Queens Full by Ellery Queen Page A

Everett, and Olivia, in equal shares; or in the event of the predecease of any or all of them, to his or their heirs or assigns.’”
    Ellery could only admire them. In a body they rose and went to Amy, struck dumb in her chair, and congratulated her as sportsmen gracefully acknowledge a race well run but lost.
    â€œWell, gentlemen,” said Samuel Junior, turning to them, “that would seem to settle that.”
    â€œYes,” said Ellery, “but not the question of who smothered Bella Livingston three nights ago.”
    They looked pained.
    â€œAm I to understand from that remark, Mr. Queen,” asked the tall elder brother courteously, “that one of us is seriously suspected of having murdered our stepmother?”
    â€œCan you offer another suggestion, Mr. Livingston?”
    â€œThat’s not my province. Though I should think a tramp—”
    â€œTramps break into houses to steal, Mr. Livingston. There was no break-in, and nothing was stolen or even disturbed. No convenient sneak thief, I’m afraid.”
    â€œThen may I point out that Olivia, my brother, and I gain nothing at all by our stepmother’s death?”
    â€œMurder is not wiped off the books,” Ellery reminded Samuel Livingston, Junior, with matching courtesy, “on the ground that it fails to show a profit. The facts indicate that no one involved knew your stepmother had executed a new will Saturday morning. If that’s so, she was murdered Saturday night by someone who thought the old will was still in force. By someone, you see, who would have gained. And that’s a perfectly valid motive.”
    â€œAnd that’s us.” Olivia laughed. “Forgive me, darlings. I’m trying to see myself smothering Bella.”
    â€œThe trouble with you fellows is,” said Everett, “you have the typical middle-class attitude about money. It’s really not that important.”
    â€œThe whole notion is mad.” Samuel Junior shrugged. “But I suppose you’ll have to satisfy yourselves. Are we under house arrest, or what?”
    â€œLet’s just say,” said Chief of Police Dakin, “that we’re all going to stay on for a few days till things kind of jell. I’ll be in and out, but Mr. Queen and Herb Wentworth will be here to keep you company. The newspapers ain’t onto this yet, so we ought to have ourselves a nice quiet time.”
    When the last upstairs light blinked out in the house, Ellery came up from the black lawn to the moon-whitened back porch and sat carefully down in a rocker.
    Having known Bella Livingston in life, he wanted very much to pay his peculiar respects to her in death. She had deserved a better fate than smothering. But there was simply nothing to go on. He had told that to Chief Dakin before the chief left for the night. He had told Dakin something else, too, but the old Yank had been skeptical. “That ain’t in the cards, Mr. Queen,” Dakin had said, “not with you and Wentworth here.” And he had added stubbornly, “Bella was an eighth-grader in the old Piney Road School when I was a skinny little firster, and she used to wipe my bloody nose when the big boys licked me. I ain’t letting go of those three.”
    But it was in the cards.
    What to do?
    The sigh of the screen door and a gasp decided the question for him.
    â€œIt’s only me, Miss Upham,” Ellery said, getting up. “Too hot for sleep?”
    â€œHot?” Amy shivered as she sat down on the top step. “I couldn’t imagine who was sitting out here.” She drew her bathrobe more closely about her. “I’m glad it’s you,” she said suddenly.
    â€œOh? Why?”
    â€œI don’t know, I just am.” She stared into the darkness. “Shouldn’t I be?”
    â€œYes,” Ellery said. “You should be very glad it’s me.”
    She turned to him then. Something in the flat