Chasing a Blond Moon(6)

“History of heart problems, anything like that?”

Adams said, “He hunted and fished and hiked a lot. He was a tad overweight, but he seemed to be in good enough shape.”

“What was his reputation up to the college?” Pyykkonen asked.

Adams contemplated the question. “Harry isn’t one to make a good first impression. He’s a bit gruff and direct, but when you get to know him, he’s fine. First week of classes I had students bitching, but then they settled in and his student evaluations were excellent. He worked the kids hard. In Korea, it was tough to get slots in good schools and Harry thought students here ought to be as serious about their work.”

“His colleagues like him?”

“Harry pretty much sticks to himself. He serves on department committees and does solid work. People think he’s a bit eccentric, but hell, that’s almost a badge of honor in academia.”

“What did he hunt?” Service asked. Adams was still in present tense, had not processed the reality of Pung’s death.

Adams shrugged. “Beats me. Lots of hunters and fishermen on the faculty, but Harry pretty much does his own thing.”

“You said he was divorced?” Pyykkonen asked.

“Before he came here,” Adams said.

“When was that?” Pyykkonen said.

“A year ago this month.”

“From where?”

“Virginia Tech. He was a real catch for us. He has an international reputation in structural materials.”

“Like cement?” Pyykkonen asked.

Adams showed a hint of academic superiority. “He’s working on heat-resistant materials to be used for heat-shielding in high-speed aircraft.”

“Government contracts?”

“No, but they’re most certainly in the offing. His work is just getting recognized by the Department of Defense. His work to date has been more involved with the chemistry than applications, but he was moving into applications.”

“Sounds like a smart guy,” Pyykkonen said.

“He was,” Adams said after a pause.

“He have kids?”

Adams again pondered the question. “One son I know of: Tunhow. He was a student here last year, but transferred to U of M this fall.”

“The son have problems here?” Pyykkonen asked.

“Not book-wise. The boy made dean’s list both semesters. Came in with great credentials.”

“Engineering?”

“Zoology,” Adams said, glancing at his watch.

Service said, “You said no problems book-wise. Were there other kinds of problems?”

“Standard stuff—booze in his dorm room, fake ID—nothing major. The kids here hit the books hard and the competition is tough. Some students play hard to offset the pressure. Is there anything else?”

“No, sir,” Pyykkonen said. “We appreciate your help.”

“You need anything else, you be sure to give a shout, eh?”

“Yooper?” Pyykkonen asked.

Adams looked embarrassed as he turned back to face her. “Slips out, ya know? Yah sure, born and raised over to Rock.”

Pyykkonen’s question didn’t surprise Service. Yoopers had a tendency to try to identify each other, as if place of birth conferred a certain level of verisimilitude.

When the professor was gone, Pyykkonen and the sheriff exchanged glances. “Not all that broken up,” Pyykkonen said.

“Let’s get on inside,” the chief said.

The foyer was standard western, with a closet and a high ceiling. From the foyer they moved into a long room with a rough-hewn wood floor.

Pyykkonen said to nobody in particular, “Should we take off our shoes?”

“Nobody to bitch if we don’t,” Chief Macofome said.

The first room was huge, perhaps twenty by forty feet, with a squat black enameled table in the center. The table was surrounded by embroidered black satin pillows. There was a huge digital TV in one corner. No books, no flowers. The ceiling was covered with jade green colored paper. There was a sliding glass door at the end of the room, looking out on a garden that seemed to be a collection of small twisted trees, plots of raked sand, and boulders of various sizes, shapes, and colors. The base of the walls on both sides of the room was lined with low chests of drawers. Some of the chests had pillows on them.

“Not my idea of cozy,” Service said, the barren interior reminding him vaguely of how he had lived in his own place before he had fallen in love with Maridly Nantz and moved in with her. Nantz had brought a distinctly positive change to his life. What effect his son would have remained up for grabs.

There was a bedroom that was barren except for a wide low bed with nightstands and bulbous brown lamps on them. The bed was centered on a mat that looked to Service like varnished paper. Behind the bed there was a large, stark painting of a creature that had a lion’s mane and a longish snout, like a combination of a lion and wolf, but it was not so much a wolf as something else, which Service couldn’t place. He studied the painting for a few moments and gave up. As in the main room, there were cumbersome wooden chests along one wall.