Inspector Queen’s Own Case by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online Page A

should be repeated and she weren’t there to protect him?
    So the weeks passed, and July drew to a close, and nothing happened. On the 31st, almost four weeks to the day from the date of the nursery incident, Alton Humffrey dismissed the three private detectives.
    The following Thursday morning Jessie bathed and dressed the baby, fed him his gruel and bottle, and turned him over to Sarah Humffrey.
    â€œYou’re sure you’re up to it?” Jessie asked her anxiously. Mrs. Humffrey was sniffling with a slight summer cold. “I’ll gladly forgo my day off. I can make it up some other time.”
    â€œOh, no.” Mrs. Humffrey peered at Michael through her white mask. Jessie privately wished she wouldn’t insist on wearing a mask at the least provocation; the baby didn’t like it. Besides, Jessie held the unprofessional view that the more an infant was shielded from common germ and virus infections in his early months, when he still had certain immunities, the more susceptible he became later. But Mrs. Humffrey went by the book, or rather by the books; she had a shelf full of them over her bed. “It’s not the least bit necessary, Miss Sherwood. It’s just a little head cold. We’ll be fine without Nursey, love, won’t we?”
    â€œMaybe I’d better plan on coming back tonight, though,” Jessie said, setting herself for squalls. Michael was staring up at the white mask with apprehension, and his little mouth was beginning to droop at the corners.
    â€œI won’t hear of it.” Mrs. Humffrey took this moment to tickle his abdomen. “Kitchy-kitchy! Come on, darling, laugh.”
    â€œI really wouldn’t mind,” Jessie said, choking back a sharp command to stop. Michael solved the problem by throwing up and howling. Mrs. Humffrey guiltily backed off. “It’s nothing,” Jessie said, taking him. “It’s just not a very good idea to tickle an infant, especially on a full stomach.” She burped him, cleaned him up, and handed him back.
    â€œOh, dear,” Sarah Humffrey said. “There’s so much I have to learn.”
    â€œNot so much,” Jessie couldn’t help saying. “It’s really only a matter of common sense, Mrs. Humffrey. I do think I’ll come back tonight.”
    â€œI absolutely forbid you. I know how you’ve looked forward to a night in town …”
    In the end Jessie was persuaded. Driving her sturdy little 1949 Dodge coupé, she told herself all the way to the railroad station that she really must stop being so possessive. It would do Mrs. Humffrey good to have to care for her baby around the clock. Women had no business turning their children over to someone else. But if they were that kind—and it seemed to Jessie that she rarely encountered any other kind—the more responsibility that was forced on them the better off they and the children were.
    Still, Jessie was uneasy all day. It rather spoiled the good time she had planned. She met an old friend, Belle Berman, a supervisor of nurses at a New York hospital; and although they shopped at Saks’s, had lunch in a winy-smelling restaurant on 45th Street with French travel posters on the walls, and took in a matinée, Jessie found her thoughts going back to Nair Island and the unhappy little face on the bathinette.
    They had dinner in Belle Berman’s apartment on West 11th Street. All during the meal Jessie kept glancing at her watch.
    â€œWhat is the matter with you?” her friend demanded as she began to collect the dishes. “Anyone would think you’d left a dying patient.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Belle, but I’m worried about the baby. Mrs. Humffrey does have a cold, and if she starts moaning and pampering herself … Besides, she’s so helpless about the simplest things.”
    â€œHeavens, Jessie,” Belle Berman exclaimed. “Is there anything more indestructible than