The Case of the Demure Defendant

Chapter Nine

“So you’re Mason, the lawyer,” Cap’n Hugo said, shuffling forward and extending his right hand.

“That’s right,” Mason said, “and you’re Cap’n Hugo.”

“That’s me.”

Mason stood for a moment sizing the man up.

Cap’n Hugo would have been around six feet tall if he had stood straight, but an easygoing slouch had been crystallized by age so that now his head was thrust forward, his shoulders rounded. The man seemed abnormally thin except that the forward thrust of his spine had pushed his stomach out so that he seemed a little paunchy in the middle. His neck, arms, wrists and ankles were pipestem thin.

He had high cheekbones, a pointed jaw and a sloping forehead. The forward thrust of his neck held his face downward so that he had to look up when he wanted to meet a person’s eyes. He accomplished this by a little sideways, upward toss of the head and an elevation of his eyebrows. For the most part the man seemed intent on looking at the floor. From time to time he darted these elfin glances upward in what almost seemed a deliberately droll manner.

Mason said, “Sit down, Cap’n. Paul Drake told me you were an interesting character and I wanted to ask you a few questions.”

“Go right ahead,” Cap’n Hugo drawled. “They paid me ten dollars for just sittin’ down an’ talkin’. Easiest money I ever made in my life. What you want me to talk about?”

He eased his figure down into a chair, put his hands on his knees, flashed an upward glance at Mason, then relaxed so that Mason could see only the tip of the man’s nose, his bushy white eyebrows and the light glinting from the bald head.

“I understand the police are investigating the death of Mosher Higley,” Mason said.

This time the head came up with a jerk, the gray eyes flashed from under the bushy eyebrows.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Cap’n Hugo demanded.

“That’s my understanding,” Mason said.

For a moment Cap’n Hugo held his head up, looking at Mason, then, as though the upthrust position caused him pain in his spine, he lowered his head again and said, “Hell, there ain’t nothin’ to investigate. Old Mosher Higley kicked the bucket just like all of us are goin’ to do some day. I understand some doc got Miss Nadine full of dope and she had a pipe dream. If the police are goin’ to investigate all dope dreams like that the real crooks couldn’t ask for nothin’ better. Cops’ll be too damn busy to work on real crime. Hell, they’ll be all worn out.”

“You were with him at the time he died?” Mason asked.

“Sure I was with him.”

“I mean in the room with him?”

“Nope, I was washin’ windows in the dinin’ room. Don’t ordinarily do it. Figure that’s a woman’s work. But those windows were pretty danged dirty and it’s hard to get women these days. We have a housekeeper so-called, comes in once a week, charges a dollar an hour — makes me mad every time I think of it.”

“Did you work by the hour?”

“Me?” Cap’n Hugo asked, flashing Mason another quick glance, then dropping his head again. “Hell no! I didn’t work by no hour. I worked by the job. Guess I prob’ly ain’t goin’ to have no more jobs now. Old Mosher cut me right off at the pockets. Don’t blame him none. But I been with old Mosher Higley so long I couldn’t work for nobody else anyway. He understood me and I understood him.”

“What’ll you do?” Mason asked.

“Old Mosher left me half salary for four months. Wouldn’t have done any good if he’d left me more. The estate can’t pay out. There ain’t half enough unless they strike oil on that Wyoming property. The niece’s husband who specializes in oil properties seems to think there’s oil up there, been pesterin’ Mosher for eighteen months tryin’ to get Mosher to sell. Mosher just told him nope, he hated to do business with relatives.”

Cap’n Hugo treated himself to a dry chuckle which shook his thin shoulders and caused his head to nod slightly.

“Was that the real reason?” Mason asked.

“Hell no,” Cap’n Hugo said. “Mosher figured he could make a better deal if he waited. He thought Jackson Newburn had his eye on it and I guess the boy did, all right. Can’t blame him for tryin’. But Mosher was too goldinged smart for him. Mosher wouldn’t let it go for what Newburn was willin’ to give.”

“What about Nadine Fan?” Mason asked.

“Nicest little girl you ever seen,” Cap’n Hugo said. “Pretty as a picture. Sweet too. Nice girl to be around. Livin’ there, studyin’ nights, givin’ me help whenever she could, bein’ just as sweet as she could to Mosher. Mosher never appreciated her at all. Used to be awful mean to her. Sometimes it made me downright mad.”

“How long had you been working with Mosher Higley?” Mason asked.

“About thirty years. When his wife was alive I was chauffeur and gardener. Then she died and Mosher started livin’ alone, so I sort of worked in on lots of jobs. First thing I knew I was just putterin’ around, cookin’ for me and Mosher. We didn’t want much, just ordinary type of grub. I cooked chicken and things the way Mosher wanted ’em and— Hell, I’m gettin’ to be an old man, Mr. Mason.”

“What are you going to do now that your job’s folded?” Mason asked.

“Goin’ down South and get me one of these little shacks on the bank of a river that’s got a few catfish in it. You can build a shack out of corrugated iron and be right comfortable. Get me a place where I can catch catfish. Don’t worry about me. Ill get along.”

“Don’t you think that Mosher Higley, under all the circumstances, could have arranged to take care of your declining years?”

“Why the hell should he?”

“You gave him years of loyal service.”

“He paid wages, didn’t he? Way I figure it he didn’t owe me nothin’ an’ I didn’t owe him nothin’.”

“What are you doing out there at the house now?” Mason asked.

“Just squattin’, waitin’ for someone to throw me out. Reckon the property’ll be sold soon as the red tape can be unsnarled.”

“The niece and her husband aren’t going to live in the house?”

“Hell no. They’re all right where they are.”

Mason said, “I wish you’d tell me something about Nadine Farr and about what happened the day Mosher Higley died.”

“I already told you.”

“How did it happen Nadine Farr was living with Mosher Higley?”

“He sent for her.”

“Let’s get back to the day that Mosher Higley died,” Mason said. “Do you remember the things that took place that day?”

“Remember ’em just like I remember what happened five minutes ago.”

“You were washing windows?”

“That’s right.”

“Did Higley have a nurse?”

“Had two of ’em, one workin’ days, one workin’ nights.”

“Trained nurses?”

“Nope. Practical nurses on twelve-hour shifts.”

“What was wrong with him?”

“Heart trouble.”

“He was overweight?”

“Not so much when he died. He’d been pretty heavy but the doc had taken quite a bit off’n him. Reckon he weighed about a hundred and eighty-five when he died.”

“And this was on a Saturday?”

“Yep, that’s right, Saturday noon. Miss Nadine, she would sort of take charge of things on Saturday and keep the house runnin’. And at noon she’d give the daytime nurse a breathin’ spell. Nadine’s awful nice to people, just an awful nice girl.”

“How about the niece? She didn’t live there in the house with him?”

“Mrs. Newburn? Not her. She wouldn’t be caught dead hangin’ around there — there might be some work for her to do. She wouldn’t like that. It would stain her hands. She lives in an apartment, one of those affairs where they push a button to wash dishes, turn a dodad so the air is just right — summer it’s cool, winter it’s warm.”

“That takes money?” Mason asked.

“I reckon. I never asked ’em and they never told me. I wouldn’t know what things like that cost because I never went shoppin’ for those kind of gadgets. They ain’t fittin’ to my type of beauty.”

“Didn’t Mrs. Newburn and her husband come to visit Mosher Higley frequently?”

“Oh sure. They were keepin’ their fences up. And every time they came they had some dirty dig for Miss Nadine. Honest, the way they treated that girl was a crime. I don’t know how Miss Nadine managed to keep sweet and patient all the time, but she did.”

“Now on the day that Mosher Higley died, had they been to see him?”

“Mrs. Newburn had... now, wait a minute, they both had. They both went in and talked with him and—”

“What time was that?”

“I reckon that was around eleven o’clock. Then Jackson Newburn said he had some kind of an errand to run and he drove off in his car. He was to come back and pick up his wife about noon, and that’s what he did.”

“And how long after that did Higley die?”

“Not long. Miss Nadine was fixin’ his lunch. He was a funny coot — wanted all the rich things that he couldn’t have and he’d cheat on his diet with a little of this and a little of that and a little of the other — ate lots of sugar substitutes. He said that they didn’t do him no harm. I don’t know — maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. Me, I ain’t never been bothered puttin’ on weight so I wouldn’t know — eat anythin’ I want to eat, only as I get older I don’t want so much.”

“And then what happened?”

“Well, Miss Nadine took him up some dry toast and some hot chocolate made with this here sugar substitute. It seemed like she was gone... oh, I don’t know, maybe ten minutes or so. I was gettin’ ready to come in and eat some lunch myself when I heard Miss Nadine scream—”

“Then what?”

“Then she came runnin’ downstairs and telephoned for the doc. Then she went flyin’ back upstairs, so I went up and Mosher was gaspin’ and havin’ fits. It seemed like he was sort of smotherin’, then he died, leastwise I thought he was dead.”

“How long did it take the doctor to get there?”

“Not very long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes.”

“Then what?”

“Then the doc he looked at him, thumped him over and said that he was dead and it was fortunate he’d passed out quick without sufferin’, and told Miss Nadine she was upset and better have some stuff to quiet her down.”

“Did he give her something?”

“Yep. He gave her a couple of pills and told her to lie down and that he’d make all the arrangements.”

“And what did Miss Nadine do then?”

“Went out through the kitchen and into her room.”

“She reaches her room through the kitchen?”

“That’s right. Her bedroom didn’t amount to much. It’s downstairs in the basement, got a little dinky shower and toilet in it... never could figure why Mosher wouldn’t put her in one of the guest rooms. That would leave her near him so he could call to her at night and she wouldn’t have to come traipsin’ all over the house.

“But not Mosher. He never had guests, but he had to have those guest rooms always kept ready. He was funny that way. He rigged up an electric bell system so he could press a button and it would ring a buzzer in Miss Nadine’s room and she’d have to come runnin’. Of course, he didn’t use that much after he got the nurses. He had another bell for the nurses. Had a night nurse sittin’ around there where she could keep an eye on him — not much of a job. When he’d sleep she’d sleep. I think they gave him somethin’ to keep him asleep most of the time. Anyhow, this nurse was there in case he took bad so she could notify the doc and give him some sort of a hypo or other.”

“And did that make your duties easier?”

“Hell no! Miss Nadine and I had to cook for those nurses. That nurse who was on nights, she wanted somethin’ hot at midnight. Far as I’m concerned I just don’t want no women clutterin’ up a house, unless they’re helpful like Miss Nadine, but these women who get bossy and want to wear the pants — I’ve been cookin’ for twenty years. I ain’t what you call a finished cook but I know how to cook. These here female women started bossin’ me. Both of ’em started tellin’ me how to do things, how to cook this, how to cook that, how to cook the other.”

“What did you do?”

“Didn’t do nothin’. I just went right ahead doin’ what I’d been doin’ all the time. It was good plain food. They could eat it or go hungry. I didn’t give a hoot.”

“Did Mosher Higley ever ask you to try and cook what they wanted?”

“Hell no. Mosher Higley knew me a damn sight better than that. One crack out of him like that I’d of been gone.”

“After all of those years of service?”

“I didn’t owe him nothin’ and he didn’t owe me nothin’. We got along together, that’s all. He couldn’t get anybody else that would put up with him, and I couldn’t get any other job, not at my age.”

“How did it happen that Nadine Farr came to live with Mosher Higley?”

“He sent for her.”

“You told me that before. Why did he send for her?”

“To give her a home.”

“Why did he want to give her a home?”

“Ask him.”

“I can’t. He’s dead. I’m asking you.”

“He knew her mother somehow and don’t ask me how or when because I ain’t one to talk about things like that.”

“Any chance that Nadine Farr was his daughter?”

“How the hell would I know?”

“I thought you might have known. You say that he knew Nadine’s mother?”

“Well, I didn’t follow him around with a flashlight when he went out nights.”

Mason said, “The police seem to feel that the circumstances surrounding Higley’s death should be reopened. They’ll probably be in touch with you.”

“Well, I guess they got a right to if they want.”

“Did Mrs. Newburn or Mr. Newburn go into the kitchen when they visited the house that day?”

“Them folks go into the kitchen? Hell no. They might go in there to snoop around and make some catty remarks. That Mrs. Newburn has the damnedest forefinger you ever saw in your life. She’ll go around runnin’ that forefinger along a window sill or under the bottom of a table or somethin’, bring it out with a little dust on it and stick it out like she’s discovered a corpse or somethin’.”

“Did she ever say anything to you?”

“Hell no. She knew better than to say anythin’ to me.”

“Did you say anything to her?”

“Hell no. I just let her stick out her finger. It was her finger. She could stick it out all she wanted. She’d rub it around, get a little dust on it, poke it out at me like she’d proved somethin’. I’d just look at it, wouldn’t say a word.”

“But you don’t think she went out in the kitchen that day?”

“Well... she could’ve. I don’t rightly remember. Anyhow, then she went up and seen Mosher. Then her husband went up and seen Mosher. Then Jackson went out and drove around some place, and then he came back and picked her up. I know he went out in the kitchen, just in and back. Seems he was lookin’ for Nadine for somethin’ or other. Then he went upstairs. He was up with Mosher about ten minutes, handin’ out a line. They didn’t give a damn for Mosher but wanted to be certain that he didn’t change his will none. They’d pour it on him like honey on hot cakes.”

“Well,” Mason said, “I just wanted to find out the facts. Thanks ever so much.”

Cap’n Hugo eased his lanky figure up out of the chair.

“Reckon you and that other feller got your ten bucks’ worth?”

Mason smiled. “I reckon we have.”

“Okay then,” Cap’n Hugo said. “I won’t have to come back. We’re square. I don’t owe you nothin’ and you don’t owe me nothin’. Good-by.”