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.Two girls about the ages of nine and seven jumped out of the car, tugging school bags out of the van as they did so.Ellie moved closer.They stopped in their tracks when they saw her, curiosity plain on their faces.“Hi, I’m Detective Cooper.I’m looking for your dad.”“He’s at work,” the girls replied together, then turned to glare at each other.“She asked me,” the older one whined.“No, she asked me,” the younger one yelled back.“Girls, enough.”Once again, the children fell silent, their eyes lowered.The woman Ellie assumed to be their mother rounded the back of the van.She stuck out her hand.“I’m Michelle Wilson.I’m sorry about my daughters.They know better than that.Now, what were you saying about my husband?”Michelle Wilson’s eyes were a pale blue; her face was open and kind.White-blond hair hung down her back in a casual ponytail.Ellie guessed she was in her mid-thirties.She took the hand the woman proffered and shook it.“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Wilson.” She glanced toward the children.“You have them well trained.I’m impressed.”The woman’s eyes crinkled in a smile.“Not without a lot of effort.”Ellie smiled back.“I’m sure.Look, I’m making some enquires about men in your neighborhood who are employed by the Orange Cab Company.Your husband works there, doesn’t he?” Ellie watched her closely, but the calm expression in the pale blue eyes didn’t falter.“Yes, yes he does.He’s been there for years.He loves that job.”“I take it he’s not home at the moment?”“No, no, he’s at work.He’s working the late shift tonight.”Retrieving her notebook and pen from the pocket of her jacket, Ellie jotted down a few notes.“What time did he start?”“Mm, let me think.He started at three o’clock and goes through to about three in the morning.” She grinned and shook her head.“I’m usually asleep in bed.Most times I don’t even hear him come in.”Ellie kept her voice casual when she posed the next question.“It looks like he does some wood working in his spare time.” She inclined her head toward the shed.“I saw some tools on a workbench through the window.”Michelle smiled again.“I don’t know where he finds the energy or the time.He only has the weekends off.He spends hours in that shed.He loves being in there almost as much as he loves his job.”Ellie’s heart skipped a beat.“What does he do in there?”The smile turned into an outright chuckle.“You’re not going to believe it, Detective, but he makes dolls.”“Dolls?”“Yes, wooden dolls.He carves them by hand.He paints all of their features and sews their clothes.Tiny dresses and shoes.Hair ribbons to match.They are magnificent.”Disappointment surged through her.Lex Wilson hardly sounded like a serial killer.Still, he was worth talking to.Who knew—he might have seen something.“What time does your husband go to work tomorrow?”“Oh, not until the afternoon again.He usually sleeps for a few hours after he gets in and then potters around in the shed until it’s time to go.”Pulling a card out of her wallet, Ellie handed it to the woman.“Here are my numbers.Please, ask him to give me a call when he’s free.I would like to speak with him.”Michelle’s eyes clouded over.Her face turned serious.“Of course, Detective.Is there anything the matter?”“No, no.It’s nothing to worry about.We’re doing some routine questioning.That’s all.”The woman still looked doubtful, but slid the card into her handbag.Ellie looked up at the darkening sky and tossed her notebook and pen back into her pocket.“Thank you for speaking with me, Mrs Wilson.I would appreciate it if you could let your husband know I was here.”“Of course, of course.”Ellie made her way down the driveway.About half way down, she turned back as another thought occurred to her.“What does he do with them?”Michelle’s brow furrowed in confusion.“The dolls,” Ellie added.“What does he do with them?”A wide smile lit up the woman’s face.“Why, he gives them to me, of course.And I sell them at the markets.” She inclined her head toward the vehicle in the carport.“That’s why I have the van.”CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOEllie slumped back against the car seat and sighed in disappointment.Okay, so maybe the killer wasn’t on her list.With only so much manpower available, she knew there were still at least fifteen or so names that hadn’t been allocated.Maybe tomorrow they’d get lucky.With another sigh, she switched on the ignition and pulled away from the house.She should have known just by looking at it that it wasn’t the house of a madman.The neat lawns, the gaily colored flowers, the stern but friendly wife, the bickering kids.It all seemed too normal.As she negotiated the late-afternoon traffic, her thoughts wandered to the shed.A taxi-driving doll maker.Who’d have thought? He made them; she sold them.Then a memory hit her and her foot slammed on the brake.Michelle Wilson, the owner of the white van.The van Ronald Carter had seen in the laneway beside his house right after his freezer went missing.A chest freezer.Like the ones she’d seen in Lex Wilson’s shed.But why the hell would Michelle Wilson be stealing chest freezers? It didn’t make sense.The woman didn’t seem to have a deceitful bone in her body.Could she have been lying? Ellie immediately discounted that.She considered herself to be a pretty decent judge of character and she’d have sworn Michelle was exactly what she appeared to be—a busy mother trying to raise two rambunctious children and doing her bit to support her family.Could her husband have used the van? He worked with wood.She’d seen wood shavings piled on the end of the workbench.Wood shavings had been found in Josie Ward’s hair and underneath Angelina Caruso’s fingernails.Her mind drifted to the paint tin.It was probably used to paint the dolls.In the dimness, she hadn’t been able to tell what color it was, but she suddenly recalled the pink paint chips that had been found in Angelina’s hair.The impatient beep of a horn behind her reminded her she’d slowed almost to a stop.Adrenaline surged through her and she pumped the accelerator.The peculiarities were piling up [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.Two girls about the ages of nine and seven jumped out of the car, tugging school bags out of the van as they did so.Ellie moved closer.They stopped in their tracks when they saw her, curiosity plain on their faces.“Hi, I’m Detective Cooper.I’m looking for your dad.”“He’s at work,” the girls replied together, then turned to glare at each other.“She asked me,” the older one whined.“No, she asked me,” the younger one yelled back.“Girls, enough.”Once again, the children fell silent, their eyes lowered.The woman Ellie assumed to be their mother rounded the back of the van.She stuck out her hand.“I’m Michelle Wilson.I’m sorry about my daughters.They know better than that.Now, what were you saying about my husband?”Michelle Wilson’s eyes were a pale blue; her face was open and kind.White-blond hair hung down her back in a casual ponytail.Ellie guessed she was in her mid-thirties.She took the hand the woman proffered and shook it.“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Wilson.” She glanced toward the children.“You have them well trained.I’m impressed.”The woman’s eyes crinkled in a smile.“Not without a lot of effort.”Ellie smiled back.“I’m sure.Look, I’m making some enquires about men in your neighborhood who are employed by the Orange Cab Company.Your husband works there, doesn’t he?” Ellie watched her closely, but the calm expression in the pale blue eyes didn’t falter.“Yes, yes he does.He’s been there for years.He loves that job.”“I take it he’s not home at the moment?”“No, no, he’s at work.He’s working the late shift tonight.”Retrieving her notebook and pen from the pocket of her jacket, Ellie jotted down a few notes.“What time did he start?”“Mm, let me think.He started at three o’clock and goes through to about three in the morning.” She grinned and shook her head.“I’m usually asleep in bed.Most times I don’t even hear him come in.”Ellie kept her voice casual when she posed the next question.“It looks like he does some wood working in his spare time.” She inclined her head toward the shed.“I saw some tools on a workbench through the window.”Michelle smiled again.“I don’t know where he finds the energy or the time.He only has the weekends off.He spends hours in that shed.He loves being in there almost as much as he loves his job.”Ellie’s heart skipped a beat.“What does he do in there?”The smile turned into an outright chuckle.“You’re not going to believe it, Detective, but he makes dolls.”“Dolls?”“Yes, wooden dolls.He carves them by hand.He paints all of their features and sews their clothes.Tiny dresses and shoes.Hair ribbons to match.They are magnificent.”Disappointment surged through her.Lex Wilson hardly sounded like a serial killer.Still, he was worth talking to.Who knew—he might have seen something.“What time does your husband go to work tomorrow?”“Oh, not until the afternoon again.He usually sleeps for a few hours after he gets in and then potters around in the shed until it’s time to go.”Pulling a card out of her wallet, Ellie handed it to the woman.“Here are my numbers.Please, ask him to give me a call when he’s free.I would like to speak with him.”Michelle’s eyes clouded over.Her face turned serious.“Of course, Detective.Is there anything the matter?”“No, no.It’s nothing to worry about.We’re doing some routine questioning.That’s all.”The woman still looked doubtful, but slid the card into her handbag.Ellie looked up at the darkening sky and tossed her notebook and pen back into her pocket.“Thank you for speaking with me, Mrs Wilson.I would appreciate it if you could let your husband know I was here.”“Of course, of course.”Ellie made her way down the driveway.About half way down, she turned back as another thought occurred to her.“What does he do with them?”Michelle’s brow furrowed in confusion.“The dolls,” Ellie added.“What does he do with them?”A wide smile lit up the woman’s face.“Why, he gives them to me, of course.And I sell them at the markets.” She inclined her head toward the vehicle in the carport.“That’s why I have the van.”CHAPTER TWENTY-TWOEllie slumped back against the car seat and sighed in disappointment.Okay, so maybe the killer wasn’t on her list.With only so much manpower available, she knew there were still at least fifteen or so names that hadn’t been allocated.Maybe tomorrow they’d get lucky.With another sigh, she switched on the ignition and pulled away from the house.She should have known just by looking at it that it wasn’t the house of a madman.The neat lawns, the gaily colored flowers, the stern but friendly wife, the bickering kids.It all seemed too normal.As she negotiated the late-afternoon traffic, her thoughts wandered to the shed.A taxi-driving doll maker.Who’d have thought? He made them; she sold them.Then a memory hit her and her foot slammed on the brake.Michelle Wilson, the owner of the white van.The van Ronald Carter had seen in the laneway beside his house right after his freezer went missing.A chest freezer.Like the ones she’d seen in Lex Wilson’s shed.But why the hell would Michelle Wilson be stealing chest freezers? It didn’t make sense.The woman didn’t seem to have a deceitful bone in her body.Could she have been lying? Ellie immediately discounted that.She considered herself to be a pretty decent judge of character and she’d have sworn Michelle was exactly what she appeared to be—a busy mother trying to raise two rambunctious children and doing her bit to support her family.Could her husband have used the van? He worked with wood.She’d seen wood shavings piled on the end of the workbench.Wood shavings had been found in Josie Ward’s hair and underneath Angelina Caruso’s fingernails.Her mind drifted to the paint tin.It was probably used to paint the dolls.In the dimness, she hadn’t been able to tell what color it was, but she suddenly recalled the pink paint chips that had been found in Angelina’s hair.The impatient beep of a horn behind her reminded her she’d slowed almost to a stop.Adrenaline surged through her and she pumped the accelerator.The peculiarities were piling up [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]