Chapter 15 The Witch of Times Square, the False Claims Sector

If you had asked Father Bowen of All Souls Church in Times Square last year if he agreed with the Deuteronomy dogma of "an eye for an eye" the good Anglican would have scolded you - and quoted some King James Bibles The content in it may be the section about the left cheek in verses 38 to 39 of Chapter 5 of Matthew.But if he were asked that question today, Father Bowen would more likely grin and repeat what mortal Ellery Queen had said in the False Claims case. Father Bowen's herd was mainly scattered around West Forty Street, but many black sheep were mixed in.Until last year, one of the most unbearable sights was a jolly old ewe.Vendors, newspaper sellers, bartenders, entertainers, policemen, and other Broadway residents called her a "witch."She looked like an old hag, with long, limp ash-blond hair, cheeks like bark, and tearful blue eyes; she wore a floor-length dress and a hideous cloak, and a hat from a nightclub dumpster. Men's fedora hat turned inside out.The witch lived alone in a basement over Tenth Avenue, and came out at night to sell violets, pectoral gardenias, and tickets under big tents and neon lights.In the mornings, she was of British blood again, named Widggorm—one could usually find her in some all-day pub.There was a row of empty gin and tonic glasses in front of her, and she sang "Son of the Bright Morning" or "The One and Only Foundation of the Church" with a hoarse and cheerful voice.Her record of attendance at the Church of All Souls in Times Square is unremarkable, but one can trust her detailed and passionate account in the confessional.

Her priest toiled in this irritating vineyard, and was not free until one week this winter.Mistaking fresh snow on the sidewalk for her mattress, the witch woke up in Bellevue Hospital with lobar pneumonia in both lobes.She is very ill.Wandering alone in the valley, she saw the light.She sent for Father Bowen, who hurried to trim one of the most stubborn vines in his vineyard.As she was driven home in a cheering ambulance, and Father Bowen held her hand all the way, the sinner finally came to his senses. "Isn't that nice, Father Bowen?" Ellery asked.He tried to turn around on the bed, flinching in pain.Forced to lie down for ten days because of sciatica, he was mad when the priest came to visit.

"Mr. Quinn, the root of the problem is greed." Father Bowen put his thin arms around Ellery and helped him up quickly. "See 1 Timothy, Chapter 6, Verse 10. Miss Widggorm seems to be very rich, by the words of the people in my parish. She has several parcels of treasure of great value, and a fair amount of cash and bonds. The poor creature is certainly a miser. Now that her soul After being reborn, she insisted on sending them all out." "To those greedy bartenders, Father?" "I almost hope so," sighed the old clergyman. "I know at least three people who need the money. But no—it's all going to her only living relative." So Father Bowen Beginning to tell Ellery the wonderful story of the witch's nephew.

Miss Widggorm has a twin sister.Although they look identical in appearance, their tastes are completely different.Miss Widgham, for example, fell in love with gin sprinkles and ale made from various oats at a very young age.And her twin sister thinks booze is the devil's lubricant, and she's as serious as breakfast cereal. Unfortunately for Miss Widggorm, this difference also extends to differences in taste in men.Miss Widgham had fallen in love with a handsome little man with a dark complexion—forty-five years had passed, and she had forgotten whether he was Italian or Spanish.But her sister has a belief in eugenics—"similar talents are more suitable", so she dedicated a girl's heart to a "pure Nordic man".That's what Miss Widggorm told Father Bowen.The man was Eric Gold, a big, quiet Nordic man from Fergus Falls, Minnesota, a priest of the Anglican Church.As for Miss Widgham's Italian or Spaniard, he's a complete rascal.He leaves her with some pleasant but immoral memories and then leaves, preventing her from getting married.Reverend Gord was not such a fool. He asked Miss Widggorm's sister for a holy marriage, which was successfully accepted.

The Gord family gave birth to a son, and when he was eight years old, his parents took him across the ocean to the East.For a short time the priest's wife was in correspondence with her twin sister.But Miss Widggorm's address has become increasingly fickle, and letters from North Korea are taking more and more time to reach her.In the end, communication stopped altogether. "I see," Ellery said, lifting his left leg cautiously, "while this church member of yours is confessing her sins, she's asking you to find her sister." "I inquired through the branch of the church," said Father Bowen, nodding, "and found out that Father Gord and his wife had been killed many years ago—the Japanese before the war were not friendly to Christian missionaries in Korea, Their mission was a complete failure. Their son John reportedly fled to China, but he was never seen again.

"My parishioner at this time showed a surprisingly tenacious side of character." Father Bowen continued, growing more and more agitated, "She insisted that her nephew was alive and that she must find him and bring him to America so that she could hug him before she died and give all her money to He. Maybe you remember the newspaper reports, Mr. Quinn, especially the stuff that the columnists wrote. I won't bother you with the details of our search--it was an expensive and hopeless search. . . Hope is for people like me who don't have faith, and as for Miss Widggorm, I must say she has always been confident."

"Then nephew John has been found?" "Yes, Mr. Quinn. Found two." "what?" "He came to my place and it was split in two. Both had just returned from North Korea and both insisted they were John Gold, the son of Eric and Clementine Gold. , the other person is a shameless fake. The scene is extremely embarrassing. To be honest, I am really in big trouble this time." "I think they look alike?" "Not at all. The resemblance ends only in the fact that they are both fair-haired, and both are about thirty-five—the right age. Neither of them resembles each other, nor does Gord and Mrs. Gord look like Mrs. Old photographs from the census. But John Gold has no authenticated photographs, so even the likeness doesn't tell the story."

"But I thought," protested Ellery, "that a visa, passport, identification, record, or background—" "Mr. Quinn, you forgot that North Korea has not been a garden of peace in recent years." Father Bowen said decisively, "These two young people seem to be close friends, and they both work for the same oil company in China. When the Communist Party of China gained power, they absconded—illegally to North Korea, just in time for the North Korean attack. When the Communist army occupied Seoul, they fled with a large group of refugees. Both young men showed writing Identification papers in John Gold's name, two people flown in from different airports."

"How do they explain the identity papers?" "Both said that another person stole his credentials and made a copy - except of course the passport photo was not copied. Both said they told the other about having an aunt in the US. There was no way to talk to North Korea confirms, and unfortunately, the records of the Chinese oil company are not available. All diplomatic inquiries to senior Chinese Communist Party officials are ignored. You believe me, Mr. Quinn, there is no way to check their identity." Ellery was surprised to find himself sitting up in bed, a position he hadn't managed to do for the past week. "What about the witch?" he marveled.

"She's confused, Mr. Quinn. The last time she saw her nephew was when he was seven years old, before his parents took him to the Far East. She spent a happy week with him in New York— By the way, she kept a diary that week. She still has the diary—" "That's enough," Ellery said. "She'd just ask everyone what happened that week. Such a fun childhood adventure, a real nephew would remember some of it." "She's done it already," said Father Bowen sadly. "Everybody can remember a little bit. They all said bitterly that the other one could have answered it too, because he told him everything—" Sorry, I may have used my pronouns a bit confusingly. The poor woman is exhausted trying to get one of the two in. She's ready to split the money--I won't!" said the old shepherd solemnly , “Mr. Quinn, can you see a way out?”

Ellery asked every question he could think of, and it was a lot. "There, Father," he said at last, shaking his head, and Father Bowen's thin face darkened suddenly. "I can't see..." Suddenly, he stopped shaking his head. "Think of something?" cried the priest. "Maybe I can find it! The way to the truth... yes... where are those two Mr. Johns now, Father?" "At my place." "Can you have them here within... er, an hour?" "Oh, yes," Bowen said seriously. "Yes, of course!" An hour later, the door snapped shut when the elderly priest ushered the two angry young men into Ellery's bedroom. "Mr. Quinn, I've had a hard time keeping them from doing violence to each other. This is Ellery Queen, gentlemen," said Father Bowen coldly. An absurd incident occurred!" "I don't care who he is or what he says," bellowed the first young man, "I'm John Gold." "You piece of shit," shouted the second young man, "how dare you imitate me!" "Do you want to be wrung out by zombies?" "Just try it, you—" "Stand side by side, please," Ellery said, "facing that window." They all fell silent. Ellery eyed them sharply.The first young man was blond, tall and broad-shouldered, with brown eyes that seemed to have been squinted by the sun, an upturned nose, large feet, and hands scarred by work.The second young man was small, with sand-yellow hair, blue squinted eyes and a crooked nose, small feet, and sensitive-looking hands.They were as dissimilar as two cats in an alley dump, yet both fists were clenched and they glared at each other.It was impossible to tell which side was genuinely annoyed, which was the witch's nephew, and which was the imposter. "Did you see that?" said Father Bowen, desperately. "I did, Father," said Ellery, smiling through pain. "I'd be happy to point out to you which one is John Gold." The two young men glared at each other, as if they were waiting for each other to make a fool of themselves. "Well, gentlemen," said Ellery, "there's a big police officer waiting in the next room. His name is Tom Willie, and he'll break any of your backs without breaking a sweat. Bow Father En, how do I know?" "Yes, Mr. Quin," said the priest, perplexed, "you haven't asked these two young men a single question." "Father, would you mind going to that bookshelf for me," Ellery said, smiling again, "and fetching that big, thick, sinister-looking book wrapped in white paper?  … Thank you." ...Gentlemen, this book has a taboo title, Forensic Medicine and Legal Biology, and is written by two of the most authoritative experts in this field. They are Mendrius and Claggett. We Come and see, on page five hundred or so...Father, you said that Miss Widggomb's sister was exactly like her in appearance. Since Miss Widggomb's eyes were blue, Mrs. Gord must have Blue eyes, too. And you told me that Miss Widggorm's description of Priest Gord was 'pure Nordic', and from ethnology, John Gord's father also had blue eyes... Ah, I found it. Permit me to read to you the second paragraph on page 563 of this authoritative work. "Two people with blue eyes," said Ellery, looking at the large book, "can only have blue-eyed children. They cannot have brown-eyed children." "He's gone!" cried Father Bowen. "Willy!" Ellery yelled. "Get him!" Sergeant Willie appeared out of nowhere like a conjuring, and caught the criminal with ease as usual. As the officer took the tall, burly, brown-eyed impersonator away, the diminutive, blue-eyed, authentic John Gold excitedly attempted to thank Ellery in a mix of English, Chinese and Korean.The priest lifted the large closed book from Ellery's bed and opened it to page five hundred and sixty-three.His smooth face wrinkled in confusion, removed the paper slipcover, and glanced at the cover. "Mr. Quinn," exclaimed Father Bowen, "but this book isn't called Forensic Medicine and Biology at all? It's just an old Who's Who!" "Really?" Ellery said guiltily. "I thought—" "No," said Father Bowen gravely. "The fact is that Mendriius and Craggett didn't exist. You made up that part about blue eyes and brown eyes! Didn't you?" "It used to be said in the books," said Ellery sadly, "but it's hard to say now—too many honest blue-eyed parents have blamelessly produced brown-eyed children. But our brown-eyed Eye impostors don't know, do they? And now," Ellery turned to blue-eyed young John, who was blindsided, "I'll tell you about my commission fee. Sorry, Father, I'm going to be swearing —turn me over on this damn bed!"