“I’m sorry if this distresses you―”
“You know what you are?” yelled Macgowan from the sideboard.
“You’re equally divided between a bottom and a nose!”
“It doesn’t distress me, Ellery,” said Laurel with a rather unsuccessful smile. “I don’t know a thing about where I came from. I was one of those storybook babies ― really left on a doorstep. Of course, Daddy had no right to keep me ― a bachelor and all. But he hired a reliable woman and kept me for about a year before he even reported me. Then he had a lot of trouble. They took me away from him and there was a long court squabble. But in the end they couldn’t find out a thing about me, nobody claimed me, and he won out in court and was allowed to make it a legal adoption. I don’t remember any of that, of course. He tried for years afterwards to trace my parents, because he was always afraid somebody would pop up and want me back and he wanted to settle the matter once and for all. But,” Laurel made a face, “he never got anywhere and nobody ever did pop up.”
Ellery nodded. “The reason I asked, Laurel, was that it occurred to me that this whole business... the circumstances surrounding your foster father’s death, the threats to Roger Priam... may somehow tie in with your past.”
Laurel stared.
“Now there,” said Macgowan, “there is a triumph of the detectival science. How would that be, Chief? Elucidate.”
“I toss it into the pot for what it’s worth,” shrugged Ellery, “admitting as I toss that it’s probably worth little or nothing. But Laurel,” he said, “whether that’s a cockeyed theory or not, your past may enter this problem. In another way. I’ve been a little bothered by you in this thing. Your drive to get to the bottom of this, your wanting revenge―”
“What’s wrong with that?” Laurel sounded sharp.
“What’s wrong with it is that it doesn’t seem altogether normal. No, wait, Laurel. The drive is overintense, the wish for revenge almost neurotic. I don’t get the feeling that it’s like you ― like the you I think you are.”