Monument to the Dead Read Online Free

background, and it’s more fun talking to you than Googling
     the deceased.”
    His drink arrived and we both took a brief time-out to fortify ourselves. Then I said,
     “Why don’t you tell me what you’re looking for?”
    James contemplated the depths of his drink for a few seconds before responding. “Nell,
     I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”
    Even though I’d been expecting something like this, his statement chilled me: if he
     was worried, then I should be, too. “Why?” I prompted.
    “Maybe being around you has made me more sensitive to anything to do with the cultural
     community, but I get nervous when the people involved start dying.”
    “What was suspicious about Adeline’s death?” Then the fuller meaning of his words
     hit me. “Wait a minute. You said ‘people,’ as in more than one person?”
    “Tell me what you’ve got on Adeline first, and then I’ll fill you in.”
    “All right. You know that Adeline was a former Society board member, so of course
     we have a full file on her. She’s been a consistent supporter since she left the board,
     and she came to the occasional event. There’s nothing out of the ordinary in her file
     for someone of her age and social profile. Widowed, left comfortably off. No children.
     A nice home, inherited, filled with some lovely things, or so say the notes in her
     file—I was never in the house. We’re hoping for a modest bequest from her estate,
     but we weren’t her only interest, so whatever she left may be spread around. Does
     that tell you anything?”
    “It’s more or less what I expected.”
    “Then what are you looking for? When you called me up to ask for background information,
     I had to assume it wasn’t just a burglar breaking into her home or a mugging on the
     street.”
    He nodded. “What I’ve learned corresponds to what you just said. Adeline Harrison
     lived in an old home out in Delaware County. Lived alone, but she had someone in to
     clean for her twice a week. No local family checking in with her regularly, although
     she has some scattered grandnieces and -nephews. The cleaning woman found her when
     she arrived in the morning, two days ago. I got the preliminary results for the postmortem
     from the county ME a couple of hours later. No sign of trauma, but of course the toxicology
     reports will take a while.”
    “Poor woman. What leads you to think it was murder?”
    James sat back in his chair. “I wouldn’t have, except that I remembered another case
     in New Jersey, a few months ago—one Frederick Van Deusen. Ring any bells?” When I
     shook my head, he went on, “Same scenario: older person but male, socially connected
     but no near relatives, active in good works and was or had been on a couple of nonprofit
     boards, no sign of trauma. It certainly could have been a natural death, and no one
     would have thought twice about it. But since it was an unattended death, a full autopsy
     was done. Nothing out of place in the man’s toxicology screen, just the usual medications
     a person of his age would be taking, all duly prescribed, although some of the levels
     seemed a bit high. By the time anyone became suspicious, there was no crime scene
     to check—the house had already been cleaned up and was on the market.”
    “Anyone being you, I take it? What made you think there was anything suspicious about
     this death?”
    He smiled to himself. “Since I’ve met you, I’ve been more aware of the extended cultural
     community around here—I’ve got a computer program set up to search on certain specific
     terms, and I take a quick look at whatever pops up. Van Deusen fit the profile. That’s
     why I took a second look at the case, and why I noticed the elevated medication. But
     it wasn’t significant enough to pursue.”
    “But I still don’t understand. Why were you involved at all? Even if that was a murder,
     shouldn’t it be a local matter in New Jersey?”
    “It was. But I knew enough