There Was an Old Woman by Ellery Queen

“can’t decide whether to quit our service or stay, Mr. Queen. Suppose you tell him what the situation is.”
    â€œThe situation,” said Mr. Queen, impaling Cuttins on his glance, “is that this house and everyone in it are under surveillance of the police, Cuttins, and since you can’t very well skip out without a police alarm being broadcast in your honor, you’d be well advised to get me something to eat instantly.”
    â€œVery good, sir,” muttered Cuttins; and he oozed rapidly out.
    â€œI’m still punchy,” said Sheila vaguely. “I can’t seem to get it through my thick head that Bob’s dead. Dead. Not of pneumonia. Not hit by an automobile. Killed by a bullet from Thurlow’s gun in a duel. Such a s-silly way to die!” Sheila bent suddenly over her plate. She did not look at Charley Paxton, who sat stricken.
    â€œSomething’s happened between you two,” said Ellery keenly, glancing from one to the other.
    â€œSheila’s called off our engagement,” murmured Charley.
    â€œWell,” said Ellery cheerfully, “don’t treat it like some major convulsion of nature, Charley. A girl has a right to change her mind. And you’re not the handsomest specimen roving the New York jungle.”
    â€œIt isn’t that,” said Sheila quickly. “I still—” She bit her lip.
    â€œIt isn’t?” Ellery stole a slice of bread from Charley’s bread-and-butter plate. “Then what is it, Sheila?”
    Sheila did not answer.
    â€œThis is no time to split up,” cried Charley. “I’ll never understand women! Here’s a girl up to her neck in trouble. You’d think she’d want my arms around her. Instead, she pushed me away just now! Won’t let me kiss her, won’t let me share her unhappiness—”
    â€œEvery fact has a number of alternative explanations,” murmured Mr. Queen. “Maybe you had garlic for lunch yesterday, Charley.”
    Sheila smiled despite herself. Then she said in despair: “There’s nothing else for me to do, I tell you.”
    â€œJust because poor Bob was murdered,” Charley said bitterly. “I suppose if my father had died on the gallows rather than home in bed, you’d run out on me, wouldn’t you?’
    â€œCough up, sweetheart,” said Mr. Queen gently.
    â€œAll right, I will!” Sheila’s dimples dug hard. “Charley, I’ve always told you that the main reason I was holding off our marriage was because Mother would cut me off without a cent if we went through with it, and that that wouldn’t be fair to you. Well, I wasn’t being honest. As if I cared two cents whether Mother left me anything or not! I’d be happy with you if I had to live in a one-room shack.”
    â€œIt isn’t that?” The young lawyer was bewildered. “But then what possible reason, darling—?”
    â€œCharley, look at us. Thurlow. Louella. Horatio—”
    â€œWait a minute—”
    â€œYou can’t get away from the horrid truth just by ignoring it. They’re insane, every one of them.” Sheila’s voice soared. “How do I know I haven’t got the same streak in me? How do I know?”
    â€œBut Sheila dearest, they’re not your full brothers and sisters—they’re half-brothers, Louella’s a half-sister.”
    â€œWe have the same mother.”
    â€œBut you know perfectly well that Thurlow, Louella, and Horatio inherited their—whatever they inherited—not from your mother but from their father, whose blood isn’t in you at all. And there’s certainly nothing wrong with Steve—”
    â€œHow do I know that?” asked Sheila stridently. “Look at my mother. Is she like other people?”
    â€œThere’s nothing wrong with the Old Woman but plain, ordinary cussedness. Sheila, you’re dramatizing. This