An Elderly Lady Is Up to No Good by Helene Tursten

Author:Helene Tursten
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Crime Fiction
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2018-08-30T19:42:03+00:00

(2007)

The Antique Dealer’s Death

The Antique Dealer’s Death

I had recently retired and was strolling aimlessly around Stockholm one fine spring day, enjoying the sunshine. As usual I was without a companion. Walking alone was something I had grown accustomed to after losing my wife a couple of years earlier. In spite of my children and grandchildren, I sometimes felt a little lonely. After a few failed attempts at dating I had almost given up hope of finding a new partner, but suddenly there she was, in the middle of Stureplan. She stopped me as I was passing by.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where the Mushroom is?” she asked with a distinctive Gothenburg accent. She was so pretty, with her sparkling nut-brown eyes and curly blonde hair that at first I was completely tongue-tied. Eventually I managed to speak.

“If you turn around and look up, you’ll see it.”

She spun on her heel and gazed up at the concrete structure known as the Mushroom, for the simple reason that it looks exactly like one. Originally built to provide shelter from the rain for anyone waiting for a cab, the Mushroom became so well-known that people often arranged to meet there these days.

“Are you meeting someone?” I asked tentatively.

She broke into a dazzling smile. “Yes—you!”

Six months later we were married.

Mary is ten years younger than me, and back then she was still working as a cartographer for the highways department in Gothenburg. She had inherited a wonderful apartment in the city center from her parents—in Vasastan, to be exact. It’s now been twenty-seven years since I moved in with her and became a citizen of Gothenburg.

I’m sure you remember that June and July this year were rainy and pretty chilly, while August surprisingly turned into one long heat wave. Just as the warm weather arrived, our fine old apartment block was being cleaned. The housing association had decided it was time for the façade to have a much-needed facelift. The noise of the pressure washers started up at seven in the morning. The racket was enervating, and the protective sheet that hung over the building made the apartment quite dark. By the second week of the renovation project, we were heartily sick of the whole thing. Mary decided we should pack our swimming gear and a picnic lunch and take the number four streetcar out to Saltholmen. From there we usually hop on the first boat heading for one of the islands in the archipelago. It doesn’t cost any more than an ordinary trip on the streetcar, and we retirees travel free on weekends and during the daytime from Monday to Friday.

We went down in the elevator, but when we came to step out, we could hardly get the door open. The entire landing and the staircase leading to the main entrance were crawling with police. The door of Maud’s apartment was ajar, and I could see even more officers in the hallway.

What was going on? Had something happened to the old lady? Well, I say “old,” but she’s only a couple of years older than me, to be fair.

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