I went out to the living room and gave Grandma a call. “Grandma?” I drew in a deep breath before continuing, “Wanda and Stone followed me home.”

  “We’re leaving. That’s it,” Grandma replied.

  “The police have them already in custody. Aaron’s here with me. The police are questioning him at the moment.”

  “Sit down and put on I Love Lucy. We’ll be home soon.”

  “Okay.” We disconnected and I did as told but couldn’t find the Lucy show. I was surfing the channels when Aaron entered.

  “The detectives are just pulling up.”

  “Let them in.” I got up. “I’m putting on a pot of coffee.”

  “Yes, I think it’ll be a long night.” He held me in his arms. “What a mess.”

  “Yes,” I responded. “Now it’s time to catch the killer.”

  “They just did,” Aaron said.

  “Not by a long shot.”

  Chapter twenty-two

  When the neighbors began coming out from their back doors with jackets flung over their shoulders and hurrying toward us, I ushered everyone toward the door. When someone shouted, “Was it the murderers!” and another spectator shouted, “Did they try to kill you?” we rushed inside. I pulled the curtains but noted the squad car was still parked and the attending officer met the detectives as they’d parked and got out of their car.

  “They didn’t ask the right question.”

  “What are you talking about?” Aaron asked. “You don’t make any sense. They just carted away the killers. Now you’re saying they aren’t the killers? Then who are they?”

  “They are Jackie Newell’s employees, hired to get their hands on the dolls and to locate the cufflinks, but Jackie didn’t steal the brooch from the museum.”

  I opened the door to allow the detectives to enter. “We’re having a discussion about the killers. I say that Wanda and Stone aren’t because they didn’t ask the right question.”

  “How do you know that?” Erlandsen asked. He leaned against the kitchen counter. “I don’t understand.”

  “This case has me stymied, I must admit,” Mergens grumbled.

  “You’re not alone on that thought,” Aaron said.

  “Let’s go and sit down in the living room.” Grandma ushered us all to the other room. “Have a seat. I’ll bring out the coffee cups, and we can discuss this whole kit-and-caboodle. It has to be hashed out. That’s all there is to it.”

  “You’re right, Grandma.” I nodded at the detectives. “Sit down and Aaron can bring in more chairs. We have an awful lot to discuss here.”

  “Cookies, anyone?” Grandma asked.

  “We’re just fine, Mrs. Ott. A little confused but nothing else,” Erlandsen said.

  “Don’t tell me this has to do with Dolley Madison,” Mergens said. “It’s over two hundred years ago.”

  “So? There’s plenty in history that’s unanswered to this day. Sit.” I pointed at the sofa. “We’ll get started.” Aaron brought in two chairs. When the men were seated, I said, “Let’s begin with the sampler. The one on the wall. Have either of you two truly looked at it?”

  “I suppose that we may as well start from the top once again,” Erlandsen said.

  Both detectives reached for their notepads.

  “Hold on a minute.” I glanced at Grandpa, who stood. “I’ll be right back.” I watched him go for the wall hanging and set it down on the table between us.

  “Thank you.” I was about to speak when Grandma entered with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and the full coffee cups. She set the tray down beside the framed sampler. “You boys must be hungry. Now, let’s get started. Here,” Grandma spoke to each individual as she passed the cups around. “Now listen to my granddaughter. She makes sense so keep your ears open.”

  “We don’t like chewing our cud more than once, sonny, so remember that.” Grandpa smiled at me.

  “Let’s hear it, Liv,” Erlandsen said.

  “Samplers? This must be what it is,” Mergens said, looking at it. “Go through this all and pretend that we’re kiddies.”

  “Here goes. You see these corner motifs? They mean something—but what? We’re not sure.” I pointed them out. “See? Now why is the flag in this corner? Any idea?” When they both shook their heads, I pointed to the side strawberries. “Thirteen strawberries. Thirteen seeds. What comes to mind?”

  “Thirteen colonies,” Mergens said.

  “Bingo! I think you may have won this round.” I smiled, and they both slightly chuckled. “Also, now look closer you two, the four strawberries along the short side, they have thirteen seeds.”

  “So? Four on either side. Thirteen across the top and bottom.” Mergens scratched his head. “Where’s this getting us?”

  “Moving on. We have also found out something interesting about Alexander Hamilton. His house is in New York City. You must remember who he is?” I glanced at them both.

  “You tell us,” Erlandsen said. “We’ll play along.”

  “He had been the first Secretary of the Treasury and was able to figure out how to tax the republic to pay our debts after the War of Independence. Remember the Whiskey Rebellion?” They looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “It’s time for another history lesson. Hamilton is the person who was shot in the duel with Aaron Burr.”

  “Oh yeah! Now it’s clearer. Go on,” Erlandsen said.

  “I’m sure. Never mind,” Mergens said, grinning. “Go ahead.”

  “The Grange, as Hamilton’s House is referred to, is original as well as standing on its original property. That being said, there’s also a similar patterned sampler hung on a wall inside of the house. The corners are the same except for the odd one. The three corners have a marigold, but the upper left has a rose.”

  “The other three have marigolds? Like this?” Erlandsen sketched a picture on his pad. “It’s odd. You’re right.”

  “There’s more to it than that.” I pulled out my phone and brought up the image of the sampler from Montpelier. “Look. Tell me what you see.”

  “Oh my,” Mergens whispered. “Another one, only not quite the same. Almost exact except for the corners again.”

  “Right. The fourth corner has the tombstone. From what I can tell, it says ‘Polly.’ Why on earth would she have her bird's name put on the tombstone unless she buried the bird there?”

  “We’ve also wondered why the gadroon says, ‘Polly,’” interjected Aaron.

  “I have yet to do much more research because there’s always been something getting in my way, but now that these two thugs are out of the way. Maybe it’s possible.” I slid my phone on the table. “Now you see why we’re curious about Dolley Madison?”

  “The sampler is also from her hand, did you know that?” Grandma asked. “Bet you didn’t.”

  “Nope.” Erlandsen sipped his coffee after eating a bite of his cookie. “Very good.”

  “I knew they’d be appreciated,” Grandma said, smiling.

  “But how does this have anything to do with the murder?” Mergens asked. “Explain this to me. To us. How is it relevant?”

  “The cufflinks,” Grandpa stated. “Think about it. Polly is imprinted around both. Polly? Now the tombstone—Polly? When will it end? All of these coincidences?”

  “All these coincidences will add up to something, but the question is—what?” Aaron replaced his empty cup on the tray.

  “The cufflinks are in the bank and the letter from Dolley bequeathing them to the Putnam family is right beside it,” Grandpa said.

  “You have the original letter, but didn’t tell us?” Erlandsen said, knocking his forehead. “When will this end?”

  “Keep going,” Mergens stated.

  “Montpelier Estate is anxious to get Grandpa’s cufflinks displayed in the museum. They plan to send the historian, Mr. Strowbridge, to fetch them, but he wants to make sure they’re original. The handwriting original, etc. They want us to have our attorney present for the exchange.”

  “I plan to wear them during the wedding ceremony, so it’s a bit dicey,” Aaron said. “We’ll need police backup since I’ll obviously be busy and Tim’s my best man.”

  “Duly noted.” Erlandsen looked at me. “There’s something else, too, isn’t there?”

  “Yes. Besides the Putnam Family Bible, there are also letters here from Dolley.” I gave them a minute to digest all the information. “Don’t you see? It has to add up to the killer?”

  “And the family secret, which Jackie mentioned to Liv,” Aaron said.

  “Ahh, the family secret. Whatever is imprinted on the gadroon will lead us to it. The clues on the sampler, with the cufflinks, must tell us what it is. Don’t you see? The clues are in front of our face, but what is it? That’s the mystery? What are we looking for? That’s what we’re after right now. The gadroon will tell us where it’s located.”

  “That still doesn’t tell us what the secret is,” Erlandsen said.

  “No, it doesn’t. We have to decipher the clues,” Aaron replied.

  “I might be forced to rip off that turban of hers to get to the bottom of this,” I stated.

  “You’ll figure it out, Liv. All in due time.” Grandma looked at me. “I’m sorry for not telling about the bequeath letter sooner, but we didn’t know about the other Dolley letters. I inherited them and they just came into my possession.”

  “I haven’t scratched the surface of reading the letters.” I leaned back and wondered when this would end.

  “Before we leave,” Erlandsen said, “let’s discuss what we do know about Dolley Madison from history. Not a whole lot between all of us.”

  “During the War of 1812, Dolley Madison was left alone in the White House while Mr. Madison, who is the final president to fight in a war during his time in office, was with his troops. The White House was virtually undefended. Dolley would periodically climb on the roof with her telescope to look for British troops. Several times she was told to leave the ‘President’s City’ to avoid being captured. Finally, she entrusted her slave to help her load up all the Federalist Papers and, at the last minute, she made a quick decision to save George Washington’s portrait. It’s believed that is the one on display in the White House. On her way out the door, she made sure that the table was set plus the prepared food was placed on the table. She hoped the British would be in a better temperament if they had a full stomach, but they burned the White House anyway. Dolley barely made it out of the city in time. She sent a letter to her sister. She liked people, had parties called ‘squeezes’ all the time and served good food. People loved her.”

  “We already know this.” Mergens glanced around the room. “What in that leads you to believe that she’s hid something?”

  “A gut feeling plus the known clues.” I clamped my jaw tight.

  “There’s really nothing to go on,” Mergens said. “There’s no firm conclusion that these are clues.”

  “Then why did Stone ask what’s on the brooch?” Aaron asked.

  “This is pie in the sky,” Mergens said.

  “Listen to me, Liv. If there is a killer out there, he’ll slip up and we’ll get him,” Erlandsen said.

  “I’m firm. You don’t have the right people in custody.”

  “As it stands right now, we think we do. We can charge them for assault and hold them until this thing gets figured out.” Erlandsen looked at Aaron. “You are to stay out of this investigation and keep your fiancée out of it too.”

  “Yes, sir.” Aaron looked straight ahead. “It’s clear.”

  “I’ve left a message with Montpelier security, and they’ll get back to me.” Mergens stood. “Tell you what. We’ll dig the best we can into this Madison stuff, or at least I will. It’s outdated by some odd years, but I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

  “We'll continue searching for the suspects. But the cufflinks need to stay in the bank until the wedding. Armed guards will accompany you at all times the day of the ceremony. They’ll be undercover. As far as picking up the estate representative, we’ll take care of that. It’s now top priority. We’ll get the criminals, so don’t worry.” Detective Erlandsen stood.

  “That’s good news.” Aaron stood. “I’ll look after Liv. She won’t leave my side. We’ll stay out of the investigation.”

  “What I would like to know, is who gave us the drinks? How did they know to follow me back to my house? How would they have known that I’d be alone? There’s only one person who comes to mind.”

  “And that’s, who?”

  “Dorrie, but it can’t be proved,” I said. “Also, what’s the motive for Jackie’s murder? Do you have one?”

  “No. Also, we’ll question Dorrie.” Erlandsen shook his head. “Let’s hear what you think.”

  “Greed and money. We don’t know what we’re after, but the killers are definitely greedy. They know there’s a secret, but no one knows what it is,” I said. “However, they have a strong suspicion it’s worth a fortune. I am in agreement.”

  “We’ll keep digging,” Mergens said.

  “Combine the known clues with the gadroon, and we’ll find the secret. I’m positive.” After a moment of silence, I said, “The wedding is one week from now.”

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  Once they’d left, I plunked down into the easy chair and leaned all the way back and shut my eyes. Tears flooded them. My throat hurt. I felt like I’d had the life knocked out of me.

  “Poor dear,” Grandma said. “Let me get a warm washrag for your face and a couple aspirin to take away your pain and discomfort.”

  “I think my granddaughter needs a stiff drink. I’m going to fix a brandy on the rocks. Coming right up,” Grandpa said.

  When they’d left the room, I opened my eyes to Aaron leaning over me and smiled. “Honey, I know after you’re ready, you’ll want to proceed even though we shouldn’t, but it won’t hurt to read the letters. Should I go for the remaining letters?”

  “Yes, but I have to relax and calm down for a little while first.” Aaron covered me with a couch throw. “Thank you.”

  “Now you’re warm and cozy. Safe is also the key word.”

  Grandma and Grandpa returned at almost the same time. I swished down a swallow of brandy and felt warm all over. Grandma handed me a glass of water and two aspirin, but I passed since the brandy already made me comfy. She placed the warm washrag over my forehead and it felt wonderful. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep. About an hour later, I heard voices in the kitchen so I went out to join them.

  “I’m up.” Around the table were the three of them. “What are you guys doing?” I’d noticed the sampler was out of the frame and there was a blown up printed picture of the Hamilton sampler as well as the one from my phone. “Great idea. I presume Aaron thought of making the prints?”

  “Of course!”

  “I still feel weak and a bit out of it. I’d like to resume back in the living room where I have a comfy chair in case I fall asleep again.” We stared at each other. “Did you discover anything odd or different from what we already know?”

  We’d picked up the pictures and the sampler and brought them to the living room, placing them on the coffee table.

  “Aaron, let’s get the magnifier to look at these images,” I said. I held the picture from the Madison Estate up to study it. “I wonder if the strawberries are the same?” Aaron retrieved the magnifier from the desk. “Grandpa, do you remember anyone from your childhood speaking about Dolley or anything else pertaining to the cufflinks?”

  “No, not really.” Grandpa shook his head. “I do remember my aunt Beatrice saying something to the effect of the cufflinks being beautiful. Whether or not it pertained to my cufflinks is debatable. It was so long ago.”

  “It probably did,” Grandma said. “I’m getting hungry and we have work ahead of ourselves. If our Livvie falls asleep, we must continue sifting through the letters and we can lay aside the relevant ones for her to read if that should happen. What should we do?”

  “I’ll order a pizza,” Aaron said.

  I held the magnifier to each of the pictures but didn’t see anything different among them except that one corner. I wasn’t able to count the strawberry seeds because of the blurred imaging. I took a small sip from the remaining brandy. It tasted better because of the melted ice.

  “Let’s get started.” I pulled out a stack of three letters, then set it to the side. “I hope they’ll give us something to go on.”

  “They should. She always wrote letters. There must be volumes of them out there—somewhere,” Aaron said. “Let’s get started.”

  “I agree, but...doggonit.” I shook my head, knowing I wasn’t getting anyplace. “One sentence read ‘brilliant idea, add symbolism,’ and to ‘hide it.’ Another made reference to Polly, who I understand was her parakeet.”

  “Macaw,” Aaron said. “She owned a macaw which is much larger than a parakeet.”

  “That bird’s come up too many times, Olivia.” Grandpa got up and left the room, returning with a cigar. “Puffing on a cigar helps me to think. Aaron, want one?”

  “Sure. I’d never turn one of those down.”

  “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that the number thirteen stands for the colonies. I think we’ve already concluded that, right?” I began reciting the colonies, counting them off with my fingers. “Virginia, Maine... You know? I’m looking them up so I know the order. There’s got to be significance in that.”

  “Love these,” Grandpa said between puffs.

  “That reeks. Can’t you two go into the office?” Grandma pinched her nose. “You’re gonna make me sick.”

  “August?” Aaron started moving to the office. “Coming?”

  “No way. I’m staying. This is getting interesting.” Grandpa smiled. “What’s the fourth state?”

  “Maryland.” I stared at him a minute. “It could be the answer we’re searching for, but the strawberries dance across the sampler. What is that supposed to mean?”

  “One answer leads to more questions. It’s never ending.” Aaron puffed on the cigar.

  “I’m sure glad they don’t smoke those things very often.” I passed out the unread letters, one to each. “Let’s each read one out loud. Grandma, you start.”

 

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