The Undertaker's Daughter (Ilka #1)(21)

Ilka nodded. That made sense. She set down the glass of orange juice she’d been drinking. “It’s very sweet of you, but you don’t have to take care of my breakfast. I don’t want anyone to be bothered because I’d rather stay here. It’s no problem for me to use the kitchen.”

“It’s no bother whatsoever,” the nun said. “I’m happy to help. The business is yours now, so if there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

She stood with her hands clasped in front of her.

Ilka nodded. True, the business was hers now, as if for one happy moment she could have forgotten.

She poured herself a cup of tea and walked over to the window. A woman was sitting on a bench by the parking lot, staring up at the room, or so it seemed. Hadn’t she been sitting there yesterday, too, when Ilka came home? Ilka leaned forward and studied her. “Do you know that woman on the bench down there?”

Sister Eileen shrugged. “Don’t worry about her,” she said, without even glancing outside. “Two men are waiting for you downstairs.”

Ilka looked at her in surprise. “Who?”

“Policemen. They would like to talk to you.” The nun grabbed the empty juice glass and headed for the door.

Ilka set her teacup down and checked the clothes she’d slept in. “Police! How long have they been waiting?”

“They arrived when I was about to come up with the tea. Go ahead and eat your breakfast; it won’t hurt them to wait. They could have called and let us know they were coming.”

Ilka promised to be ready in ten minutes. An idea suddenly came to her. “I’d like to give away all my father’s clothes to your parish, if you think they could use them. I could also take them there.”

Sister Eileen looked a bit confused for a second. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” She added that she could have them sent; Ilka wouldn’t have to bother. “If you’ll just sort them, so we can put them in plastic sacks. Thank you so much. I’m certain people will be very pleased.”



After the sister closed the door, Ilka gobbled down the two pieces of toast and found her toiletry bag. Ten minutes later, she stepped into the arrangement room where she’d sat with the Norton family the day before. “Can I help you?” She looked at the two police officers.

All sorts of thoughts had rushed through her head while she’d taken a lightning-quick shower and put on clean clothes. She still hadn’t sent the papers to her lawyer, so if the visit had anything to do with legal matters, she was very much on her own. Which she was anyway, no matter what the reason for their visit, she thought, as she studied the two uniformed men who had stood when she came in.

One of them was an older man with a thick, full beard; the other looked to be in his early thirties. He had strong features and broad shoulders. Ilka noticed the brown cardboard box on the floor beside them.

“Morning, ma’am!” the older officer said. He stuck his hand out and introduced himself as Officer Stan Thomas. He was trying—and failing—to hide how astonished he was by Ilka’s appearance. No doubt he wasn’t expecting a tall beanpole of a woman with wet hair, wearing jeans and sneakers.

Ilka held the hand of the younger policeman longer than necessary, mostly to see how he reacted. It didn’t seem to bother him; on the contrary, he smiled. “Officer Jack Doonan.”

“Sorry if we’re interrupting anything,” the other officer said.

Ilka was still looking at the younger man’s prominent chin and the line leading up to his cheekbone. His face was like something out of the comics, where masculine men looked as if they had been carved from granite. He’s on the list, she decided, even though he wasn’t exactly her type. The list of possible decent screws in Racine, which had only one name: his.

“You’re not interrupting anything.” She wrenched her eyes away. They weren’t here just to chat. Should she offer them something? Should she be a bit more aloof before she found out what was up? Would it be better to ask them to come back when Artie was around? He had messaged her once last night; he wasn’t coming in until the meeting with the Norton family. He’d worked until two in the morning and wanted to sleep in.

She cleared her throat when they sat down. “I’m sorry, would you repeat that?”

The officer nodded seriously. “We think we know who he is.” He leaned forward, as if he thought she might not understand English so well. “Is it Denmark, where you come from?”

Ilka nodded. “You think you know who who is?” She was confused, and now she was the one who leaned forward.

“At least we have a very strong suspicion of who he could be.”

“He,” she said, impatient now. “Who do you mean?”

“The man you picked up at the morgue yesterday.”

“Okay!” Her shoulders slumped. “And now you need to see him again?”

The younger officer shook his head, and he pointed down at the box to say something, but his partner beat him to it. “I would like to have a look at him, in fact.” He nodded. “We believe it’s a guy from here in town. He disappeared twelve years ago, but I knew him back when he was a boy. And I know his mother. His dental records are arriving later today, but we’re still waiting to hear from his former doctor. So, our identification isn’t confirmed yet, which is why we haven’t contacted his relatives.”