Mining for Justice Read online

  Sixteen

  By noon Investigator Higgins had documented the scene and asked to speak with Chloe again. They sat at a picnic table in the sunshine near the row house. “Just a few more questions, Ms. Ellefson. Are you aware of any animosity that might have existed between Ms. Miller and anyone here on staff?”

  Chloe tried not to fidget. “Well, Ms. Miller was very critical of the site and the way it’s interpreted. She even said so at a town meeting Monday night. So … I suspect she isn’t anyone’s favorite person. Wasn’t.”

  “What was the nature of Ms. Miller’s criticism?”

  “She seemed to believe that her vision of the interpretive approach at Pendarvis was the only correct vision.”

  “I see.”

  “But people here are professionals,” Chloe assured him. “Claudia Doyle was quite polite in the face of Ms. Miller’s negativity.”

  The investigator looked unconvinced. “And have you seen or spoken with Ms. Doyle since you and I talked earlier?”

  “No,” Chloe admitted. Claudia’s continued absence was making her increasingly anxious.

  Once the detective released Chloe, she checked quickly with Evelyn. “Any sign of Claudia? Or did she call?”

  Evelyn shook her head. Her face had a pinched look. “I called her house, thinking maybe she got sick and went home. No answer. I’m worried. This isn’t like her.”

  Chloe chewed her lower lip. She didn’t know where else to look.

  “You had a call,” Evelyn reported. “Midge at the Mineral Point archives, wondering if you were planning to stop by today.”

  “Oh Lordie.” Nothing like having a body literally fall at your feet, Chloe thought, to drive all else from your mind.

  “You go on, if you want.” Evelyn reached for her cane. “The interpreters will spell themselves, but I’ll give Audrey a break in the gift shop.”

  Chloe hesitated. She hated leaving the site when Yvonne was dead, Claudia was missing, and everyone was upset. Still, she couldn’t think of anything truly helpful she could do here if she skipped her lunch break and stayed. Besides, she was aware of a clock ticking in her brain. She wanted to bring some morsel of comfort—or at least information—to Tamsin. “Thanks,” she told Evelyn. “I guess I will.”

  Chloe gobbled the cheese sandwich she’d brought with her before dashing back to the public library. Midge greeted Chloe warmly.

  “I don’t have a lot of time,” Chloe said apologetically, “but I’d like to pick up where I left off with the 1930s newspapers.”

  “No need. I reviewed everything from 1930 to 1936.”

  Chloe’s mouth opened with astonishment. “You did? But … ”

  Midge shrugged. “I’m a professional snoop. I’m also Tamsin’s friend, and intrigued by the discovery of human remains in her old house. You obviously didn’t have a lot of time for the search, so I thought I’d give you a hand.”

  “That is incredibly kind,” Chloe said. “Any luck?”

  “I’m afraid not. There was no reference to a missing person.”

  “Darn.” Chloe perched on the edge of one of the tables. “I need a new strategy. I have to narrow the search parameters somehow.”

  “There might have been another period when the house was vacant,” Midge said.

  “Or it’s always possible that someone who lived in the house in the early years was responsible for the burial.” Chloe rubbed her temples. “I think the next step is to compile property records, and then see what I can discover about each owner. Where would you suggest I start?”

  Midge tapped a pencil against her notepad thoughtfully. “Given how old that cottage is, it’s a bit complicated.”

  Of course it is, Chloe thought.

  “The government originally leased all mineral land, but that system was pretty corrupt and difficult to monitor. That led to people settling where they shouldn’t, so good luck sorting that period out. The feds gave up in 1836, and gave people who’d been settled on a plot first right to get a patent certificate, but lots of men got their patents and then turned around and sold them for profit. Historians estimate that three-quarters of the land sales were illegal.”

  I need a month, Chloe thought.

  “Subsequent deeds are filed at the county courthouse in Dodgeville. Mineral Point was incorporated as a village in 1844, four years before statehood, and we have tax records from that point on. Now, if we can come up with names, it would be good to check marriage and birth indices in Madison. Census records are peculiar.”

  Of course they are, Chloe thought.

  “Territorial censuses were taken in the 1830s and ’40s, when the bigwigs were keeping close count with an eye toward statehood, but the information they gathered was erratic. It’s worth checking, but there were so many people coming and going, so many people living out at their mines or boarding wherever they could find floor space, it’s tricky to get a good picture.”

  Chloe began mentally composing her apology to Tamsin for finding absolutely nothing.

  Midge grinned. “Would you like me to look into it for you?”

  “I would be eternally grateful,” Chloe said humbly.

  “I’ll get started. The register of deeds is a friend of mine. But there are other people who know a lot about Mineral Point history, and might have heard a story that I have not. You could start with Evelyn Bainbridge.”

  Chloe remembered Claudia saying that Evelyn had lived her whole life in Mineral Point, but it hadn’t occurred to her to consult the volunteer receptionist about the body in Chy Looan. “I will, thanks.”

  Chloe spent the rest of her lunch break flipping through faded photocopies in the Crime and Mineral Point—General folders in the vertical files, without finding any reference to a missing person or suspected foul play.

  “I’ll try to get back tomorrow,” she told Midge. “Thank you again for your help.”

  Inside the house, Roel­ke found Deirdre playing with her dollhouse in the living room. Libby was curled on the sofa watching her. He sat down beside her. “He’s gone,” he murmured. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. A little confused, maybe. I don’t think she knew what to do when Dan showed up. But you know how easygoing she is.”

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah. I need to be solid when Justin gets home.”

  “You will talk to the Palmyra police about this. They’ve already had the call from Justin’s principal.”

  Libby swiped her eyes with the back of one hand. “Yes. I will.”

  “Did Deirdre say anything about what happened?”

  “She said they just drove around before he brought her home.”

  “He only wanted to keep her long enough to panic you.”

  She looked at him with still-damp eyes. “What am I going to do, Roel­ke? I can’t keep the kids locked in the house all the time.”

  Roel­ke scrubbed his face with his palms. He was a cop. He was supposed to have answers to questions like this. And he did not. “The first thing to do is see what the Palmyra cops recommend.” It was not much of a response.

  He pushed to his feet. “I have to get the squad back to Eagle. Call me if anything else happens, and I’ll talk to you later for sure. Lock the door behind me.”

  “Thank you, Roel­ke, for always being there for me and the kids.” Libby got up, too, and gave him a quick, hard hug. “All I could think to do was call you.”

  Roel­ke was glad Libby had called him. He would have been upset if she hadn’t. But, he thought as he slid behind the wheel, he hadn’t done a damn thing. He hadn’t been successful in warning Raymo off. He hadn’t been able to put Libby’s fears to rest.

  “Sometimes,” he muttered, “I suck at being a cop.”

  When Chloe got back to Pendarvis she started toward the office, but veered when she spotted Loren sitti
ng alone on a bench, staring across Shake Rag Street toward Dark Hill. He’d yet to change from period garb to director-casual clothes. He looked like a dejected miner.

  “Loren?” she asked hesitantly. “Am I disturbing you?”

  “What?” He looked up, clearly startled. “Oh. No.”

  She glanced at the empty curb. “It looks as if everybody’s gone.”

  “Yes. The coroner came and went. The investigator left. The school groups have even come and gone.”

  “Is the site open?”

  “We are, yes.” But his voice was flat, as if it didn’t matter to him one way or another. Chloe couldn’t help wondering if he’d had more of a relationship with Yvonne Miller than anyone knew.

  “No one’s found Claudia,” he said. “It doesn’t look good.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Chloe demanded, then swallowed hard. “Sorry, it’s just that—you can’t believe Claudia had anything to do with Dr. Miller’s death.”

  “No, of course not. But Investigator Higgins knows that Claudia accompanied Dr. Miller into Polperro House this morning. Soon after that, you discover Dr. Miller’s body, and Claudia has disappeared.”

  He’s right, Chloe thought reluctantly. It didn’t look good. She rubbed her palms on her trousers. “I’m worried about her.”

  “I am too.” Loren shook his head. “And I’m worried about the damage this tragedy will do to Pendarvis. I don’t mean to sound crass or unfeeling, but the timing couldn’t be worse.”

  It took a moment for Chloe to catch on. “Because of the budget mess? But this has nothing to do with that.”

  “No, but it’s bad publicity.”

  “This will pass,” Chloe tried. “Dr. Miller’s death was a horrible tragedy, but it was surely an accident.”

  “I had high hopes for new programming,” Loren said, as if she hadn’t spoken. “But nothing is going according to plan. Gerald and I have worked hard to establish the badger hole on Dark Hill, but this morning I found evidence that kids got in there and messed around.”

  Chloe’s cheeks grew hot. Toying with Gerald was one thing. She’d been so relieved to get out of the damn hole that it hadn’t occurred to her that the toeholds she’d hacked into the wall would alarm Loren.

  “ … clearly been down in the hole,” he was saying. “And the stakes and safety rope we’d rigged around it were ripped up and tossed into the bushes.”

  “Wait … what?” Chloe looked up sharply. When she’d left the badger hole the evening before, the safety rope had been in place. “They were?”

  “They were.” Loren sighed. “Well. I need to get back to my office.”

  “I know I’m a guest here,” Chloe said, “but please let me know how I can be helpful.”

  “I can’t think of anything right now,” he said. “But thank you.” He trudged away.

  Chloe frowned after him. Yes, Loren had a whole lot to worry about. But as site director, he also needed to rally the troops. Sitting on a bench and brooding was perhaps not the best way to bolster staff morale.

  And … what was going on at the badger hole? It had stormed off and on for most of the night. Who would have ventured up there in the rainy darkness? Or had someone slogged there at dawn to vandalize the badger hole? It didn’t make sense.

  She remembered the sensation she’d had the evening before, right before tumbling ass over teakettle into the badger hole, of someone putting a hand against her back. Had she been pushed? This morning, by the lemon light of dawn, the idea had seemed preposterous. But now Dr. Miller had taken a fall too …

  “Um, Chloe?”

  Chloe looked over her shoulder and saw Rita, carrying something wrapped in a shawl. “Hi, Rita.”

  “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I saw you sitting here, and it must have been just horrible to find Dr. Miller this morning, and … I just thought you might like a cup of tea.” She looked over both shoulders before producing a Thermos. “We’ve got an electric pot.”

  “How thoughtful!” Chloe accepted the plastic cup carefully, absurdly touched by the kind gesture. Her thoughts had been going in a dark direction, and the distraction was welcome. “Can you sit for a few minutes?”

  “Um, sure.” Rita seemed surprised by the invitation. “There aren’t any visitors on site.” She perched on the bench. “What happened to Dr. Miller is just so—so awful.”

  “It is,” Chloe agreed. “Did you know her well?”

  “No. I’d met her, of course. She’s been around a lot. She … she went on one of my tours one time.” Rita’s mouth twisted. “She didn’t say a word on the tour, but she kind of chewed me out afterwards.”

  Chloe sighed. “Why on earth … ?”

  “She said I neglected a lot of important information about Mineral Point’s early years.” Rita tucked a stray strand of blond hair under her cap. “But all the things I talked about were themes from the interpretive plan.”

  “I’m sure it was a fine tour,” Chloe said firmly. “Claudia was telling me how glad she was you were able to stay through the fall. I know you’re looking for a permanent job in the history field. The market’s tight, so try not to get discouraged.”

  “I’m trying.” Rita slouched back against the bench, sounding and looking extremely discouraged. “My father didn’t want me to go to college at all. He said it was a waste of money. I was determined to prove him wrong, so I went where I most wanted to go, which was Marquette.”

  Which was much more expensive than a public school. “I can only imagine how scary it is to know the historical society is considering closing Pendarvis,” Chloe said.

  Rita nodded. “I’m really sorry that Gerald’s been rude to you. He’s a nice guy, actually. He’s just angry about the situation.”

  “I know.” Chloe sipped her tea. “It makes me angry too. But I was really impressed by all the good energy at the meeting Monday evening. I can’t believe the society will really close the site, not in the face of so many people determined to save it.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Loren and Claudia have lots of good ideas, new initiatives … ” Chloe waved her free hand at Dark Hill. “I love the idea of an interpretive trail and prairie restoration. That hill fascinates me. Maybe it’s simply knowing that it was once covered with miners.”

  “I hope they don’t ask me to do any interpreting over there.” Rita looked dubious. “I don’t think it’s safe.”

  Chloe eyed her over the mug. “Loren feels it is.”

  “I grew up on a farm near here, and I guess I just heard too many stories about people getting lost in old mines, or hurt or killed in cave-ins. Once my dad was plowing in a field we’d used for years, and his tractor broke through and landed in a mineshaft. Fortunately it was shallow and he was okay.” She got to her feet. “Well, I better go. I need to dust in Trelawny House.”

  “Thanks for the tea, Rita.”

  She smiled. “You can just take the cup back to the kitchen in the office when you’re done.”

  Sipping her tea, Chloe couldn’t help thinking that she’d done a lousy job of lifting Rita’s spirits. But truth was, Chloe felt as if she were clogging in quicksand. It was Wednesday already, and other than the work done in the collections storage area the day before, she hadn’t really been of much help to Claudia. She hadn’t learned anything remotely helpful about the skeleton found in Chy Looan, either.

  A delivery truck rumbled down Shake Rag Street, startling Chloe from her reverie. Okay, that’s enough brooding for you too, she admonished herself. She should be setting a good example as well. Back to work. A quick look-see around Polperro House seemed like a good idea.

  The police had searched the historic home, leaving a few items out of place. Chloe refastened the rope intended to keep visitors from the root cellar, inched a large crock back out of the traffic flow, smoothed a wool blanket int
o place on a bed. It could have been worse.

  She later found Rita in Pendarvis House with several senior citizens, and Gerald in the re-created pub with a small homeschool group. The gift shop was empty except for Audrey, who was reading a paperback romance behind the counter. “Everything okay?” Chloe asked.

  “It is,” Audrey said, “but I appreciate you asking.”

  In the office, Evelyn was clattering away at the typewriter. “Have a good visit to the archives?”

  “Actually, no luck so far. I’m trying to discover if there are any tales about an unsolved murder, or a man disappearing, floating around Mineral Point.”

  “Is this about the skeleton Adam found in Tamsin’s old place?”

  I don’t know why I even aim to be discreet, Chloe thought. “Yes. Adam and Tamsin are friends of mine. The cottage sat empty in the early thirties, but the newspapers don’t mention anyone disappearing during that period. Midge suggested I ask if you remember any old stories about a murder, or a missing person.”

  Evelyn looked pleased to have her grasp of local history acknowledged. “Actually, I think you’re on the right track, regardless of newspaper reports. Consider the times, Chloe. Zinc and lead prices collapsed after World War I, and lots of men lost their jobs. The biggest employer in the area, a smelter, shut down in 1929. The local bank failed three times. Those were bad years for Mineral Point.”

  “Those stone cottages were already a century old,” Chloe mused.