“Here’s a drawer back here,” she said.
“Of course, he couldn’t have got to that with all the pads of paper in the way,” Christopher Milbers observed. “Still—”
Bertha opened the drawer.
The others pushed forward. “Anything in there?” Milbers asked.
“Some pen points, stamps, and a sealed envelope,” Bertha said. “Let’s see what this is. The envelope looks promising.”
She opened the envelope, pulling out an oblong of folded paper.
“Well, what is it?” Mrs. Cranning asked as Bertha Cool’s silent interest in the paper gave evidence of its importance.
Bertha Cool said, “I have in my hand a document dated the twenty-fifth day of January 1942, and purporting to be the last will and testament of Harlow Milbers. Any of you folks know anything about this?”
“A will!” Christopher exclaimed, pushing forward.
Paul Hanberry said, “Wait a minute. What date did you say that was, January twenty-fifth? Why, I’ll bet that’s—”