Becca said, “We wanted you to know what we found in your husband’s storage unit.”

“Goodness. I hope nothing gruesome,” Mrs. Murphy said with an uneasy laugh, “or embarrassing.”

“Nothing like that,” Becca said. She looked across at Emily.

“I got into the storage unit yesterday,” Emily said. “It’s packed with all kinds of stuff. Books. Prints. Doorknobs.”

That made Mrs. Murphy smile. “Murph loved old hardware. His father was in construction.” She glanced across at her husband’s picture on the piano. Seeing it again, Emily was struck by how distinguished-looking Mr. Murphy had been, with his thick white hair and dark eyes, more like the son of a matinee idol than a builder. “He used to talk about how whenever Big Charlie worked on an old house, he’d bring home thingamabobs, like doorknobs and hinges. I remember he brought home a garden statue of the Virgin Mary. They called it Our Lady of the Bathtub. He wanted to put it in their backyard, but Kathleen said absolutely not. Once he brought home a stained glass window. That one, she let him install in their front door. But most of what he brought home he kept in his workshop.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I had no idea Murph kept any of it, but then, I didn’t care for it and it never occurred to me to ask.”

It sounded altogether plausible that Murph had moved his father’s thingamabobs directly into storage. He certainly hadn’t installed choice antique hardware in his own house. The pulls on the kitchen doors and cabinets were ordinary stainless steel.

“There’s quite a collection of books,” Emily said, taking out her cell phone and showing Mrs. Murphy some of the pictures she’d taken. “Their condition’s iffy. Climate control seems to have failed. Mold and moisture do a number on paper. But there’s also document tubes like this one.” She showed Mrs. Murphy the one she’d taken with her that contained the “Map of the Northeast.” She opened it, slipped out the map, and unrolled it. “See, it’s in excellent condition.”

Mrs. Murphy just sat there looking perplexed. “Of course, I knew Murph had a thing about old books and maps. But I had no idea he collected them.”

Emily didn’t add, Or that he kept them in a secret storage unit.

“The hardware won’t be hard to sell,” Emily said. “Folks who restore old buildings will be lining up to take it off your hands. Some of the books may be salvageable. And there may be significant value in the documents. But provenance is an issue.”

“Provenance?” Mrs. Murphy sat forward, examining the map more carefully. She looked across at Emily.

“How your husband acquired them. Who owned them before.” Emily pointed at the library stamp in the map’s lower margin. “That stamp. It’s the Blaine Library’s.”