Inspector Queen’s Own Case

“I’ll have to think about it.” And Humffrey rose with an imperious gesture of dismissal.

The physician was red-faced when he came into the adjoining bedroom for a final look at his patient. He snapped some instructions to Jessie and left.

It was Dr. Wicks’s last visit to Sarah Humffrey.

On Wednesday afternoon Jessie heard the door open and looked up from her patient’s bedside to see Alton Humffrey crooking a bony forefinger at her.

“Can you leave her for a few minutes, Miss Sherwood?”

“I’ve just had to give her another hypo.”

“Come into my study, please.”

She followed him across the hall to the study. He indicated an armchair, and Jessie sat down. He went to the picture window and stood there, his back to her.

“Miss Sherwood, I’m closing this house.”

“Oh?” Jessie said.

“I’ve been considering the move for some time. Stallings will stay on as caretaker. Henry and Mrs. Lenihan will go along with me to the New York apartment. I’m sending Mrs. Charbedeau and the maids back to the Concord house. The best part of the summer is gone, anyway.”

“You’re intending to spend most of your time in New York?”

“All winter, I should think.”

“The change ought to be good for Mrs. Humffrey.”

“Mrs. Humffrey is not coming with me.” His voice was nasally casual. “I’m sending her to a sanitarium.”

“I’m glad,” Jessie said. “She needs sanitarium care badly. I heard Dr. Wicks telling you yesterday about a place in Great Barrington—”

“Wicks.” The narrow shoulders twitched. “In matters as important as this, Miss Sherwood, one doesn’t rely on the Wickses of this world. No, she’s not going to Great Barrington.”

It’s the psychiatry that’s scared you off, Jessie thought. “May I ask which sanitarium you’ve picked out, Mr. Humffrey?” She tried to keep her voice as casual as his.

She thought his long body gathered itself in. But then she decided she had been mistaken. When he turned he was smiling faintly.

“It’s a convalescent home, really — that’s all nonsense about her need for psychiatric treatment. Mrs. Humffrey is in a highly nervous state, that’s all. What she requires is complete rest and privacy in secluded surroundings, and I’m told there’s no better place in the East for that than the Duane Sanitarium in New Haven.”

Jessie nodded. She knew several nurses who had worked there — one, Elizabeth Currie, had been on Dr. Samuel Duane’s nursing staff for eight years. The sanitarium was an elaborate closet for distinguished skeletons, restricted to a rigidly classified clientele at exclusive rates. It was surrounded by a tall brick wall topped with four-foot pickets ending in lance points, and it was patrolled by a private police force.

Exactly the sort of place Alton Humffrey would choose! Jessie thought. Once Sarah Humffrey was safely inside Dr. Duane’s luxurious prison, her husband could relax. Dr. Duane’s guards could smell a reporter miles away.

“When is Mrs. Humffrey leaving?” Jessie asked.

“This evening. Dr. Duane is calling for her personally in a sanitarium limousine, with a nurse in attendance.”

“Has Mrs. Humffrey been told?” At the millionaire’s frown, Jessie added hastily, “The reason I ask, Mr. Humffrey, is that I’ve got to know just how to handle preparing her to go away—”

“I haven’t told her, no. Dr. Duane prefers that I break the news when he’s present.”

“You’ll be going out with her?”

“I don’t know. That will depend entirely on Duane.” His wedge of face lengthened. “You’ll keep all this confidential, of course, Miss Sherwood.”

“Of course.”

He went over to his desk, sat down, and began to write a check. She watched his long white fingers at their deliberate work, the little finger curled in hiding, as secretive as the rest of him.

“I suppose this means,” Jessie said, “that you want me to leave as soon as possible.”

“Oh, nothing like that. You’re entirely welcome to stay on for a few days. The staff isn’t leaving until next week some time.”

“I’m a restless sort, Mr. Humffrey. It’s kind of you, but I think I’ll go tomorrow morning.”

“As you wish.”

He blotted the check carefully and reached over to lay it on the desk near her.

“Oh, but Mr. Humffrey,” Jessie protested. “This is far too much. You’re paid up through last week—”

“I see no reason why you should be penalized by my sudden decision about Mrs. Humffrey,” he said, smiling. “So I’ve paid you for a full week, and I’ve added a little something in appreciation of all you’ve done for Mrs. Humffrey and Michael.”

“A little something.” Jessie shook her head. The bonus was five hundred dollars. “You’re awfully kind, Mr. Humffrey, but I really can’t accept this.”

“Heavens, Miss Sherwood. Why not?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“Well...” Her hands felt clammy. But she looked straight at him. “Frankly, Mr. Humffrey, I’d rather not be under obligation to you.”

“I don’t understand.” Now his tone was icy.

“It’s hard too...” Jessie stopped. There was no way to say it but to say it. But somehow she could not. “If I felt differently about little Michael, I could take this. As it is, I’d rather not.”