doorman pull out a chair for the judge. It had never occurred to them that Sandy was a nickname for Alexander, but that couldn’t be what Sam Westing meant by It will be up to the other players to discover who you really are. Or could it?
The judge did not return the chip-toothed smile. Doorman, he calls himself, and the others had signed simple things, too: cook, dressmaker. The podiatrist had even made fun of his “position.” She must seem as pompous as that intern, putting on airs with that title. Well, she had worked hard to get where she was, why shouldn’t she be proud of it? She was no token; her record was faultless. . . . Watch it, Josie-Jo. Westing’s getting to you already and the game has barely begun.
5 • GRACE WINDSOR WEXLER, heiress JAMES SHIN HOO, restaurateur
Grace Windsor Wexler ignored the snickers. If she was not the heiress now, she would be soon, what with her clues, Angela’s clues, Turtle’s clues, Denton’s clues, and the clues of Mr. Hoo’s obedient son. Five thousand dollars lost! Oh well, who needs Jake anyway? She’d win on her own. “You’ll be happy to know that Mr. Westing was really my Uncle Sam,” she whispered to her partner.
So what, thought Mr. Hoo. Five thousand dollars lost! He should have told his wife about this meeting, dragged her along. Sam Westing, the louse, has cheated him again. Whoever killed him deserves a medal.
6 • BERTHE ERICA CROW, Good Salvation Soup Kitchen OTIS AMBER, deliverer
The delivery boy danced a merry jig; but Crow, her sore foot squeezed back into her tight shoe, headed for table six with a grim face. Why were they watching her? Did they think she killed Windy? Could the guilty know her guilt? Repent!
Crow limps, Chris Theodorakis noted.
7 • THEO THEODORAKIS, brother DOUGHOO, first in all-state high-school mile run
They slapped hands, and Doug jogged to table seven. Theo moved more slowly. Passing the chessboard he saw that white had made a second move. He countered with a black pawn. Maybe he should not have written brother, but like it or not, that was his position in life. Chris was smiling at him in pure sweetness, which made Theo feel even guiltier about his resentment.
“I guess that makes us partners, Ms. Pulaski,” Angela said.
“Pardon me, did you say something?”
8 • SYDELLE PULASKI, secretary to the president ANGELA WEXLER, none
Angela stepped tentatively behind the secretary, not knowing whether to ignore her disability or to take her arm. At least her crippled partner could not be the murderer, but it was embarrassing being paired with such a . . . no, she shouldn’t feel that way. It was her mother who was upset (she could feel the indignant anger without having to look at Grace); her perfect daughter was paired with a freak.
What good luck, the hobbling Sydelle Pulaski thought. Now she would really be noticed with such a pretty young thing for a partner. They might even invite her to the wedding. She’d paint a crutch white with little pink nosegays.
Denton Deere was troubled. What in the world did Angela mean by “nun”?
Once again Edgar Jennings Plum cleared his throat.
“Nasal drip,” Denton Deere whispered, confiding the latest diagnosis to his partner. Chris giggled. What’s the crippled kid so happy about, the intern wondered.
NINTH • Money! Each pair in attendance will now receive a check for the sum of $10,000. The check cannot be cashed without the signatures of both partners. Spend it wisely or go for broke. May God thy gold refine.
A piercing shriek suddenly reminded the Westing heirs of murder. While passing out the checks, the lawyer had stepped on Crow’s sore foot.
“Is this legal, Judge?” Sandy asked.
“It is not only legal, Mr. McSouthers,” Judge Ford replied, signing her name to the check and handing it to the doorman, “it is a shrewd way to keep everyone playing the game.”
TENTH • Each pair in attendance will now receive an envelope containing a set of
Lex Williford, Michael Martone