The Body in the Fjord by Katherine Hall Page

It’s in a glass case high up on the wall. This one is extremely elaborate and very rare. During the 1800s in Norway, silver became scarce and many families turned their old heirlooms over to the state to be melted down. Brass was used instead for jewelry.”
    â€œI did see it,” Helene enthused. “It’s gorgeous. Is the collection cataloged? I saw a bowl that looks like it was painted by the ‘Sogndal painter’—this area around the Sognefjord has spectacular natural beauty, but it hasn’t produced the art that other areas have, particularly those on the east coast and in Telemark. Too rugged a life, toopoor, but this painter—we don’t even know his name—is the exception. He traveled all over the region in the mid-eighteenth century, which must have been difficult, and no other rosemaling has ever equaled his.”
    â€œI know the bowl you mean,” Carl said. “The colors are so bright and the background is very soft, the blue-green he traditionally used. Very beautiful.”
    â€œAnd worth a fortune,” Jan added. “If we had anything like it in my family, we probably used it for kindling. I grew up in the district and life was strictly practical!” He laughed.
    Helene looked pained. “I hope not.” The salmon arrived on a huge platter. There was enough for two tables.
    â€œOf course I am teasing you,” Jan told Helene. “My mother has her great-grandmother’s engagement spoons, and if there was a fire, she’d grab those, then think of us!” It seemed impossible for the young man not to make a joke out of most remarks.
    â€œEngagement spoons are two spoons connected by a long chain all elaborately carved out of one piece of wood,” Helene explained.
    â€œI like the symbolism.” Ursula was busy helping herself to the fish. Pix could see it was perfectly poached, moist flakes falling to one side. There was hollandaise sauce, but Pix knew she wanted hers plain.
    â€œWe will leave you to enjoy your dinner,” Carl said. “We have a few announcements we’ll make during dessert.”
    Pix tried in vain during the rest of the meal to turn the conversation to Kari and Erik’s quarrel on the train, but short of rudeness, it proved impossible to get Helene off her favorite subject. They heard a great deal about tiner , the butter and pudding boxes used to bring gifts of food to relatives or friends at weddings or other occasions, and much more about jewelry, especially bunadss olv , wedding jewelry.
    â€œI wonder if modern Norwegians are as superstitious as their ancestors,” Ursula mused after a treatise fromHelene about the use of silver to keep the trolls, those direct descendants of the Viking pagan gods, from harming mortals.
    â€œThere is certainly a renewed interest in the old jewelry and its use and legends. Saga makes wonderful reproductions, with an explanation accompanying each piece. As for warding off evil, I’m not sure. I know I said Norwegians are exuberant, but they also seem remarkably down-to-earth and even-tempered.”
    It was now or never.
    Pix put down her fork. Her plate was clean; so was the fish platter. “Yet not without passion. I understand the tour had some sort of tragic incident before we joined you, a double suicide by two lovers.” She stifled the urge to give Ursula an apologetic glance. “They ran away together, then apparently took their own lives.”
    Helene stiffened and the color drained from her face. Arnie looked annoyed.
    â€œWell,” he said.
    â€œNo, we can’t not talk about it, Arnie. Apparently rumors abound.” She pushed a stray strand of gray hair behind her ear to join the others loosely gathered in an ornate barrette at the nape of her neck. Then she waited while their plates were cleared and the table was swept clean of the crumbs their crusty dinner rolls had produced.
    â€œKari and Erik were working as