“Yes.”
“April too?”
“Yes.”
“And Turner presumably is a mealymouthed liar?”
“No. He must — we merely said — he must be mistaken.”
“God bless you.” Wolfe was disgusted. “He’d better. You merely said! It’s a wonder you’re not all locked up! Was Prescott in on this?”
“No. No one knew of it except April and May and me — and Mr. Stauffer. Not even my husband, until this morning.” June fluttered a hand at him. “And I appeal to you, Mr. Wolfe, to — to understand. Ordinarily I’m not a fool, none of us is. But we’ve been so shocked and bewildered and helpless — all the sense we had was knocked out of us. For my husband and me this came at the end of months of frightful strain — you must understand—”
She faltered to a stop. Wolfe said gruffly, “My understanding wouldn’t help you any. You can get that anywhere. Tell me what Miss Karn said to your sister disguised as Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“She wanted a million dollars.”
“You mean she offered to sign over all but a million?”