What ought to be an innocuous business catering to wealthy collectors and hobbyists hid an underlying clandestine operation.
The year was 1942. Just a few months fresh from the traumatizing damages the Imperial Japanese had inflicted on neutral America. Almost everyone in the stateside was furious and vindictive, seeking retribution for the damage and losses done at Pearl Harbor.
But most of all, suspicious considering prior to the attack, spies and undercover agents were strolling around the island state covertly taking and transmitting critical information to the enemies and costing the lives of hundreds of Americans. So it didn’t come as a surprise when mysterious letters addressed to South America immediately found their way to the hands of the Federal Investigation Bureau (FBI) after postal censors discovered these undeliverable.
This is the case of the “Doll Shop Spy” and how brilliant minds in the Bureau caught wind of the seemingly harmless letters about dolls.
Too Odd To Be Just About Dolls
In February 1942, wartime censors intercepted a letter containing unusual contents from a woman in Portland, Oregon, addressed to someone in Buenos Aires, Argentina. The letter discussed a “doll hospital” where the sender left her three “Old English dolls” for repairs, with references to “fish nets” and “balloons.” Recognizing the potential significance, the FBI’s cryptographers deciphered the coded message, linking the dolls to warships, the doll hospital to a shipyard, and the fish nets and balloons to defense installations. This discovery prompted a thorough investigation into the potential transmission of sensitive defense information.
Four additional letters sent to Buenos Aires, marked “Address Unknown,” arrived at the homes of unsuspecting senders. The letters contained accurate personal details but were denied by the alleged senders. Another letter, mentioning Chinese dolls and repairs, was linked to a damaged warship at Pearl Harbor. The FBI’s analysis confirmed that all five letters had forged signatures and shared typewriter characteristics, indicating a common author. Velvalee Dickinson, the owner of a doll shop in New York City, emerged as a suspect after her typewriter matched the Buenos Aires letter. Further investigation revealed her connections to the recipients and previous correspondence about doll collections.
The Woman Who Runs the NYC Doll Shop
Velvalee Dickinson moved to New York City with her husband in 1937, where she became a doll saleswoman in a department store. She eventually opened her doll store, initially operating from her residence and later at a separate store on Madison Avenue.
Velvalee store catered to affluent doll collectors and enthusiasts seeking foreign, regional, and antique dolls. Meanwhile, her husband supported her business by managing the accounting records, including sales to influential individuals across the states. Sadly, Mr. Dickinson, who had a heart ailment, passed away on March 29, 1943.
His passing, however, became his wife’s favorite alibi when authorities began indicting Velvalee about the suspicious doll letters.
The Arrest, The Confession, The Indictment
Caught Red-Handed
As the evidence continued to mount, agents closed in on the doll shop owner, ultimately executing her arrest in mid-January 1944 inside the bank vault where she stored her safe deposit box. A month later, the federal grand jury indicted her for violating censorship laws, with a max penalty of ten-year imprisonment and a $10,000 fine (about $154,000 in 2023). Nonetheless, Dickinson pleaded not guilty and was held on $25,000 bail.
Upon inspecting her safe deposit box, it was discovered that approximately $13,000 could be linked to Japanese sources, including New York City-based Japanese Naval Inspector Captain Yuzo Ishikawa. At first, Dickinson asserted that the money originated from a mix of insurance, a savings account, and her doll business. However, in a later interview, she changed her story, stating that the money actually belonged to her late husband and was found hidden in his bed. She suspected it might have come from the Japanese Consul in New York City.
The FBI’s investigation led to another indictment in May 1944, charging Dickinson with violating espionage laws, the Registration Act of 1917, and censorship statutes. Despite the mounting charges, she maintained her innocence and pleaded not guilty, with her bail remaining $25,000.
Blame the Dead
By late July of the same year, a deal was reached between the US Attorney and Dickinson’s defense, resulting in a guilty plea for the censorship violation in exchange for dropping the Espionage and Registration Act indictments. Additionally, she was required to provide information about Japanese intelligence activities, offering her a chance at redemption.
After her guilty plea, Dickinson confessed to typing and preparing the five letters sent to an individual in Argentina. She admitted to forging signatures using correspondence from her customers. She claimed to gather information by questioning unsuspecting citizens and through personal observations near naval yards in Seattle and San Francisco. The content of the letters, according to Dickinson, provided details about damaged aircraft carriers and battleships at Pearl Harbor, with the doll names serving as codewords for these vessels.
Dickinson alleged that she received the code, instructions, and $25,000 from Japanese Naval Attaché Ichiro Yokoyama in her doll store on or around November 26, 1941. She further claimed that the money had been concealed in her husband’s bed until his death. However, the FBI’s investigation contradicted her statements.
Final Verdict
The Bureau discovered no direct connection between Velvalee and the Japanese Naval attaché, while her husband was found to have no knowledge of him, making his involvement unlikely. Medical examinations also indicated her husband’s impaired mental faculties at the time of the alleged Japanese payment, and the nurse and maid employed by the Dickinsons testified that no hidden money was found under the husband’s bed.
On August 14, 1944, Velvalee Dickinson appeared in court for sentencing. The court condemned her actions, emphasizing the severe consequences of aiding the enemy during wartime. Despite her unwavering claims of innocence and blaming her deceased husband, she received a guilty verdict and was sentenced to ten years in prison, along with a $10,000 fine.
She served her sentence at the Federal Correctional Institution for Women (now the Alderson Federal Prison Camp) in West Virginia until her conditional release in 1951. Afterward, she changed her name to Catherine Dickerson and reportedly formed a friendship and worked as a secretary for American philanthropist Eunice Kennedy-Shriver.
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