“I don’t think that will be necessary,” said Clifford. “Loveman’s case is closed. As for Bradley, Lieutenant Kelly found that Mordona necklace on him, and Hilton, seeing that the game is over, has just turned State’s evidence and confessed that he and Bradley stole it. That should be sufficient to take care of Bradley.”
Mary turned again to Mr. Morton. “Then I prefer to have it all remain as it has been—unknown. I do not want even the profit out of this of having Jack’s name.”
Then came a quick set to the jaw of this man long accustomed to having his own way. “But I can publicly proclaim you to be my daughter!”
“But you will not,” she returned quietly, “since I ask you not to.”
The set look continued for a moment. Then it relaxed.
“All right—just as you say.” He drew an envelope from an inner pocket. “But if you will not accept my fortune, you cannot escape Jack’s, for it is this moment automatically and legally yours.” From the envelope—it was the one Loveman had addressed in the car—he drew out three slips of paper and handed them to her. “There it is—three checks totaling one hundred and eighty thousand dollars. And you do not need to reveal yourself as Jack’s widow to get the money, since the checks are made out to ‘Cash.’ All you need to do is to deposit them.”
She gazed at the checks, then looked up at him. “If Jack had had no wife, I suppose his fortune would revert to you.”
“Naturally.”
“You understand, I can make nothing out of this—nothing.” Slowly she tore up the checks. “I can be of no service to you?—or Jack?”
“None. Except in ways you have refused.”