The Westing Game

Westing's Wake

Sandy was dead. Crow had been arrested. The fourteen remaining heirs of Samuel W. Westing sat in Judge Ford's living room wondering what had happened. "At least the guilt is not on our hands," Mr. Hoo said, trying to convince himself that a clear conscience was worth two hundred million dollars. "Crow's going to jail," Otis Amber wailed, "and all you do is pat yourself on the back for not being a stoolie." "Let me remind you that Crow confessed," Sydelle Pulaski reminded him. "Crow only confessed to being the answer, nothing more," Angela said, pressing her hand against the tearing pain in her cheek. "Even if Sam Westing wasn't murdered, like the judge said," Doug Hoo argued, "there was nothing wrong with Sandy until he drank from the flask Crow filled." "If Crow is innocent," Theo said, "that means the murderer is still here in this room." Flora Baumbach tightened her grip on Turtle, who was nestled in her arms. "Poor Crow," Otis Amber muttered, "poor Crow." "Poor Sandy, you should say," Turtle responded angrily. "Sandy's the one who's dead. Sandy was my friend." "You should have remembered that before you kicked him," Denton Deere remarked. "I never kicked Sandy, never." The intern turned sideways in his chair in case of attack, but the kicker stayed slumped in sadness. "Well, someone kicked him today. That was one mean bruise he had on his shin." "That's a lie, that's a disgusting lie," Turtle shouted. "The only person I kicked today was Barney Northrup and he deserved it. I didn't even see Sandy until tonight at the Westing house. Right, Baba?" "That's right," Flora Baumbach said, handing Turtle a Westing Facial Tissue. But Turtle was not about to cry again in front of everybody, like a baby. If only she could forget how he looked, suffering, dying: the twisted body, the chipped tooth, that horrible twitch, that one eye (that was the worst) that one eye blinking. Sandy used to wink at her like that when he was alive. When he was alive. Turtle blew her nose loudly to keep from sobbing. "Sandy was my friend, too," Theo said. "I was playing chess with him in the game room, but he didn't know I knew." "Why is everybody lying?" Turtle slumped further into Flora Baumbach's arms. Sandy was her friend, not Theo's. And Sandy didn't know how to play chess. The judge, too, was surprised. "How can you be certain it was Mr. McSouthers you were playing with, Theo?" "That's what partners are for. Doug watched the chess table to see who was moving the white pieces," Theo replied. Again the track star thrust his I'm-number-one fingers high in the air. Dumb jock, thought Mr. Hoo. Doesn't he realize this is a wake? But he is the champ. My son's the champ. "Doug win," said Madame Hoo. They did not suspect her anymore. Good, very good. But it was so sad about the door guard. Theo went on in a mournful voice. "I'm sort of glad Sandy didn't go back to the chessboard after my last move. He never knew he lost the game." "Did you checkmate him?" the judge asked. Could she have been right about McSouthers after all? No. A disguise was one thing, but Sam Westing lose a game of chess? Never. "Well, not exactly checkmate," Theo replied, "but Sandy would have had to resign. I took his queen." The queen's sacrifice! The famous Westing trap. Judge Ford was certain now, but there were still too many unanswered questions. "I'm afraid greed got the best of you, Theo. By taking white's queen you were tricked into opening your defense. I know, I've lost a few games that way myself." Theo recalled the position of the chessmen, thankful that his skin was too dark to reveal his blushing. Turtle almost smiled. That Theo thinks he's so smart; well, Sandy showed him, Sandy beat him at chess. But Sandy doesn't play chess. And she never kicked him either. Bucktoothed Barney Northrup was the one she kicked, not Sandy. But Sandy had the sore shin. Buck-toothed, chip-toothed, the crooked false teeth in the dentist's office (Sandy's dentist). "Cheer up, my friend, the game's not over. You can still win. I hope you do." Those were the last words Sandy said to her. He winked when he said that. Winked! One eye winked! Dead Sandy had winked at her! Sandy had winked! "Oh my," Flora Baumbach exclaimed as Turtle suddenly bolted from her arms. "Angela, could I see your copy of the will?" Angela handed it over (she could not refuse her sister anything, now). Turtle leaned against the dark window, poring over Sydelle Pulaski's transcript of the will: FIRST. I returned to live among my friends and my enemies. I came home to seek my heir, aware that in doing so I faced death. And so I did. "To seek my heir," Turtle repeated to herself. Today I have gathered together my nearest and dearest, my sixteen nieces and nephews (Sit down, Grace Windsor Wexler!) to view the body of your Uncle Sam for the last time. Tomorrow its ashes will be scattered to the four winds. Winds? "Windkloppel," Turtle said aloud. Her mother had been right all along about being related to Sam Westing. "Windkloppel," Grace mumbled. Jake patted her head. "Windkloppel," the judge repeated. At least she could explain that. "Crow married a man named Windkloppel, who then changed his name to Westing. Berthe Erica Crow is the former wife of Samuel W. Westing. They had one child, a daughter, who drowned the night before her wedding. It was rumored that she killed herself rather than marry the man her mother had chosen for her. If Sam Westing blamed his wife for their daughter's death, then the sole purpose of this game was to punish Crow." Crow was Sam Westing's ex-wife? The heirs found that hard to believe. "Then why would Mr. Westing give her a chance to inherit the estate?" Theo asked. "M-maybe he wanted his enemies to for-g-give him," Chris said. "Ha!" said Mr. Hoo, one of the enemies. Turtle read on: SECOND. I, Samuel W. Westing, hereby swear that I did not die of natural causes. My life was taken from me—by one of you! The police are helpless. The culprit is far too cunning to be apprehended for this dastardly deed. "What does dastardly mean?" "Oh my!" Flora Baumbach was relieved to hear Jake Wexler define the word as "cowardly." I, alone, know the name. Now it is up to you. Cast out the sinner, let the guilty rise and confess. THIRD. Who among you is worthy to be the Westing heir? Help me. My soul shall roam restlessly until that one is found. For the first time since Sandy died, Turtle smiled. Judge Ford sat in glassy-eyed thought, elbows propped on the desk top, her chin resting on her folded hands. Why, indeed, was Crow an heir? Sam Westing could have pointed his clues at the Sunset Towers cleaning woman without naming her an heir. "Crow's not going to inherit anything, not if she's in jail for murder," Otis Amber complained bitterly. "All your talk about chess and sacrificing queens. Crow's the one who's been sacrificed." "What did you say?" the judge asked. "I said Crow's the one who's been sacrificed." Uttering a low groan, Judge Ford sank her head in her hands. The queen's sacrifice! She had fallen for it again. Westing had sacrificed his queen (Crow), distracting the players from the real game. Sam Westing was dead, but somehow or other he would make his last move. She knew it; she felt it deep in her bones. Sam Westing had won the game. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The heirs stared in amazement. First they are told that Samuel W. Westing was married to their cleaning woman, now a judge is calling herself stupid. It couldn't be true. "Sam Westing wasn't stupid," Denton Deere declared. "He was insane. The last party of the will was sheer lunacy. Happy Fourth of July, it said. This is November." "It's November fifteenth," Otis Amber cried. "It's poor Crow's birthday." Turtle looked up from the will. Crow's birthday? Sandy had bought a striped candle for his wife's birthday, a three-hour candle. The game is still on! Sam Westing came back to seek his heir. "You can still win. I hope you do," he said. How? How? It is not what you have, it's what you don't have that counts. Whatever it was she didn't have, she'd have to find it soon. Without letting the others know what she was looking for. "Judge Ford, I'd like to call my first witness."