The Doll Collector Ch. 01

Authors Note: Thank you to RK Moreland for his wonderful editing style, I truly appreciate the tender care her treated my work with and explanations that will help me to improve my own structure and style. This is a new series and a little different from my usual style but I hope those who read it enjoy. If you are looking for a quick stroke piece this is probably not it though chapter two may interest you. ~ellie

Jillian was the face of Dickers Nobel & Hoar. She handled their public relations and smoothed the disputes between sellers and buyers during and after auctions. On the few occasions that the up-and-coming auction house had secured the sale of a much sought after collection of items, it was Jillian who organised the press junket and faced the media on their behalf. Worldly and savvy, Jillian's expertise lay not only in her knowledge of antiques, but in her ability to manage and guide the clientele to the auction houses way of doing things.

In her position at the auction house, Jillian had the opportunity to indulge her own collecting predilection for antique dolls. Occasionally she would come across a rare doll in the auction house but more often she found them in estate sales, hidden in boxes in attics and discovered only after the heirs, unable to settle the estate amicably, had called in the auction house to sell everything. She was well known within the doll collecting community and often sought out for her expertise with a doll discovered in a garage sale or at an out-of-the-way market.

It was September when an oddly dressed man walked into her office claiming to be the representative of the reclusive, Jacque Milieu. The young man introduced himself formally and Jillian had to stifle a smile at how much his formal greeting was in contrast to the clothes he wore. He wore his pants high with suspenders over a linen shirt and his hair seemed to be pasted in place over his head, much like a doll himself.

"To what do I owe the pleasure...?" Jillian left her sentence for him to fill in his name.

"Billy. You can call me Billy," the odd man replied.

"To what do I owe the pleasure Billy?" Jillian amended her greeting.

"My Master, Mr Milieu is considering putting some of his dolls on the market and wanted to make use of your expertise," Billy replied, explained his presence in her office.

Both flattered and intrigued Jillian leaned forward, resting her elbows on her desk. She knew Jacques Milieu by reputation only. He was known as one of the most ardent doll collectors on the antiques scene. Though rarely seen in person, he often sent representatives to bid on items or managed his auction items by phone or internet if he was sure of the authenticity. Jillian would give just about anything to view his collection and appraise it. She did her best to remain calm as the man doll before her spoke again.

"How can I be of help?" Jillian asked intrigued.

Billy placed the large box he had been carrying with him up onto the desk and opened it with care. Jillian gasped as an antique doll came into view. It was in perfect condition and appeared to be in its original costume though it was hard to tell as it lay in a bed of straw.

Jillian donned her soft white gloves eagerly before asking, "May I?" and picking up the doll carefully after Billy smiled and nodded indicating with a wave of his hand. She knew just by looking at it that it was a rare Steiner doll but she immediately turned the doll and lifted the hair from the back to see the makers mark. The doll was marked J STEINER Bte SGDG Paris FIre A13. And Jillian gasped at the treasure she held. Replacing the hair and cradling the doll she looked into its face, "What a gorgeous face, she seems so pensive. It's rare to see a French Bebe by Jules Steiner, especially with the rarer brown paperweight eyes. She is in amazing condition."

Jillian sat back down at her desk and pressed record on a small voice recorder as she studied the doll talking all the while, "She is simply stunning with one of the most beautiful faces in a Steiner I have seen. A French Bebe, approx. 50cm tall with beautiful brown paperweight eyes, surrounded by long lush finely painted lashes and those lovely feathered Steiner brows. She has a closed mouth with delicate painting and pierced ears. Her fine bisque is exceptional with very delicate colouring and a pale blush to her cheeks. She has her original long reddish brown mohair wig attached to her original Steiner cardboard pate. There are no hairlines or repairs but there are small ear hole flakes on both ears and other than that I can see no flaws."

Jillian slowly undressed the doll as Billy looked on and Jillian spoke of the clothes as she inspected each piece, "She is wearing what appears to be her original wine coloured wool dress with much pleating, trim and lace. This beautiful dress fit's her perfectly, as does her antique underwear. She has a gorgeous antique straw hat with flowers and a black velvet ribbon. The hat itself is fabulous! She has a beautiful antique white fur collar and matching fur muff. Of course, she has that fantastic original reddish brown mohair wig and original pate." In her excitement at handling such a find made her gush in rapid speak during the inspection.

Once the doll was naked, Jillian gave her appraisal of the body, "She has her original marked and fully jointed Steiner body with its original finish. This lovely doll has straight wrists with long delicate Steiner fingers and a paper Steiner label on her right hip. It has a voice box and a string still attached but is not working. There is some repair on her upper leg balls and some composition loss where the legs would sit or move. She has a couple finger touch ups but all in all a lovely Steiner body with normal age wear."

Jillian finally looked up from the doll to the odd little doll-like man sitting at her desk. "I don't think you will find a finer and more beautiful Steiner anywhere in the market at the moment. Her outfit is fantastic, and that wig is truly incredible and such a sad face with those rare brown eyes! I am pretty sure she is from 1890 but I will have to check the documentation to be precise. If she is though I imagine she is worth in excess of five thousand dollars, maybe more if the right press is done for the sale."

"I think you have misunderstood, Miss Blakeley," Billy interrupted her and she looked at him blankly. "This doll," he continued, "would be included in payment for your services. My employer wishes to meet you personally and assess your suitability to appreciate his genius as a collector of the most beautiful and rare dolls," Billy smiled at her look of surprise, "Mr Milieu would like to invite you to his house for a weekend at your earliest convenience to discuss his collection with you."

Jillian looked down at the doll before her, she could only dream about adding something this perfect to her small collection and here it was being offered to her for a weekends work. She would be crazy to say no. Jillian tried to keep the eagerness from her voice as she looked up from the doll again with wide eyes. "Just let me check my schedule," she said as she turned to her computer.

"Mr Milieu will be most pleased that you will be accepting the invitation," Billy said, "You may keep the doll to authenticate it properly before the meeting. When shall we expect you?"

Jillian turned back to him, "I am afraid I have plans this weekend, the weekend after appears clear though, if that suits your employer."

"I am sure it will be exactly as he wished it to be, Miss Blakely. We will be in touch before the date," Billy stood and held out his hand to her. She took, it still slightly put off by the odd little mans appearance and demeanour, so like a doll himself it was almost creepy.

As soon as the man left her office Jillian went into action. She started to research, not the doll which from experience she knew to be authentic, but the reclusive Jacques Milieu himself. There was very little information about the recluse. He was independently wealthy; a philanthropist giving monies to a variety of charities and sponsoring more than one university scholarship, but he never seemed to appear in public and there were no known photo's of the man.

It seemed there was no background information about his family or where he had come from before moving to this country a decade ago. Jillian was frustrated as she spent the weekend trawling the internet for gossip, rumour and innuendo about the mysterious recluse she was to meet the following week.

Returning to work the following week, Jillian called friends within the antique trade ostensibly to talk about the doll Jacques Milieu had sent her but also to see if anyone had ever dealt with the man himself in person before. She did find one person who said that he had heard of another woman who had gone to meet the man but she had resigned from the company he worked at shortly after the meeting. He wasn't unsure what had happened to her since then. She had taken the jibes of the man she was speaking to about women getting clucky and that the woman concerned had probably run off to have babies with a grain of salt. Jillian was not that sort of woman; she didn't even have a steady boyfriend as she had been so focused in her ambition to conquer the antiques world through the auction house she worked for.

The following weekend, it was with a little trepidation and a great deal of curiosity that Jillian drove to the home of Jacques Milieu. The house, if you could call the huge structure a house, was made of rough sandstone and stood imperiously in the middle of a small open plain. The tyres of her car crunched on a pale gravel driveway as she slowly approached the gates and leaned out of the car window to press the button hearing a loud buzzing before a voice inquired, "Miss Blakeley?"

"Yes. I am here to meet Mr. Milieu, as arranged," she replied sounding more confident than she felt.

"Drive up and to the left of the house, please, Miss Blakeley," the voice instructed and gate began to open. Jillian drove through the gateway looking into the rear vision mirror to see the gates close ominously behind her. Shaking herself she looked ahead, the fact that despite all her research she still barely knew who this man was that made her feel a little concerned. It only stood to reason that such a reclusive man would have tight security around his home.

She drove to the left side of his house where she spotted Billy, who directed her to a parking garage. Gathering her over night bag and brief case from the car boot she smiled and walked to where Billy stood. "Hello, again," she smiled trying to seem self assured.

"Welcome, Miss Blakeley, if you will follow me, please?" Billy said formally. Jillian followed him into the house, noticing that while the clothes had changed, his style hadn't. He had the rosy cheeked glow of a doll as if he had been painted that way.

"I wasn't expecting the amount of traffic leaving town this weekend; I hope I haven't kept Mr Milieu waiting," Jillian spoke quietly as she trailed behind the man through the conservatory and into the house proper. She gasped as she entered the enormous foyer gazing at the grand staircase and dark polished wood of the banisters and furniture. Realising she had been staring she closed her mouth and followed the man up the staircase.

As they reached the top of the flight of stairs, Billy spoke again, "That is Mr Milieu's wing," he indicated the area to the right of the stairs with a wave of his hand, "He would appreciate it if you did not enter that part of the house." He continued to walk along the hallway to the left as he spoke, "Mr Milieu has put you in the Victorian room. You will find some examples from the collection you are here to appraise within display cases there."

Jillian was shown not to just a room but a suite of rooms decorated in the Victorian style, "I will leave you to freshen up and join us downstairs when you are ready," Billy turned to leave but Jillian stopped him.

"How will I know how to find you? I mean, this place is immense," she asked, waving her arms about.

Billy seemed to consider her though it was hard to tell with his doll-like face. "I will be back to escort you in one hour," he said looking at his watch, then he abruptly turned closing the door behind him.

Jillian looked around the large sitting room of the suite, and noting the glass cases holding individual dolls as she went to drop her bags in the bedroom. She decided to freshen up first before she got lost in her study of what she was sure were rare and valuable dolls. Taking a fresh blouse and skirt from her bag she went into the ensuite to freshen up and change. She rushed through the shower and changed quickly as her curiosity ran wild with the glimpses of the dolls she had seen in the sitting room. She wanted to spend as much time as possible examining them before Billy returned.

She spent the next forty-five minutes moving from case to case throughout the suite of rooms recognising rare examples or very good copies of the coveted French and German fashion dolls of the Victorian era. Jillian didn't dare take them from the cabinets but rather moved around pressing her face as close as possible to the glass without fogging it up with her breath.

Billy arrived knocking softly on her door all too soon for Jillian and she sighed as she went to open the door, leaving her inspection of what she thought may have been a doll by Adelaide Huret. She followed the creepy man-doll back through the hallway and down the stairs to the foyer again. "High tea will be served in the conservatory," Billy said ushering her forward toward the brightly lit doorway.

"High tea," Jillian repeated as she walked towards the door. It was like she had stepped back in time within this huge house. She was glad she had chosen to wear a conservative blouse and skirt. Taking a deep breath she walked through the door, prepared to greet the owner of home and thank him for his invitation. What she hadn't been prepared for was the man who greeted her warmly as soon as she entered.

"Hello, you must be Miss Blakely," he said formally, taking her hand and guiding her to a seat at the table. "I am Jack. How do you take your tea?"

Jillian was speechless for a few moments as she sat where she was guided and tried to find the words to reply. She pulled herself together and answered slowly, "I am afraid I am not much of a tea drinker. I'm sorry, perhaps some water might be available?" She smiled despite the uneasy feeling this man's appearance gave her.

Short for a man, he limped when he walked. She guessed that was an additional injury apart from the burn scars that covered half of his face, disfiguring his ear and neck as well. "Of course." Jacques or Jack as he called himself, rang small bell. A middle aged woman bustled in wearing the black and white livery of a house servant from the Victorian era. "Could you bring some water and a carafe of juice for our guest please, Rose?" Jack asked in a soft voice.

The maid curtsied and smiled, "Yes Sir," she whispered and disappeared again.

The afternoon went by quickly as in an attempt to make Jillian feel more at ease, Jack began to talk of his love for collecting rare and unique dolls. Knowing she shared his passion to some degree, he probed her knowledge on the various well-known makers from the Victorian era. "Some excellent examples from the 1920's are beginning to become sought-after as well, do you have much knowledge of these?" Jack placed some photos on the table before her.

Jillian sorted the photo's into small groups while she spoke, "These are Boudoir dolls, bed dolls to some. This one looks like it has a Gish face that will make it more valuable. I would need to see the makers mark but I think if any were by Lenci or Biertz, they would be worth the investment." She looked back up at the man who was smiling at her.

"Would you like to see them perhaps?" he chuckled.

Jillian gasped, "You have bought them already?"

"A fellow collector recently had to liquidate a portion of his collection I bought the consignment sight unseen. I believe it arrived yesterday, but I have been far to busy to see to it. These pictures were part of the reason I bid so highly on it." He could see the questions bubbling up inside the girl seated opposite him and stopped speaking to allow her to ask them.

"I haven't heard of any auctions recently featuring dolls like this," Jillian stated.

"No it was a strictly private affair between several friends of the poor man." He watched her brow furrow. "It is not uncommon for deals to be struck between fellow collectors; to be sure the dolls are well cared for," he explained further.

"I guess I can understand that," Jillian looked back at the photos scattered before her. "I am here to appraise this collection?" she asked curiously, knowing she had brought the wrong reference materials with her for this. "I had thought after your wonderful gift that you were looking for information on the fashion dolls from the Victorian era," she explained. "I am not sure I can give this collection the appraisal it deserves."

"I am sure you will do fine." Jack smiled crookedly the scars pulling at his lip making it seem more of a snarl than a smile. "Shall we go inspect it?"

"Of course," she said, a little unsure of herself at this new information. She took the hand he offered her without thought, before feeling the scarred rough skin beneath her own softer hand. She immediately flinched by steeled herself, in order to not pull her hand away. The snarling smile appeared on his face again as they walked through the great foyer once more to a large library. "Books and dolls," Jack began to explain, "were my only friends after my accident and the long years of rehabilitation I spent in hospital."

As in the room she had been given for the weekend there were extraordinary examples of rare dolls within glass cases set into nooks around the room. Jillian felt she could spend a week exploring just this room massive room, let alone what other treasures this house held. Several large boxes were stacked around a small sitting area and still guiding her by the hand, Jack led Jillian to sit on a comfortable velvet chaise before walking to a large mahogany desk and picking up a few sharp looking implements. Jillian shivered as he turned back toward her, she had brief visions of Freddy Krueger and she shook her head to dispel them. This man seemed genuinely nice. She had to stop focusing on his appearance and more on his words.

Placing the implements on the small table between the chairs, Jack picked up a box and put it beside her on the chaise, "It's almost like Christmas," she said and his lips turned into that macabre snarling smile. Despite her feeling of ill ease at his smile, she admitted she was excited at the prospect of revealing the dolls and smiled in return, dropping her eyes from his and gazing at the box in expectation.

Jack took up a sword-shaped letter opener and carefully ran it down the middle of the tape that was holding the top of the heavy cardboard box together. The sound was dry and rasping and as he slowly drew it along the line, she shivered again. Gritting her teeth, Jillian watched the careful progress of the sword, not wanting to look up at the disfigured man beside her. The box finally opened, they both pulled at the straw that surrounded it before Jack pulled out the doll cradling it softly in his scarred and disfigured hands.

It was a gorgeous doll and looking up at Jack she began her assessment before looking back down at the doll. "She has the most gorgeous face which collectors call the "Gish" face believed to have been fashioned after Lillian Gish, a famous actress of the time," Jillian began, carefully took the doll from Jack's hands to inspect her more closely. Jillian started her voice recorder which she had brought with her and Jack leaned forward to turn it off. "I won't be able to give you a formal written appraisal if I don't have the notes," Jillian stated. She was startled by his actions.