Inspector Queen’s Own Case

The woman shook her head vigorously and pointed to the pram. He walked down to the beach end of the dock and made his way across the sand toward her. It was beautiful sand, clean as a laundered tablecloth, and he had the uneasy feeling that he should not be making tracks in it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking off his hat. “Did I wake the baby?”

The nurse was stooping over the carriage intently. She straightened up, smiling.

“No harm done. He sleeps like a little top.”

Richard Queen thought he had never seen a nicer smile. She was big and wholesome-looking; her pretty nose was peeling from sunburn. Close to fifty, he judged, but only because he had had long experience in such matters. To the amateur eye she would pass for forty.

She drew him off from the pram a little way. “Did you say you were out of gas?”

“Forgot to check the tank before I shoved off. It’s not my boat,” he said apologetically, “and I’m afraid I’m not much of a sailor. I just about made it to your dock when I saw your pump.”

“You’re a trespasser,” she said with her crinkly smile. “This is private property.”

“Nair Island,” he nodded. “But I’m desperate. Would you allow me to buy some juice for that contraption?”

“You’d have to ask Mr. Humffrey, the owner, but I’m sure it wouldn’t do you any good. He’d like as not call the Taugus police.”

“Is he home?” The old man grinned at the picture of Abe Pearl running over to Nair Island to arrest him.

“No.” She laughed. “They’ve taken the cabin cruiser down to Larchmont to watch some yacht racing. Mrs. Humffrey hasn’t stuck her nose out of the house since the baby came.”

“Then if I helped myself nobody would know?”

“I’d know,” she retorted.

“Let me take a few gallons. I’ll send Mr. Humffrey a check.”

“You’ll get me in trouble...”

“I won’t even mention your name,” he said solemnly. “By the way, what is it?”

“Sherwood. Jessie Sherwood.”

“My name is Richard Queen, Mrs. Sherwood.”

“Miss Sherwood, Mr. Queen.”

“Oh,” he said. “Glad to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Nurse Sherwood murmured.

For some absurd reason they both smiled. The sun on the old man felt good. The blue sky, the sparks flying off the water, the salt breeze, everything felt good.

“I really don’t have any place to go, Miss Sherwood,” he said. “Why don’t we sit down and visit?”

The crinkles went out of her smile. “If it got back to Mr. and Mrs. Humffrey that I’d entertained a strange man on the beach while I was minding the baby they’d discharge me, and they’d be perfectly right. And I’ve got awfully attached to little Michael. I’m afraid I can’t, Mr. Queen.”

Nice, he thought. Nice woman.

“Of course,” he said. “It’s my fault. But I thought... You see, I’m an old friend of Chief of Police Pearl’s of Taugus. In fact, I’m spending the summer with him and Mrs. Pearl in their shack on the beach.”

“Well!” she said. “I’m sure Mr. Humffrey wouldn’t mind that. It’s just that they’re so nervous about the baby.”

“Their first?”

“Well, yes.”

“They’re smart. Parents can’t be too careful about their children, especially if they’re rich.”

“The Humffreys are multimillionaires.”

“Chief Pearl tells me they’re all loaded on Nair Island. I remember a snatch case I investigated a few years ago—”

“Case? Are you a police officer, too, Mr. Queen?”

“Was,” he said. “In New York. But they retired me.”

“Retired you! At your age?”

He looked at her. “How old do you think I am?”

“About fifty-five.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I never just say things. Why, are you older?”

“I quote Section 434-a dash two one point 0 of the Administrative Code of the City of New York,” he said grimly, “which states as follows: ‘No member of the police force in the department except surgeons of police,’ etcetera, ‘who is or hereafter attains the age of 63 years shall continue to serve as a member of such force but shall be retired and placed on the pension rolls of the department.’” He added after a moment, “You see, I know it by heart.”

“Sixty-three.” She looked skeptical.

“My last birthday.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” she murmured.

From the depths of the pram came a squawk. Nurse Sherwood hurried to its source, and he followed. He could not helping taking in the curve of her hips, the youthful shoulders, the pretty legs and ankles.

It was just a cry in the baby’s sleep. “He’ll be waking up for his feeding soon,” she said softly, fussing with the netting. “Is your wife visiting with Chief and Mrs. Pearl, too?”

Strong hands.

“I’ve been a widower almost as long as you’re old, Miss Sherwood.”

“That’s impossible!” She laughed. “How old do you think I am?”

“Thirty-nine, forty,” he lied.

“Aren’t you sweet! I’ll be fifty in January. Why, I’ve been an R.N. for almost twenty-five years.”

“Oh, you’re a trained nurse. Is this a sick baby?”

“Heavens, no. He’s a sturdy little monkey.”