“Of course. He gave me the keys to the cabin and told me to go up there for my honeymoon. He said I could use it whenever I wanted to.”
“I see,” Mason said, “pardon the interruption. Go ahead.”
“Well, Fremont showed up with this parrot. He’d been up to the house and picked him up, and the parrot kept saying, ‘Drop that gun, Helen... don’t shoot... My God, you’ve shot me.’ Well, that didn’t sound good to me. I’m something of an expert on parrots. I gave Casanova to Fremont and I knew Casanova wouldn’t say anything unless someone had been to some trouble to repeat it many times in his presence — parrots vary, you know, and I knew Casanova. So I suggested to Fremont that he was in danger. Fremont didn’t feel that way about it, but after a while I convinced him. I wanted to study the parrot, trying to get a clue to the person who had been teaching him. So I got Fremont to buy another parrot and...”
“Then it was Fremont who bought the parrot?” Mason asked.
“Sure, that was Fremont.”
“Go ahead,” Mason said.
“Well, Fremont bought the parrot, so that no one would suspect I was studying Casanova, and I wanted a gun to give him, so I got Helen to get me a gun and some shells, and I gave that to Fremont. Then, he went on up to the cabin, and I came here to Santa Delbarra to look things over and find out about getting a place for a grocery store. I didn’t read the papers, because I never bother with ’em. I read some of the monthly magazines, and quite a few biographies, and scientific books, and spend a good deal of time around the libraries.”
“Well,” Mason said, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to readjust your philosophies of life. Under your brother’s will, you’ve inherited quite a chunk of money.”
George Wallman meditated for a while, then looked down at his wife. He patted her shoulder comfortingly, and said, “How about it, Babe, should we take enough of it to open up a little grocery store, or shall we tell ’em we don’t want any?”
She laughed happily. When she tried to speak, there was a catch in her throat. “You do whatever you want to, dearest,” she said. “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”