Bob Silva was clear there’d been no OxyContin pills in his home.

Chief Irons was quoted as “looking for the evil snake who has invaded our fair community and poisoned our children.”

In an April issue Maggie read the police note about windows being broken on Apple Orchard Lane: the rocks thrown through Cordelia’s windows. In June, police broke up a fight between Daniel Jeffrey and Robert Silva at the Lazy Lobster. No charges filed. So Bob Silva was still angry, and still convinced Dan Jeffrey was the one who’d brought the drugs to Winslow that killed his son.

Maggie kept reading, checking the headlines and the Police Blotter.

But after Tony Silva’s death there were no mentions of wild parties. Or drug arrests. It was as though whatever had been happening in Winslow last winter and spring had ended with Tony Silva’s death.

Chapter 22

Raggedy Ann in Hot Water.Johnny Gruelle (1880-1938) created the Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls and wrote and illustrated the stories for his daughter Marcella (whom he made a character in the books). Marcella died when she was thirteen. When the stories became popular, others also wrote Raggedy Ann and Andy stories and made the rag dolls, so collectors need to be certain they are buying original Gruelle books or dolls. This illustration is a lithograph from the first of Gruelle’s books, Raggedy Ann Stories, 1918. Raggedy Ann has gotten herself dirty, and Dinah, the stereotypical black maid, is boiling her in a pot of water to clean her. Raggedy Ann is peering over the edge of the pot, hoping Marcella will rescue her. 4.5 x 7 inches. $60.

Maggie arranged several McLoughlin Brothers children’s books face out on a high shelf in the front room at Aunt Augusta’s Attic. “You have a great selection of illustrated children’s books. I think McLoughlin did the best chromolithographs in this country in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. You’d have to go to Edinburgh or Germany to equal them.”

“I love McLoughlin books,” agreed Gussie. “And the prices aren’t too high. Most of the illustrations wouldn’t make good stand-alone prints, so you print dealers aren’t looking to buy them and take them apart. That helps keeps the prices down.”

“Usually there are too many words on the pages, and the illustrations are too specific to the stories for prints.” agreed Maggie. “I’ve had some breakers—books in which the binding was already broken—but even then I haven’t been tempted to mat and try to sell the prints separately. They just don’t work outside the books.”

“When I first started dealing in toys, years ago, I looked for the McLoughlin name. They made the finest paper dolls, blocks, and games. I knew if I was in doubt that buying a McLoughlin item was the right choice. I still love them. Now a lot of McLoughlin toys are being reproduced. I can spot them immediately, but sometimes new collectors get fooled. Several times a month people bring me reproductions and ask me their value. Or try to sell them to me, thinking they’re authentic antiques.”

Maggie nodded. “I wish all reproductions had dates on them. Or were marked ‘Reproduction.’ But not all do. Wasn’t McLoughlin sold to one of the big toy companies?”

“Milton Bradley, in 1920. Early Milton Bradley games are also collectable, if they have all their pieces, but few do after all these years. And their boards aren’t as beautifully printed as McLoughlin ones.”

Maggie shelved the last of the picture books and started in on a box of books for older children. “Gussie, how long has Ike Irons been in charge of the police department here in Winslow?”

“Maybe fifteen years? I think he came from Mashpee. He’s not a native of Winslow. But not from far away. Mashpee has a much larger police force, so he may have gotten his training there. Why?”

“I was over at the library while you were resting. I wanted to read about what happened last spring, when Tony Silva died.”

“That was horrible,” said Gussie. “Sad. Poor Bob Silva. His wife died of cancer when his son was still in nursery school. Since then he’d focused his life around the boy. He took it hard. The whole town did, actually. It’s the sort of thing people in a small town don’t expect to happen to their children.”

“And yet no one expects murder in a small town, and no one seems too upset about Dan Jeffrey’s murder.”

“Tony was fifteen. Dan was a quiet man who hadn’t been here long; he didn’t have a family, except for Cordelia; and he didn’t have many friends. I suspect not many people even know about his death.”

“And those who’ve heard his name connect him with Tony Silva’s death last spring, because Bob Silva’s been pretty vocal about blaming him. Or so I’ve heard.”

“That’s possible. Bob isn’t the sort to hold his tongue once he gets something in his head.”

“I assume Chief Irons is checking out Bob Silva’s alibi for the day Dan Jeffrey disappeared.”

“I guess so. He’s the one in charge, you know. You’re here to help me with the shop and the wedding.”

“Right! Like, where do you want these Horatio Alger books?”

“Ah, yes. I keep waiting for someone to write a best-selling novel based on some titan of industry who’s patterned his life on one of those books, so they’ll skyrocket in value,” said Gussie. “Or maybe there’ll be an expose on Alger, who was probably a pedophile. For now, put them up on the top shelf. They’re not exactly big sellers. Although I do sell them once in a while to people whose name, or whose husband’s or son’s name, is in the title.”

“Like Phil the Fiddler, or Paul the Peddler, or Joe’s Luck, or Mark the Match Boy?” said Maggie.

Gussie agreed. “Rags to riches. Still a great theme.”

“I talk about Alger in my American Intellectual History course,” said Maggie. “His works really are classics. You can still buy a paperback of Ragged Dick.”

“Well, don’t tell my customers. Here they can buy a copy from a hundred years ago, or more,” said Gussie. “All the dreams of America between two covers. All you need to succeed is to be born a boy, work hard, be virtuous, and then do a good deed for a rich man who’ll appreciate your pluck and give you your first big break.”

“And it’s straight to the top from there,” agreed Maggie. “It also helps if you marry the rich man’s daughter.” She looked around. “Now, where are your other books? I assume you have all the other childhood classics?”

“Of course. I only take a few to antique shows because they’re heavy, but I do want to have a selection in the shop for people to choose from. Isaiah Thomas Books in Cotuit is a wonderful antiquarian bookshop on the Cape, of course, and I don’t attempt to compete with them. But my selection isn’t bad.”

“I’m impressed. I know how hard it is to find copies of books for children in good condition. Well-loved children’s books are too often in well-loved condition. Where are the rest of your books?”

“They’re in cartons creatively labeled BKS and stacked on the wall in back of the bathroom. There’s a dolly there, if they’re too heavy.”

“I’ll take them one carton at a time,” called Maggie. She returned with one in a moment. “Do you want them all out?”

“One copy of each title, to begin with. Alphabetically by author.” Gussie started arranging an assortment of cast iron banks. “Have you talked with Will recently? Is there any chance he’ll be able to drive down early?”

“We talked two nights ago.” She should have called Will last night. But she’d gotten so involved with Cordelia and Diana she’d forgotten. And then she was going to call this morning, but there was the almost-fire. “He can’t come earlier than he’d planned; there’s no one else to stay with Aunt Nettie.”

“How is she?”

“She’s fine. Cooking up a storm. He doesn’t like leaving her alone, in case she were to fall, or something else were to happen.”