The Mother Hunt (Rex Stout Library)

Well… since I'm telling you I want you to understand. Dick and I were married two years ago it will be two years next month. We were in love, I still think we were, but I admit that for me there was this too, that he was a famous man, that I would be Mrs. Richard Valdon. And for hint there was my well, who I was. I was an Armstead. I didn't know how much that meant to him until after we were married, when he realized that I was sick and tired of being an Armstead.

She took a breath. He had a sort of a Don Juan reputation before he married me, but it was probably exaggerated those things often are. For two months we were completely… She stopped and her eyes closed. In a moment they opened. Then was nothing for me but us, and I think for him too. I'm sure. After that I simply don't know, I only know it wasn't the same. During that year, the last year of his life, he may have had one woman, or two, or a dozen I just don't know. He could have had, I know that. So the baby what did I say? It's likely that it could have happened. You understand?

Wolfe nodded. So far. And your problem?

The baby, of course. I intended to have one, or two or three, I sincerely did, and Dick wanted to, but I wanted to wait. I put it off. When he died that was hard, maybe the hardest, that he had wanted me to have a baby and I had put it off. Now there is one, and I have it. She pointed at the slip of paper on Wolfe's desk. I think what that says is right. I think a boy should live in his father's house, and certainly he should have his father's name. But the problem is, was Richard Valdon this baby's father? She gestured. There!

Wolfe snorted. Pfui. Never to be solved and you know it. Homer said it: no man can know who was his father. Shakespeare said it: it is a wise father that knows his own child. I can't help you, madam. No one can.