41
As the partygoers flooded around her, Molly scanned each face for Ava. None of them was hers.
Pushing against the stream of eager guests, she stumbled outside, dread sluicing through her brain—what if she was already too late?
Shoving through the crowds and into the garden, she quickened her step. There was only one place her aunt might still be. One place the doctor couldn’t enter.
The house was eerily quiet.
Molly’s breath came in short, quick gasps as she made her way up the stairs, nerves and fatigue mixing in equal measures. She clung to the image of the key tied constantly around Ava’s neck, its pretty velvet ribbon like a charm against bad luck.
At the top of the stairs, she paused, searching the hallway.
It was empty.
The tick of the pendulum clock pulsed, throbbing in time to the dull beating of her own heart.
As she passed her own room, Molly saw the remnants of her dinner remained.
The dirtied plates sent a chill down her spine.
Ava’s house ran like clockwork. If such a mess had been allowed to remain, it was intentional—someone had told the servants to stay away.
A few more steps, and she was at Ava’s door.
Hesitating, she raised a hand, then paused. The silence was palpable.
Steeling herself, she knocked.
The door flew open almost immediately, and Molly gasped in relief at the sight of her aunt standing there, screwing an earring into one ear, perfectly alive.
Ava wore a gown that Molly had never seen before, its red an exact match to the doctor’s suit. Behind her, fire in a gray stone hearth lit her profile, turning the velvet the color of blood.
“Molly.” Her aunt’s face puckered in surprise.
The words poured out in a rush as she grabbed Ava’s hand. “We have to leave! Dr. LaValle. He—”
“Slow down.” Ava took a step into the hallway and looked up and down in both directions before pulling Molly into her room for the first time.
It was nothing like she’d imagined.
Whereas the rest of the house was impeccably decorated, this room was practically bare. A small bed rested beside the lit fireplace with a simple wood chair at its foot. And there was a plain dresser and mirror not much better in quality than the one she and Ma had shared at their old farmhouse.
The only other furniture was a large mahogany table, big enough for a dining room, but cluttered with books, bottles, and other detritus. The materials looked like they’d been shoved aside to clear a long space in its middle.
“Not what you were expecting?” Ava’s tone held a hint of amusement.
Something about the table niggled at Molly, a single hair out of place on a carefully brushed head, but amidst the clutter she could not place it.
“It smells like peppermint in here,” she said, surprised. The mint scent was so overwhelming that it was impossible to focus on anything else.
Ava gently took Molly’s arm. “Tell me what’s the matter.”
Molly shook her head, as if to clear it. “Dr. LaValle—he tried to kill a girl tonight. A friend of mine.”
“Ginny.”
Molly’s throat went dry. “How did you know?”
“You said ‘tried,’ ” Ava said. “She’s not dead?”
Molly’s eyes finally fixed on the object on the table that had been bothering her—a large box. Made of yellow cardboard, with the picture of a rat on its side.
Arsenic.
The bloated rat, rising from the candy bowl . . .
Ava grabbed Molly’s shoulders and shook. “Tell me! Is she dead?”
Beside the box rested a bag of sugar.
Her aunt had been making candy—peppermints.
Molly stumbled backward, understanding lighting her face. “It was you!”
Ava’s eyes grew pained as she reached for Molly. “It’s not what you think. Let me explain.”
“You brought her.” She thought of Ginny’s quick hands as she took Molly’s dress measurements, her keen eye for Ava’s fashion taste.
You have the most beautiful skin.
“You were her client.”
“I didn’t know the dressmaker’s girl was your friend.”
Molly’s entire body vibrated with betrayal. She shut her eyes.
Ava had poisoned Ginny.
“How many have there been?” She thought of her aunt handing out the candy at the soup kitchen, to the children at the orphanage, Sophie’s body on the operating table, and the sweet smell of peppermint everywhere.
“Be reasonable, Molly. I was helping them. Granting them reprieve from the ugly lives they lived.”
Molly stared in disbelief. “Ginny is the happiest person I’ve ever known.”
Ava’s face wrinkled in genuine pain, and again she reached for Molly. “I’m sorry about your friend. The doctor needed a body tonight, a special one. I tried to give you a chance to get one, but when you didn’t . . . there was no choice. Ginny was the best that I could do on such short notice.”
“No.” Molly backed away, her hip hitting the candy-making table and sending a shooting pain up her side. “But it’s LaValle killing women. He’s the Knifeman.”
To her astonishment, Ava laughed. “There is no Knifeman.”
“But . . . all those bodies.”
“Those were simply corpses that didn’t meet our standards to sell or use for the classroom,” Ava said, waving her hand dismissively. “You know LaValle and I only provide the best specimens.”
“The police, the papers,” Molly said. “All of them said there was a madman hunting women for sport!”
“Brilliant, wasn’t it?” Ava said. “You see, those silly Corpse Queen rumors were growing problematic. As LaValle and I expanded our export business farther west, we needed more and more fresh bodies to fill the orders. I started handing out my special peppermints at the soup kitchens and charities to those who were already sick or had particularly intriguing qualities. We were finally able to keep up with demand.” She frowned. “Unfortunately, the damned police started poking around.”
The red of her aunt’s dress seemed to flicker in the flames. “So I gave them something else to chase. Pretty dead girls are very good distractions. I used my knife just as a madman might, choosing girls from my castoffs who might appeal to one. Afterward, I scattered their corpses all over the city for the police to find, making sure a few could be identified as girls who’d been reported missing. Those bodies were gruesome. Hideously mutilated and dismembered. The police could never fathom a woman capable of such violence, especially not one as eloquent and wealthy as myself.”
Her face broke open in a wide smile. “God, it feels so good to finally share this with you. You’re the only person in the world who can truly appreciate everything I’ve done.”
“No,” Molly protested. “LaValle killed those girls. He wanted pieces of them for his collection.”
Ava spoke to her as if she was a child. “We certainly never left anything of value. If those girls had any unusual qualities, we harvested them.”
“And then left them in the streets like trash,” Molly said bitterly, the truth of her aunt’s confession finally penetrating her disbelief.
“Trash?” Ava looked offended. “Not at all. I told you I never wasted anything. Those girls were worth their weight in gold. They convinced the police there was a lunatic stalking the city with his blade, and it gave them an easy explanation for everyone else who’d gone missing. A killer was on the loose. And he was a madman, not a madwoman. Letting the police find those bodies kept suspicion off me for the people disappearing from my peppermints, and best of all, I could frame the Tooth Fairy at the same time.”
Her eyes sparked. “That bastard never should have tried to cross me.”
“The giant,” Molly whispered.
Ava nodded. “That was the final straw, yes. You see, we had an agreement. The Tooth Fairy was allowed his territory, but with the understanding that any special bodies he found were to be offered for sale to me first.” She frowned. “Then he heard from somebody there was a sick giant in town and got greedy. Knew there was a fortune to be made by telling other collectors about him, instead of me, and pitting them against each other so he could get the highest cut.”
She stilled. “Unfortunately for him, I found out.”
“Why didn’t you just poison the giant like you poisoned the other bodies you wanted?” Molly’s voice was bitter.
“I tried,” Ava said matter-of-factly. “God knows, that would have been the simplest solution. I knew the boy’s condition meant he’d have health problems, and so when his mother brought him to the free clinic, I made sure that LaValle and I were there to meet them. I gave the boy my peppermints, but it wasn’t enough. Not with his size.” She shook her head ruefully. “I misjudged. His mother never brought him back, and after that, I was left to wait for him to die naturally, like the other buzzards.” Her face turned red. “Forced to compete for his body like a common collector. And all because of that damned Tooth Fairy.”
“So you told the police he was the Knifeman,” Molly said.
Ava grinned. “Two birds with one stone. The Tooth Fairy received the punishment he deserved for crossing me, and I avoided suspicion for the people who’d gone missing because of my peppermints.”
Her eyes met Molly’s. “I wasn’t going to do it forever, you know,” she said. “Just until Dr. LaValle got his hospital.”
“All this”—Molly’s voice choked—“for a man?”
“No,” Ava said. “For us.” She sneered. “LaValle’s been holding my secrets over me for years. When you arrived, he started making threats. So I made him a deal. I’d help him get his hospital if he’d put my name on the deed and let you stay. When we first arrived in America, you see, he was all I had. I needed his protection. His money, his house, and his connections to clients in the medical community. But I’ve long since outgrown him. Once my name was attached to the hospital and its unlimited bodies, he’d be disposable.” Her eyes shone. “No one else would know my secrets. We could really be together then, Molly. Without fear of anyone tearing us apart.”
Molly stared at her aunt, horrified. No wonder sweet Ma hadn’t wanted her anywhere near this woman. Her sister was a monster.
“But what about Kitty? How did the doctor get her tail? Was it the Tooth Fairy?”
Ava frowned. “The girl at the orphanage? But she was how I found you. The doctor overheard Edgar talking about her. He had to have her. I visited with the other ladies to find her. Pretended to look for a maid. Once I knew who she was, I went to meet her in Edgar’s stead.”
Molly felt a wild hope rise in her breast. Perhaps there was closure after all. “So Kitty didn’t kill herself. It was—”
“No,” Ava said gently. “The girl was quite dead when I found her washed up on the riverbank. Fresh, though. If I hadn’t been alone, I would have taken the rest of her.” She frowned. “As it was, I simply removed her tail and left.”
Molly pulled out the knife.
Ava’s eyes widened. “Put that away. You know me well enough to know I’d never hurt you.”
“I don’t know you at all!”
A strange look crossed her aunt’s face. “How can you say that? We’re the same, you and I.”
“No.” Molly shuddered. “I’m nothing like you. The police are coming. And I’m going to tell them everything you did. Both of you.”
“If the police come, they’ll take you too,” Ava said calmly. “You stole every body I ever asked you to.”
“I never killed anyone.” Molly raised the knife higher, waving it at her aunt’s face.
The blue velvet circled Ava’s neck like a snake. “The key,” Molly said, finally understanding. “You didn’t lock the door against the doctor—you locked it against me.”
“You weren’t ready for the truth. You needed time to understand.”
“I’ll never understand.”
Ava reached for the knife, but Molly dodged swiftly out of her reach.
“Sometimes sacrifices have to be made for the greater good,” Ava said. “Those people were never going to do anything for this world. But you—you can. You’re special. With your help, the doctor’s hospital will save thousands of lives!”
Molly cut the knife in an arc, barely missing her aunt’s fingers.
Ava pulled her hand away with a cry. “Stop it. Listen to me.”
“No!” Molly swung the knife again, its thin steel blade slicing through the air. “I don’t care if you are my aunt. I’ll kill you if I have to.”
The flames flickered to life against the pale blond of Ava’s hair. “You stupid girl,” she said, stepping forward. “I’m not your aunt—I’m your mother.”
Ava’s fingers slipped between Molly’s and gently pulled away the knife. In her shock, Molly did nothing to resist. It was as if her entire body had turned to stone.
“You’re lying.”
Ava threw the blade out of reach, and it skittered against the closed door.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
Molly’s body grew rigid. “Ma’s my mother. Not you.”
“Sweet girl, no.” Ava pressed her lips to Molly’s ear. “It’s me. It was always me.”
And suddenly it all made sense. The way she’d never quite fit with her own family, the quick, burning connection she’d felt with Ava.
“Please,” Molly begged. “Stop.”
“They made me give you away,” Ava said quietly. “Bessie was just sixteen, but she took you. Thought she was saving a child from a madwoman.”
Molly didn’t want to hear any more. She wanted it all to be taken back. To return to her life before. Before Ava. Before this city.
“Listen to me, Molly. You’re mine. You’ve always been—”
But before Ava could finish the sentence, the door swung open. Ava turned, face wide with alarm.
The fire-flecked eyes of a rat appeared before her in the doorway.