on the back of a quilt measuring about three feet by four feet. We didn’t feel any notes sewn inside, and the only writing was on the label: Jamey I Hardly Knew Ye. The traditional pieced blocks on the front were composed of squares and triangles within triangles. The whole thing was also embellished with French knots.
“I remember this quilt.” Birdie smiled. “Jamey was in our show a few years ago. This block design looks like something I once did called Cat’s Cradle.”
“Well, let’s look in BlockBase to make sure of the name.” I booted up my laptop and opened the software program containing a database for thousands of traditional block designs. I typed in Cat’s Cradle in the search box, and up popped a picture of Claire’s block.
“Look how many names this block has. Cat’s Cradle, Double Pyramids, Dove at the Window, Flying Birds, and Wandering Lover.”
Lucy pointed her finger. “You know, the title of this quilt contains a man’s name—Jamey. What if he was Claire’s ‘wandering lover’?”
Birdie patted Lucy on the back. “Brilliant! Do we know if she had a lover?”
“Well, when I searched for the key to Claire’s quilt cupboard, I discovered a half-full box of condoms in her panty drawer.”
Lucy nodded. “There you go. Now, if the condoms were in her sewing room, I’d say she could have been using them as grips to pull a stuck needle out of a quilt. Since they were in with her panties, we have to assume they were being used as God intended.”
“That’s pretty funny coming from a Catholic girl, but you’re right. Aside from those little rubber circles you can buy in the quilt store, I’ve seen quilters use finger cots and even pieces of balloons to grip on to a stubborn needle—but never a condom.”
“What kind of panties?” asked Lucy. “You can sometimes tell a lot about a person by their underwear.”
“Black lacy thongs, about the size of the palm of my hand.”
“Bingo. Those are ‘do me’ panties.” She wiggled her fingers in air quotes. “Claire could’ve been having an affair with someone named Jamey. Maybe he was the wandering lover. They could have fought and he killed her.”
“So why steal her new quilt and not this one?”
Lucy shrugged. “You said this quilt was in a locked cupboard, right? Maybe he didn’t know about this one.”
Birdie smoothed her hand over the quilt. “Just look at all these French knots. They remind me of an odd kind of painting they did. What was it called?”
“Pointillism?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“You know what else they remind me of?” asked Lucy. “The funny pictures in old-timey newspapers. Do you remember when you were a kid looking really close at the Sunday funnies and discovering the colors weren’t solid but made out of hundreds of tiny dots of ink?”
“Well, if there’s a picture in these knots I don’t see it.”
The next quilt was an appliqué Claire named Night Flower. Stunningly detailed red roses were appliquéd over a field of navy blue. Each flower was created by layering the petals one at a time. The petals of the roses were attached with great skill, using invisible stitches around the edges. Claire arranged the roses in the middle of the quilt in the shape of a T .
Small four-leaf clovers nestled randomly around the edges of the quilt created a border of green. Claire had used a great deal of skill to appliqué those small inside curves without visible stitches. Did she use silk thread? Silk was thin and slinky and tended to sink into the weave of the fabric where it couldn’t be seen. Sewn in among the clovers were the same clear beads in Claire’s other quilts and, of course, the ubiquitous French knots in the background.
“I don’t remember Claire ever entering this in a show. Do you?”
Both Birdie and Lucy shook their heads.
“Look at this. Here are those beads again. They must mean something if she has them sewn in so many quilts.”
Birdie fingered one of the
“I remember this quilt.” Birdie smiled. “Jamey was in our show a few years ago. This block design looks like something I once did called Cat’s Cradle.”
“Well, let’s look in BlockBase to make sure of the name.” I booted up my laptop and opened the software program containing a database for thousands of traditional block designs. I typed in Cat’s Cradle in the search box, and up popped a picture of Claire’s block.
“Look how many names this block has. Cat’s Cradle, Double Pyramids, Dove at the Window, Flying Birds, and Wandering Lover.”
Lucy pointed her finger. “You know, the title of this quilt contains a man’s name—Jamey. What if he was Claire’s ‘wandering lover’?”
Birdie patted Lucy on the back. “Brilliant! Do we know if she had a lover?”
“Well, when I searched for the key to Claire’s quilt cupboard, I discovered a half-full box of condoms in her panty drawer.”
Lucy nodded. “There you go. Now, if the condoms were in her sewing room, I’d say she could have been using them as grips to pull a stuck needle out of a quilt. Since they were in with her panties, we have to assume they were being used as God intended.”
“That’s pretty funny coming from a Catholic girl, but you’re right. Aside from those little rubber circles you can buy in the quilt store, I’ve seen quilters use finger cots and even pieces of balloons to grip on to a stubborn needle—but never a condom.”
“What kind of panties?” asked Lucy. “You can sometimes tell a lot about a person by their underwear.”
“Black lacy thongs, about the size of the palm of my hand.”
“Bingo. Those are ‘do me’ panties.” She wiggled her fingers in air quotes. “Claire could’ve been having an affair with someone named Jamey. Maybe he was the wandering lover. They could have fought and he killed her.”
“So why steal her new quilt and not this one?”
Lucy shrugged. “You said this quilt was in a locked cupboard, right? Maybe he didn’t know about this one.”
Birdie smoothed her hand over the quilt. “Just look at all these French knots. They remind me of an odd kind of painting they did. What was it called?”
“Pointillism?”
“Yes, that’s it.”
“You know what else they remind me of?” asked Lucy. “The funny pictures in old-timey newspapers. Do you remember when you were a kid looking really close at the Sunday funnies and discovering the colors weren’t solid but made out of hundreds of tiny dots of ink?”
“Well, if there’s a picture in these knots I don’t see it.”
The next quilt was an appliqué Claire named Night Flower. Stunningly detailed red roses were appliquéd over a field of navy blue. Each flower was created by layering the petals one at a time. The petals of the roses were attached with great skill, using invisible stitches around the edges. Claire arranged the roses in the middle of the quilt in the shape of a T .
Small four-leaf clovers nestled randomly around the edges of the quilt created a border of green. Claire had used a great deal of skill to appliqué those small inside curves without visible stitches. Did she use silk thread? Silk was thin and slinky and tended to sink into the weave of the fabric where it couldn’t be seen. Sewn in among the clovers were the same clear beads in Claire’s other quilts and, of course, the ubiquitous French knots in the background.
“I don’t remember Claire ever entering this in a show. Do you?”
Both Birdie and Lucy shook their heads.
“Look at this. Here are those beads again. They must mean something if she has them sewn in so many quilts.”
Birdie fingered one of the
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