Hush Now, Don't You Cry(74)

“Colleen is dead,” she said flatly. “You knew that. You’ve seen her grave.”

“Then who is she?”

“Kathleen’s her name. She was Colleen’s twin.”

“Colleen had a twin sister? Then why is she kept up here rather than with her family?”

She leaned closer to me. “Because she killed Colleen. She pushed her sister over the cliff.”

“But she was four years old. She couldn’t have known what she was doing.”

“I’m afraid she knew, all right. She was observed, you see. Creeping up behind her sister and then giving her that awful push. She was always the strange one, poor little thing. Colleen was the most adorable little girl you could ever imagine—blonde curls, blue eyes, dimples, and a disposition to match. Everybody adored her. And Kathleen, well she had the same features but without the prettiness, if you know what I mean, and her hair was mousy while her sister’s was golden, and she was sullen and stubborn and withdrawn. She hung back when Colleen ran into your arms. How do I put it—she simply wasn’t as lovable.”

“So you think she got rid of her more lovable twin?” I asked.

“I know she did.”

“What did she say about it? Was she sorry? Did she think it was an accident?”

“We don’t know. At that moment she stopped speaking. I don’t believe she remembers a thing about it, and she’s even forgotten she had a twin. It’s as if she blotted the whole thing from her mind. As you can see she calls that doll Colleen and she speaks to it in gibberish, but that’s the only time she speaks. Not a word to me although she may nod now and then.”

“So whose decision was it to have her locked away up here?” I asked.

“After it happened her mother was fearful for her little boy and for the one she was expecting. She didn’t want Kathleen in the same house anymore. So it was agreed she’d be put in an institution for the mentally impaired. They found one in the Connecticut countryside and off she was shipped. It was agreed that she’d never be mentioned again.”

“That’s terrible—a four-year-old child condemned because she was jealous of her popular twin and did something stupid on impulse.”

She shrugged. “You have to understand how they all adored Colleen. Miss Irene and Mr. Archie doted on her. And so did the master. She was the light of his life. But he was a fair man, a just man. Miss Irene couldn’t bring herself to visit her daughter, in fact a doctor told her that it would be more disturbing for the child to see her family. But Alderman Hannan, he went up to see her, and he was horrified. This place was supposed to be a humane institution and they were paying well for the privilege of keeping her there, but he said the patients were treated like animals. They were like animals—unkempt, crawling around on the floor, stealing each other’s food. He saw Kathleen retreating further and further into herself, giving up on life. He knew if he left her there any longer she’d die. So he had these rooms built secretly within the tower. He made them soundproof and a stair going up within the walls. I’m the only one who has the key and knows the way in.”

She paused, breathing heavily, and she toyed with the knife in her hand. For a moment I wondered if she was still considering using it on me and I glanced around for something to defend myself with.

“Didn’t her parents ever want to check on her?” I asked after a silence.

“They believed that the alderman visited her regularly—which he did, of course—and reported back to them. But if you ask me, I think they preferred not to be reminded of her.”

“How do you manage to keep her a secret?” I asked.

“Most of the year it’s no problem,” she said. “It’s only me and Kathleen and she’s been an easy child until recently.”

“What happens when the family is here?”

“Then I change her routine,” she said. “I give her medicine to make her sleep all day and then she’s up at night.”

“No wonder you wanted to get back when you came to Daniel the other night,” I said.

“I don’t like to leave her too long when people are here.” She glanced at the door. “I’ve had to put the fear of God into the child. I’ve told her that the bad people will take her away back to that dreadful place if they find her here, so she has to be as quiet as a little mouse. I hate doing it, but it’s for her own good. Poor little mite looks down from her window and doesn’t even know it’s her own brothers running around down there.”

“They saw her the other night,” I said.