to a crime he didn’t commit?” Gretchen asked, lifting each picture and studying it before adding it to a pile on the worktable.
“He’s protecting someone,” Daisy said with confidence, confirming Gretchen’s own suspicions that he was creating a smoke screen. Possibly so the real culprit would remain undiscovered.
Something about the dolls’ pictures bothered Gretchen, tugged at her memory in a disturbing way. What was she missing?
“Have you heard of somebody called the Inspector?” Nina asked Daisy, scooping Nimrod onto her lap. “Martha complained about someone she called the Inspector.”
Daisy waved dismissively. “Martha had names for everyone. She called me Marilyn Monroe because I want to be in the movies.” She knit her brow in concentration. “I don’t remember any Inspector though.”
“Maybe she meant April. She’s an inspector of dolls, if you think about it.” Nina stared into space. “Gretchen, let’s not get April over here to see this collection until we can eliminate her as a suspect. The more I think of it, the more likely it is that April was the Inspector. Are you paying any attention, Gretchen?”
After hearing her name for the second time, Gretchen glanced blankly at Nina. “There’s something about the pictures,” she muttered, tossing those in her hand onto the table. “Something familiar. I’ve seen some of them someplace before.”
“Yes,” Nina said, gesturing to the French fashion doll. “Like this one, for example. And the Kewpie at Joseph’s store. And the one the police hauled away. You have seen some of them.”
Gretchen frowned. Of course, Nina was right.
“We’ve managed to do it again,” Nina announced. “We found more evidence against Caroline, digging her grave by the shovelful. This is one more thing we can’t show to the police because it only proves what they already believe.”
“With friends like us…” Nina said.
“Who needs enemies,” Daisy added, and they finished in synchronization and high-fived each other.
Gretchen stared out the window at Camelback Mountain. She had tentative answers for many of the problems surrounding the death of the alcoholic doll collector. But she didn’t have an explanation for one important question burning in her mind.
Two witnesses saw her mother on the mountain when Martha died.
What was she doing up there?
Nina drove off for a prospective client appointment with all the dogs in tow, leaving Gretchen to ponder the pictures before her in an attempt to find solid answers to fluid questions. Daisy, appearing worn and pallid, shuffled off to her room.
Gretchen rummaged on the lower shelf of the workshop cabinet, removed the doll trunk, and gently reunited the doll with its trunk. She closed the lid as the doorbell rang.
Gretchen smelled Chrome cologne as soon as she opened the door, wondering what bad news the detective
