The Case of the Queenly Contestant

Ellen said, “There was a witness that we called on — a rather mature woman who had some information that would have been of value. We went to call on her. Mr. Mason wanted to talk with her.”

“Yeah, sure,” Wight said. “That’s a smart move. Let’s get the evidence rounded up.”

“We got there too late,” Ellen said. “She was dead.”

“Dead!”

“That’s right.”

“How come?”

“She had evidently been murdered,” Mason said.

“Murdered!” Wight exclaimed. “Say, what are you doing — trying to put one over on me? You don’t... good lord!”

Ellen said, “Mr. Mason feels that we may be questioned in some detail, and I wanted to come to you and explain the situation, and Mr. Mason wanted to talk with you.”

“Who was this jane?” Wight asked. “Anybody I know?”

“No one you know,” Ellen said. “She had been a nurse in San Francisco at the time you were born, and—”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Wight interrupted. “You don’t, by any chance, mean Agnes Burlington, do you?”

“Agnes Burlington!” his mother exclaimed. “Do you know her?”

“Why, sure.”

“How did you meet her?” Mason asked.

“She hunted me up,” Wight said.

“How long ago?”

“The first time was just after the Bairds died. She told me that I wasn’t the real son of August Baird, that Mrs. Baird had put up a job on him and palmed me off as his son.

“She said that if the facts were known I’d be penniless. She said that would be a great shame because it wasn’t my fault. She told me then that you were my real mother and a lot of stuff...”

“How much did you agree to pay her?” Mason asked.

“Ten per cent of whatever I inherited from the Bairds.”

“Why, Wight! You never told me about this!” Ellen exclaimed.

“She said not to. She told me not to tell anyone. She warned me against telling you in particular. She said I’d lose everything.”

“You paid her the ten per cent?” Mason asked.

“Yes.”

“When did you next see her after that?” Mason asked.

“Just a couple of days ago.”

“What did she want?”

“She told me that it might be possible I could inherit a very substantial sum of money and asked me what it would be worth to me percentage-wise if...”

“Why, Wight, you should have told me,” Ellen Adair said.

“Well, to tell you the truth. Mom, I never had much of a chance. I only see you briefly once in a while, and I thought this Burlington dame was talking through her hat, but I told her to go get me some money and she could have her percentage of it.”

“Did she say how much money?” Mason asked.

“She said quite a large sum of money.”

“You knew she had been a nurse in San Francisco?”

“That’s right. That first time she told me that she had been a nurse in San Francisco and she told me that she attended my mother when I was born — and that my parents weren’t the Bairds at all. I let her do the talking. I didn’t say very much.”

“You’re living here in this house alone?” Mason asked.

“That’s right. A woman comes in and keeps things clean; she does the dishes and makes the bed.”

“She comes in every day?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been in all day?” Mason asked.

“That’s right — had my nose buried in books.”

“Ellen Adair here has a key to the place?” Mason asked.

“Why, yes, sure, she has a key. She always rings the code signal when she comes, but she has a key and could get in if she wanted to.”

“If she had something she wanted to hide, is there any place here where she could leave it?”

“Dozens of places,” Wight said.

“Would you,” Mason asked, “mind if I looked around?”

Ellen Adair said, “Why, Mr. Mason, I wouldn’t think of leaving it here.”

“I was just asking questions,” Mason said.

The lawyer got-up, opened a door into a hallway, which disclosed a bathroom and two bedrooms.

“Which one of these is yours?” he asked the young man.

“That one right in front of you there.”

Mason went in, sniffed the air a couple of times, walked to the closet and opened the door.

A partially emptied quart bottle of whiskey was on the floor with an ice container and two glasses which still contained ice cubes.

There was lipstick on one of the glasses.

Mason said, “You weren’t studying, Wight; you were having a little social gathering. When your mother rang the bell the first time, you had your girlfriend get sufficiently presentable so she could leave via the back door. After you let us in the front door, she took your car and drove off.”

Wight Baird said, “Suppose you try minding your own business for a change, Mr. Lawyer.”

“This is my business,” Mason said. “I’m trying to get a line on a rather complicated situation.”

“All right,” Wight said, “so I’ve been a normal human being. Any law against that?”

“No law against that,” Mason said, “but I don’t like people who lie to me, and when you, with liquor on your breath, told me this story about having your nose buried in books all day and then I heard someone drive off in your car, I thought perhaps I’d like to check into your story a little bit.”

“All right, you’ve checked it. Now what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Mason said. “I was just testing your truthfulness.”