Old World Murder - Kathleen Ernst [30]
“The other donations,” he said patiently. “You were going to call Madison.”
“Oh. Right. Yes.” Shit. Why did she always stutter like an idiot in this man’s presence? “I called the registrar yesterday. She said the ale bowl was the only artifact from Mrs. Lundquist’s donation that was transferred to Old World.”
He nodded. “Well, I need to get to work.”
Me too, Chloe thought, but she felt no inclination to tell this uptight cop that she was about to poke through the dead woman’s home and belongings.
____
Mrs. Lundquist lived—had lived—in a tiny frame house just off the main street. Lace curtains hung in the window, and a wicker rocking chair waited on the small front porch. Crimson geraniums blossomed cheerfully in half-barrels on either side of the front walk. Life goes on, Chloe thought, but it all seemed strange.
Mr. Solberg unlocked the front door. Chloe stepped inside and automatically paused, taking in the feel of the place. The house was forty, maybe fifty years old. It held a distant jumble of sensory energy, but the strongest sensation was one of calm quiet. That made sense; Mrs. Lundquist had lived alone for a long time.
Pocket doors to the right of the entrance hall led to an eat-in kitchen. Mr. Solberg turned left. “If there’s anything to find, I think it’d be in here,” he said.
Chloe scanned the tidy living room. The furniture was old, worn but not dingy. A recliner waited in front of a television set, holding a half-done crocheted afghan in cheery purple and yellow. Mr. Solberg picked up the project, smoothing the zigzag pattern with his fingers. “Berget always was one for crochet. She’d make blankets and donate ’em to the hospital in Madison for new babies.”
Chloe murmured something sympathetic before turning away from the sadness in the old man’s eyes. Bookshelves lined two walls. Mrs. Lundquist’s reading tastes had ranged from James Michener’s novels to presidential biographies, but evidently did not include Norwegian history or antiques.
A montage of photographs formed a square on one wall, and Chloe stepped closer for a good look. Mr. Solberg joined her. “There’s Berget and Jack. Jack died young. Bad ticker.” He pointed to a black-and-white wedding photograph of a beaming couple. Mid-1930s, Chloe guessed, judging by the gown style. She stared at Berget as a young bride, trying hard not to juxtapose the lovely image with a lined face, slack in death.
The other photographs were older and of still, stern people, stiffly posed. Mrs. Lundquist’s parents, grandparents? “Do you know if both of the Lundquists had Norwegian ancestry?” she asked.
“She did, that’s for sure. She was proud of her people. ‘I’m from good Norwegian stock,’ she always said. But Jack was Swedish. Berget used to say how open-minded she was, marrying a Swede.”
Ah! It was an old jest, but helpful. The sketchy accession form specifically noted a Norwegian ale bowl. If Jack Lundquist had been Swedish, the ale bowl had almost certainly come through Mrs. Lund-quist’s family, not his.
“We should take a look at her desk,” Mr. Solberg told her. He led Chloe to a small desk in a back corner, painted white. A tiny, almost thread-bare stuffed rabbit rested against a mug holding pens and pencils. Her son’s? Chloe touched the toy with a finger.
In the top drawer they found neat stacks of bills and canceled checks. “Were you aware of any financial difficulties Mrs. Lundquist was experiencing?” Chloe asked, uncomfortably aware that she sounded more like Officer McKenna than herself. “Property tax payments, a medical problem, anything like that?”
He waved that idea aside. “No. She wasn’t rich, but Jack’s insurance policy left her provided for. She took pills for arthritis, but that’s it. Not like me. I take seven different medications.”
“Then I don’t think we’d learn anything helpful by examining her finances,” Chloe said. The idea of pawing through the dead woman’s bank records felt just too intrusive.
The second desk drawer held packets of yellowed thank-you notes, half-used boxes of faded Christmas cards, one unopened package