LIONEL WAS FASCINATED by murders; everyone knew that. The Riverview killings would make exactly the kind of story he loved, gruesome but also peculiar, like that scenario he’d written for the Sweedie movie with the dolls. Pin thought it was funny when Wally Beery played it, but she’d overheard Lionel pitching the original version to Billy Carrera. Dolls that came to life in the toy shop at night, dolls that the toy maker mistook for real girls. She was glad that Spoor had put the kibosh on that one. It gave her the willies.

The giant clock sang a solitary cuckoo. Already afternoon. If she didn’t hurry, she’d miss her chance to get the book to Lionel at the studio, dash back to the park, and make a second run for Max. Glory had said she’d be around all day, but Pin knew how quickly things changed at Essanay, entire movies rewritten and reshot within a few hours. She hopped onto the arcade’s wooden walkway and pushed her way through a group of girls milling in front of her mother’s booth.

“Hey, we’re next!” One of the girls squared her shoulders to block Pin’s way. “Wait your turn.”

“Yeah, get in line, buster.” A girl with glasses grabbed Pin’s hand and peered at it. “Phew! Says here, you need to take a bath.”

Pin shoved her aside. The girl gasped, yelping, “Didn’t your mother teach you not to hit girls?”

The black velvet drapes flew open. “Who’s next? What’s going on out here?”

Her mother stood in the doorway, frowning. After a moment, her eyes widened—in recognition, Pin realized, though not of her daughter but of someone behind Pin. Gina raised her eyebrows and quickly nodded, signaling to whoever it was. Pin glanced around but saw no one she recognized.

Yet when she looked back at Gina, her mother’s gaze did fix on her, now in alarm. She made a shooing gesture, urging Pin to leave. Confused, Pin again turned to scan the Pike.

Morgenstern had removed his derby and was waving it. Standing on tiptoe, she could just make out another Riverview cop, this one in uniform, pushing through the crowd toward the arcade. She glanced back at her mother, who shook her head vehemently and mouthed the word Go! Without a sound, Pin left.

Chapter 79

Chapter 79

SWINE. THEY WERE all swine. If he had a knife he’d pry that one’s eyes out like a nutmeat.