The Case of the Lonely Heiress

by Erle Stanley Gardner

  “Mr. Niles,” Ralph Endicott said as though presenting two fighters in the ring. “Mr. Mason.”

  “How are you, Mr. Niles,” Mason said, shaking hands. “I’m glad to meet you.”

  “I’ve heard of you,” Niles said. “Seen you in court several times, but never have had the pleasure of meeting you. How do you do? And may I ask what you’re doing here?”

  Mason said, “I am trying to get some information about a matter which is outside the issues of the will contest. I told these people I wanted their lawyer present. I understood you were here.”

  “What is the nature of the information you want?” Niles asked, instantly suspicious.

  Mason said, “I’m investigating the death of Rose Keeling.”

  “The death of Rose Keeling!” Niles echoed in astonishment.

  “That’s right.”

  “But she’s not dead. She …”

  “She is dead,” Mason said. “She was murdered some time around noon today.”

  “Good heavens!” Niles said. “This complicates the situation.”

  Mason said, “I’m trying to account for her time during the early part of the day. I had reason to believe she might have been in conversation with one of the Endicotts.”

  “What caused you to believe that?”

  “My detectives tell me there is evidence that Rose Keeling gave one of your clients a check today. I want to know when and what for.”

  Niles pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Did you come here to see me?”

  “I wanted to ask some questions of your clients. I rang your office. Your secretary said you were here. Naturally I wanted your permission, although I could have secured the information through more orthodox and more disagreeable channels.”

  “How?”

  “I could have told my friend, Lieutenant Tragg on Homicide, that I thought it would be a good plan to check on the Endicotts. That would have dragged their names into the newspapers and ultimately had a far more disastrous effect on the will contest than an informal chat of this sort.”

  “Well, let’s sit down and get this thing straightened out,” Niles said.

  Ralph Endicott said, “As far as I’m concerned, I can shout what I have to say from the housetops. I think it would be a good plan to let the newspapers know exactly what happened.”

  “Not the newspapers!” Lorraine Parsons said coldly. “The newspapers are vulgar. They are sensational. They cater to the lowest section of humanity and present news with the vulgar sensationalism which appeals to readers of that type.”

  Niles said, “I think we’ll excuse you for a few minutes, Mr. Mason. I want to talk with my clients about this. And then if we have any statement to make, we’ll make it formally.”

  “Time is short,” Mason reminded him.

  “Why are you in such a hurry to get that information?”

  “I have reasons.”

  “What are they?”

  Mason smiled, and shook his head.

  “You want us to put our cards on the table while you hold all the aces up your sleeve,” Niles said.

  Mason said, with some anger, “Have it your own way. I’ll put in a call for Lieutenant Tragg and then I’ll read the answers in tomorrow morning’s paper.”

  “I think, Mr. Mason,” Mrs. Parsons said acidly, “that Mr. Niles’ request is quite in order. You may wait in the …”

  “Reception hallway,” Palmer Endicott cut in firmly.

  Mason grinned and said, “I’ll wait in my car. I’ll wait five minutes. You can make up your minds within that time to talk with me or with the police, whichever you see fit.”

  “I don’t see what the police have to do with …”

  “Please!” Niles protested to his clients, then turned to Mason. “Go out and wait in your car, Mason.”

  Mason bowed. “Five minutes,” he said, and left the room.

  Five minutes to the second after the lawyer had settled himself in his car, he started the motor, inched his way past Paddington Niles’ car, got to the garage, turned around and started to drive past the house and out the driveway.

  He had gone perhaps fifteen feet when the side door was flung open and Ralph Endicott, running out, waved frantically at him.

  Mason braked his car to a stop.

  “Come in, Mr. Mason! Come right in,” Endicott called, his voice tremulous with excitement. “We’re waiting for you. We want to talk with you.”

  Mason stopped his car, leaving it so that it blocked the driveway. He got out and said, “I thought you’d decided to let me go to the police.”

  “No, no, no. Not yet. Come right in. We perhaps ran a few seconds over the time, but only a few seconds—just a few seconds, Mr. Mason.”

  Mason followed Ralph Endicott back into the library.

  They looked up as he entered.

  Paddington C. Niles was frowning. His face had an expression of perplexity. Palmer Endicott, with an attempt at cordiality that was foreign to his nature and made his words utterly incongruous, said, “Sit right down, Mr. Mason. Sit right down and be comfortable.”

  Lorraine Endicott Parsons actually managed a frosty smile. “Do sit down, Mr. Mason.”

  Mason seated himself at the far end of the table.

  There was a moment of silence, while Ralph Endicott resumed his chair and cleared his throat.

  “Go ahead,” Mason said.

  “Would you like to tell him, Niles?” Ralph Endicott asked.

  Niles shook his head. “This is all a bit sudden, as far as I’m concerned. You tell the facts to Mason and I’ll listen while you go over them again. But be sure of your facts.”

  “Oh, certainly,” Ralph Endicott said testily.

  Mason lit a cigarette. “Let’s go,” he said.

  Ralph Endicott said, “In the beginning, Mr. Mason, I came to the conclusion that the purported will my brother was supposed to have executed was the result of fraud, undue influence and various other illegalities. The nurse who attended him saw to it that his mind was never entirely clear, and at a propitious moment she suggested the signing of this will.”

  Palmer Endicott, having made his attempt at cordiality, had now slumped down in his chair, listening to his brother’s statement with cold cynicism. Lorraine Parsons nodded her head slowly, signifying her acquiescence.

  “I don’t want to talk about the will contest,” Mason said impatiently.

  “Well, we do.”

  “All I want to know is the time you talked with Rose Keeling. I want the exact hour as nearly as you can recall.”

  “I’m coming to that,” Ralph Endicott said, “but I’m coming to it in my own way. Since you’re here, we may as well talk about the whole case. We might reach some understanding.”

  Mason said, “I’m only prepared to talk about the murder.”

  “Well, listen to what I have to say, then,” Endicott said.

  The others nodded approval.

  “I assumed,” Ralph went on, “that the witnesses to the will were equally culpable with the so-called beneficiary. I assumed that there must have been some financial benefit to them in the transaction, and I felt certain that no matter how my brother might have been drugged, no matter how much disease and undue influence had clouded his mind, he would never voluntarily have made such a will. That will was written by the beneficiary. It was then shoved under his nose and he was told to sign.”

  “That doesn’t coincide with the testimony given by the two subscribing witnesses,” Mason said.

  “Just a moment, just a moment,” Endicott said rapidly. “I’m coming to that.”

  “All right. Go ahead.”

  “So, I approached Rose Keeling. I explained to her exactly how I felt about it, and at first Miss Keeling refused to co-operate with me.in any way or give me any information other than the parrotlike statement she had been paid to make.”

  Mason puffed silently at his cigarette.

  “Then,” Ralph Endicott went on, “her conscience began to bother her.
She finally told me a most remarkable story.”

  “What’s the story?” Mason asked. “Let’s get down to brass tacks.”

  “It was an extraordinary story. She stated that Mrs. Marlow had taken up the matter of the will with her on the day that it was executed, that she had told her that her patient, who was really wealthy, desired to make a will in her favor and that he had dictated to her the terms of the will; that his right hand was paralyzed so that he could not sign with his right hand, but that he would sign with his left hand.”

  “At that time the will was already drawn?”

  “The will was already drawn in the handwriting of Mrs. Marlow. She said that my brother had dictated the terms of the will. She also told Rose Keeling that if Rose would sign as a witness and the will stood up, Rose Keeling would receive a substantial amount of money. Rose Keeling had no way of knowing what Mrs. Marlow promised the other witness, Ethel Furlong, but it is assumed that substantially the same promises were made.

  “The three nurses entered the room where my brother was lying. Mrs. Marlow said to him, ‘Now, Mr. Endicott, I have drawn up the will the way you wanted it. You sign here.’ My brother said, ‘I can’t sign with my right hand,’ and Mrs. Marlow had said, ‘All right. Go ahead and sign with your left hand.’

  “Thereupon my brother suggested that she read the will to him in the presence of the witnesses, and she said, ‘No, no, that isn’t necessary. These two nurses are on duty here on the floor and they may be called out at any time. They can’t take enough time from their other patients to sit around and listen to this. It’s drawn up just the way you wanted it drawn up. You sign here.’

  “My brother George seemed a little bit uncertain about whether he would sign or not without having it read to him. But at just that moment the floor superintendent looked into the room and said, ‘What’s the matter in here? The call lights are on all over the floor.’ Mrs. Marlow had thereupon hastily hidden the will and Rose Keeling had said, ‘I’ll take care of the lights.’ She had dashed out of the room and found three lights. Two of them were patients who required only minor attention and one from a patient who took longer, about five minutes. When she had finished with those duties, Rose Keeling returned to the room, and Mrs. Marlow was then holding in her hands the document supposed to have been signed by my brother, and she said, ‘It’s all right, Rose, he’s signed the will and everything’s all right. Just go ahead and sign here as a witness. You want her to, don’t you, Mr. Endicott?’

  “And,” Ralph Endicott went on triumphantly, “my brother, George, said nothing. He was lying there with his eyes closed and was breathing regularly. Rose Keeling thinks that he was either asleep or that while she was out of the room, he had been given a heavy hypodermic of morphine. However, Mrs. Marlow was popular and Rose Keeling was thoroughly in sympathy with having her get something for the nursing and attention she had given my brother. So she signed as a witness.

  “Later on, after my brother had died, Mrs. Marlow came to Rose Keeling and told her there were certain formalities that the lawyers would ask about, and told Rose substantially what to say. She told Rose that there had been an outright gift of certain jewelry and that she was going to keep some of this jewelry, but was going to sell some of it to raise some immediate money.

  “She did this, selling some diamonds, which I understand brought in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars. My brother’s collection of jewelry, many of the pieces heirlooms, was worth at least a hundred thousand dollars. The story that I now get is that some two weeks before his death, in the presence of Ethel Furlong, he had given the jewelry to Mrs. Marlow and told her that he wanted her to have that jewelry, that he had no use for it; that there would be no descendants of his to wear the jewelry and that she was to take it and do what she wanted to with it. Mrs. Marlow had some cash. She gave Rose Keeling a thousand dollars in cash and told her that when the estate was finally distributed, if everything went all right, Rose Keeling would get another nine thousand dollars.”

  Mason said, “Quite easy to make up a fairy story like this, now that Rose Keeling is out of the way. I thought you’d probably do something like that, which was the reason I told you I would only give you five minutes. However, you’ve collaborated on a pretty good scenario. It’s as fast a job as I’ve ever seen. You should be in Hollywood.”

  Niles said hastily, “That’s the story they told me as soon as you left the room, Mason.”

  Mason merely smiled.

  “However,” Niles went on somewhat testily, “there’s proof of this.”

  “Proof?” Mason asked.

  “Exactly,” Ralph Endicott said. “Rose Keeling’s conscience began to bother her. I received a telephone call from her, stating that she wanted to see me at once upon a matter of the greatest importance. That call came in about seven-thirty this morning. I finished my breakfast and went to her apartment. I arrived there approximately at eight o’clock. I found Rose Keeling in an extremely nervous state. She said she had agreed to do something which preyed on her conscience and that she just simply couldn’t go through with it. She told me that she had received one thousand dollars from Mrs. Marlow, that she was satisfied that one thousand dollars came from the sale of jewelry which had virtually been stolen from the estate; that, inasmuch as I was one of the heirs and represented the others, she had decided to surrender that money and ease her conscience. Whereupon, she handed me her check for one thousand dollars, drawn on the Central Security Bank, and gave me a carbon copy of a letter she had sent to Marilyn Marlow.”

  Mason’s eyes narrowed. “A carbon copy?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How had the letter been written? On a typewriter?”

  “No. In pen and ink, but she had a clear carbon copy.”

  “May I see the carbon copy of the letter?” Mason asked.

  Ralph Endicott said to Niles, “How about it, Niles? Shall we show him the carbon copy of the letter?”

  “I see no reason for not showing it to him,” Niles said. “Since you’ve gone this far and told him this much, I’d tell him the whole thing. Put all the cards on the table.”

  Endicott opened a billfold which he had taken from his pocket while Niles was speaking, and handed Mason a sheet of note paper. “There it is,” he said.

  Mason glanced through the letter. It was a carbon copy of the letter which Marilyn Marlow had received and which she probably had by this time destroyed.

  “Very interesting,” Mason said, his voice and face expressionless as he handed back the carbon copy. “When did all this take place?”

  “At approximately eight o’clock this morning.”

  “That was at Rose Keeling’s flat?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long were you there?”

  “Perhaps half an hour in all.”

  “What did you do when you left there?”

  “I see no reason to go into that. It involves purely private affairs. I assume you are only interested in Rose Keeling’s …”

  “Go ahead and tell him,” Niles grunted. “You’ve admitted having seen Rose Keeling, and if she’s been killed, you’d better go on with your story.”

  “It’s a lot of purely personal trivia,” Endicott protested.

  “Go on with it, Ralph,” Mrs. Parsons ordered, “otherwise you seem evasive. Tell Mr. Mason where you went.”

  Ralph Endicott frowned, said, “Very well. It is a lot of utter trivia. I left Miss Keeling’s place at approximately eight-forty in the morning. I went from there to the office of an automobile agency where I have had a new car on order for some time. I felt certain that they were cheating on me and letting cars out the back door. I had been twenty-fourth on the list several months ago and was advised that I was fifteenth on the list as of this date. I made something of a scene. I left there at approximately nine o’clock. I had an appointment with my dentist at nine-fifteen. I was with him until nine-fifty-five. I remember the time because I had been thinking about that ch
eck while I was in the dentist’s chair. I knew it was an important piece of evidence. If I cashed it, then it would be returned to Rose Keeling by the bank when it sent her her canceled checks. If I held it as evidence, she might change her mind and stop payment on it.

  “Just before I left the dentist’s, I conceived the idea of holding the check but having it certified. I consulted my watch. It was a few minutes before ten. I hurried to the bank and reached the cashier’s window at about ten-five. When he certified the check, I asked him to be certain to note the time of certification. You can see he wrote it on the check, 10:10 A.M.

  “From the bank I went to a chess and checker club. I arrived there at about ten-twenty and started playing in a tournament in which I was a contestant. I played continuously until about three-thirty. Then I had a sandwich and a malted milk and drove home in my car—a model A Ford. I have been here ever since.

  “Here is the certified check, in case you wish to examine it.”

  “I presume you can verify all these times,” Mason asked, taking the check Ralph Endicott handed him.

  “As a matter of fact, I can very easily. As it happens, I was playing chess on a time limit, and inasmuch as I am considered one of the champions there, there was a record kept of the games and of the time consumed in the games. However, I consider all of this as absolutely beside the point and quite irrelevant.”

  Mason, who had been examining the check, said, “You saw her sign this check?”

  “Yes.”

  “I notice there’s a somewhat smeared but still fairly legible fingerprint on the back of this check.”

  “Let’s see it.”

  Mason pointed out the smudged fingerprint.

  “Probably my fingerprint,” Ralph Endicott said casualiy.

  “Made in ink?”

  “That’s right. I remember now I started to endorse the check, and the cashier told me that I shouldn’t endorse it. If I wanted to have it certified, the certification would show the check was good as gold. He said I wasn’t to endorse it until I was ready to cash it.”

  Mason said, “Well, let’s just check on this ink-smeared print. If it’s your fingerprint, let’s find out.”