“OK, I’ll see if I can find him. You say he lives in your building?”
“In the basement,” said Diane.
“Well,” said David, after she had hung up with Garnett, “that’s interesting.”
“It is, isn’t it? We’ll see what Garnett comes up with. In the meantime, I was on my way to Aquatics.”
Diane started out the door, then suddenly turned back to David. “I need to find out if there was a mass murder in either Glendale-Marsh, Florida, or Scottsdale, Arizona, in the summer or fall of 1987. The victims may have been wrapped in clear plastic.”
“What’s this about?” asked David. “A new case?”
“Something private I’m working on,” said Diane.
“Will do,” he said.
Diane left the crime lab and went back down to the first floor and across to Aquatics. When she arrived, there was a commotion going on. A thin older woman with tanned leather-looking skin and blond brown hair up in a bun was arguing with a security guard in front of the fish exhibits. Fortunately, there were only a few people in the room.
“I’m not giving you my package, young man. I don’t even know you.”
Diane recognized her voice.
“Ma’am. I just need to look at it.”
“Mrs. Torkel?” said Diane. “Are you Ruby Torkel?”
The woman and the guard turned around at Diane’s voice. The guard looked relieved.
“Yes. And who are you? How do you know my name?” she said.
“I’m Diane Fallon. We talked on the phone yesterday. Did you come all the way from Florida?”
“I’m here, am I not? You said you wanted to see the doll.”
Diane motioned for the guard to leave. “Is that the doll?” asked Diane.
“It’s not my lunch,” she said.
“I didn’t mean for you to have to bring it,” said Diane.
“If I sent it, there’s no telling how long it would take, and I thought, I haven’t seen Juliet in a while, so I’ll just bring it. But this building is so big.”
“Yes, it is. I was on my way to see Juliet myself. She’s probably in the lab.”
“Gramma, is that you?” Juliet had just come out of the shell room into the fish room. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to see you. This woman—Diane Fallon—wants to see that doll.”
“The doll?” said Juliet, looking confused.
“You know, when you were a little girl. The one I took away from you,” said her grandmother.
“You brought it all the way from Florida?” said Juliet. She guided her grandmother out of the way of tourists and toward a corner.
“Of course, from Florida. I didn’t come from Europe. Aren’t you glad to see me?” Juliet’s grandmother said.
“Of course, I am, Gramma.” Juliet gave her grandmother a hug. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. How did you get here?”
“I took a bus. It wasn’t that bad. I slept most of the way. Changing in Atlanta wasn’t fun.”
“Well, I’m glad to see you,” said Juliet. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“Nothing to speak of,” she said.
“Why don’t you take your grandmother to the restaurant?” said Diane.
Juliet nodded. “I’ll do that.”
“First,” said Diane, “I wanted to ask you something. Actually, I came to tell you that I talked with your grandmother and asked her to send the doll. But there is something else I’ve been meaning to ask. When we had dinner the other day you said you are afraid of certain things like new dolls and certain words. What words?”
“It’s silly, really. One of them that absolutely fills me with anxiety is a word I ran into quite by accident in my museum work. It’s the word palim . . . palim . . . I’m sorry, it’s very difficult for me to even say it. It is the word . . . palimpsests. How strange is that?” Juliet laughed nervously.
“Palimpsests? That’s the second time I’ve heard that word lately—where?” said Diane. Then she remembered, that’s why the alliteration of p’s kept tickling her brain. “I remember. The making of palimpsests was possible even with papyri.”
Juliet’s eyes grew round in a look of sheer terror; her face drained of color, she backed up against the wall and screamed before she slid down and held her knees, sobbing.
Chapter 40
“What in the world did you say to her?” said Mrs. Torkel as she hurried over to her granddaughter.
“I’m not sure,” said Diane. She knelt beside the stricken girl, who now seemed to have fallen into a trance or a seizure. “Juliet, can you hear me?” No response. Juliet was breathing very fast.
“My husband, God rest his soul, did this sometimes. It was after the war