“They were given to his secretary to be transcribed; then Mr. Milbers would read them and correct them for final revision. After that, they’d go into his notebook. He had dozens of notebooks filled with data, and when he’d get—”
“How about these pads?” Bertha asked. “The way he wrote, a pad didn’t last him very long.”
“I’ll say it didn’t. Sometimes I’ve seen—”
“Where’d he get the extras from?”
Mrs. Cranning indicated a panelled bookcase. “Supplies are in there. He always kept a sheaf of pencils properly sharpened, a whole stack of these writing pads, and extra—”
Bertha brushed past her and walked over to the cabinet. She jerked open the door, looked at the orderly rows of stationery and supplies, then turned suddenly to Mrs. Cranning and said, “What makes you think Paul took it?”
“Took what?”
“Took the ten thousand dollars.”
“Why, I never thought any such thing, Mrs. Cool. You’re positively insulting. I don’t think you realize that Paul is my son-in-law and a very dutiful—”
“Does he play the races?” Bertha asked.