“Well — I— Well, I just wanted to know what I’m accused of, that’s all.”
Bertha thoughtfully lit a cigarette. “Anything else?”
“Anything else! Isn’t that enough?”
Bertha didn’t say anything.
“Anyway,” Belder went on, “they’re accusing me of having burnt up my wife’s will. Good Lord, I never even thought about a thing like that. When I put all my property in my wife’s name, she made a will leaving everything to me. Now they’re saying she left a new will. That’s news to me. The fact she might have made a new will never even entered my head. I supposed, of course, her will left everything to me.”
“That’s bad.”
“What do you mean?”
“Gives you a motive for murdering her.”
There was exasperation on Belder’s face. “That’s the way they put a man on the spot. If I knew about that other will, I’m supposed to have burnt it. If I didn’t, I’m supposed to have killed Mabel to get the property.”
Bertha said, “Or you might have killed her to get the property, then found the new will and burned it up.”