“Where did they get her in the first place?”
Freel said glibly, “She was Russian. Her parents were killed in a shipwreck. Mrs. Tump left her with them. At that time, she was older than the Home liked to have children, but with the heritage she had, it was a cinch for them to get a high price.”
Freel moistened his lip with his tongue and started nodding his head up and down, giving silent emphasis to his words.
Mason studied the man narrowly for several seconds. Abruptly, he said, “Mrs. Tump has a daughter, hasn’t she?”
Freel’s head jerked in a quick half-turn as his eyes searched Mason’s. “A daughter?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Why… what sort of a daughter?”
“A daughter,” Mason said. “You know what the word means, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course… I’m sure I can’t remember. A lot of those things have escaped my recollection — little details. I presume they got Mrs. Tump’s history when the child was given to them.”
“Why would they do that?” Mason asked.