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 cooperate 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.”