The Westing Game

by Ellen Raskin

The delivery boy was sixty-two years old, and there was no such person as Barney Northrup.

A dressmaker, a secretary, an inventor, a doctor, a judge. And, oh yes, one was a bookie, one was a burglar, one was a bomber, and one was a mistake. Barney Northrup had rented one of the apartments to the wrong person.

She could have been an interior decorator, a good one, too, if it wasn’t for the pressing demands of so on and so forth.

Judge Ford’s name was the same as her apartment number: Ford, 4D.