Free Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe 10 by Not Quite Dead Enough

I would not relinquish the Hand of God—”
    “Who was Cora Leeds?” Cramer demanded.
    “Her mother.” Mrs. Chack pointed a bony little finger, straight as an arrow, at Miss Leeds. “I refused—”
    “How did you learn that Roy Douglas killed her?”
    “Ann told me. My granddaughter. She told me how she knew, but I can’t remember. I have been trying to remember since last night. It will come back to me. My mind isn’t too old for a thing like that to come back. Cora Leeds was in bed, she had been in bed since she hurt her leg in September, and he put a pillow over her face and held her down, and when she struggled it was too much for her old heart and she died. I think Ann saw him putting the pillow—no, I’m just guessing. You see, I didn’t want to remember it because then it wouldn’t have been the Hand of God on December ninth, so Iforgot it. That’s the way an old mind works. Since last night I’ve been trying to remember so I could come and tell you as soon as I did, but I decided I’d better not wait.”
    “She’s crazy,” Miss Leeds stated in her voice like a man. “She has been crazy for—”
    Cramer gestured her into silence without taking his gaze away from Mrs. Chack. “But,” he rumbled, “you said that Roy Douglas killed your granddaughter. Do you remember how you know that?”
    “Certainly I do,” she snapped. “He killed her because she knew he had killed Cora Leeds, and he was afraid of her. He was afraid she would tell someone. Isn’t that a good reason?”
    “Yeah, it’s all right for a reason. Have you got any proof? Any evidence? Did you see him around there?”
    “See him? How could I? I wasn’t there. When I got home she was dead.” Her voice got shrill. “I am eighty-nine years old! I went home and found my granddaughter dead! Could I sit right down and think it out? After I was in bed I knew he had killed her! I want you to get him! I want to see him face to face!”
    “You will,” Cramer assured her. “Take it easy, Mrs. Chack. Do you remember why he killed Cora Leeds?”
    “Certainly I do. Because he didn’t want to give up his pigeon loft. She was going to have it torn down.”
    “I thought she had built it for him,” I put in.
    “She had. She spent thousands of dollars on it. But after she hurt her leg and couldn’t go to the Square any more, she hated him and she hated everybody. She sent word to me that I had to move out, had to leave that house where I had lived for over forty years. And she told Leon he had to get out and she wouldn’t pay him any more for killing hawks. She had paid him twenty dollars for every hawk he killed. And she told RoyDouglas she owned the pigeons, he didn’t, and she was going to tear the loft down and he had to go. And she told her own daughter she had to stop going to the Square, and when she found out her daughter was secretly giving money to Leon for killing hawks she wouldn’t let her have any money for anything. That’s the way she acted after she hurt her leg and couldn’t go to the Square. It was no wonder I thought it was the Hand of God, especially when it happened on December ninth. But God forgive me, it wasn’t. And I knew it wasn’t, I knew it was Roy Douglas, because Ann told me—God forgive me.”
    Cramer cleared his throat and asked, “From what you said, Miss Leeds, I understand you don’t agree with Mrs. Chack?”
    “I do not,” Miss Leeds declared emphatically. “She’s crazy. She did it herself.”
    “Did what herself? Made that up?”
    “No, she did it. She killed my mother and she killed her granddaughter. I doubt if she even knows she did it. Nobody in their right mind would have hurt Ann. She was a nice child and everybody liked her.”
    “Excuse me,” I put in. “You told me Monday that nobody killed your mother. You said she died of old age. Now you say—”
    “And you said,” she retorted crushingly, “that you came there just to see Ann, and here you are. Didn’t I tell