Milbers said, “We’ll discuss that in greater detail later on, but, in the meantime, I’m looking for the ten thousand dollars which my cousin had at the time of his death. I want to know what’s become of it.”
“Say, wait a minute,” Paul said with a cunning gleam in his eyes. “You want to know what’s become of it. Where do you get that noise? You’re talking as though you had some interest in that ten thousand dollars.”
“Well I certainly have,” Christopher Milbers said. “I’m his cousin.”
“Cousin, hell! You get ten thousand bucks under the will, and that’s all. We’re the ones that are entitled to that ten thousand dollars. We’re the ones that should get all worked up about it. It’s no put-in of yours what happens to it, and don’t forget the fact that Mrs. Cranning is the executor of the estate. I guess we’re going to quit tearing the house upside down looking for ten thousand smackers that you insinuate we’ve stolen right now. We’ll make an inventory of things in an orderly way. If we find the ten grand, we’ve found it. If we don’t it’s our loss, not yours.”
Christopher Milbers stood looking at them, swivelling his eyes from one to the other, an expression of growing dismay on his face.
“I guess you and your detective Mrs. Cool, are all done here,” Paul went on, “all washed up.”
“Paul,” Mrs. Cranning said, “you don’t need to be crude about it. However, as far as that’s Concerned, Mr. Milbers has heard the will read and it was very clear. I’m in charge.”
“That will,” Christopher Milbers declared, “is illegal. It was made under undue influence.”
Paul Hanberry laughed, a mocking, taunting laugh. “Try proving that.”
“Then it’s a forgery.”