Free The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie

gravely.
    There was silence. Poirot remained lost in thought for a few minutes. Finally he turned to
     the lawyer again. “Mr. Wells, there is one thing I should like to ask you - that is, if it
     is not against professional etiquette. In the event of Mrs. Inglethorp's death, who would
     inherit her money?”
    The lawyer hesitated a moment, and then replied: “The knowledge will be public property
     very soon, so if Mr. Cavendish does not object - - ”
    “Not at all,” interpolated John.
    “I do not see any reason why I should not answer your question. By her last will, dated
     August of last year, after various unimportant legacies to servants, etc., she gave her
     entire fortune to her stepson, Mr. John Cavendish.”
    “Was not that - pardon the question, Mr. Cavendish - rather unfair to her other stepson,
     Mr. Lawrence Cavendish?”
    “No, I do not think so. You see, under the terms of their father's will, while John
     inherited the property, Lawrence, at his stepmother's death, would come into a
     considerable sum of money. Mrs. Inglethorp left her money to her elder stepson, knowing
     that he would have to keep up Styles. It was, to my mind, a very fair and equitable
     distribution.”
    Poirot nodded thoughtfully. “I see. But I am right in saying, am I not, that by your
     English law that will was automatically revoked when Mrs. Inglethorp remarried?”
    Mr. Wells bowed his head. “As I was about to proceed, Monsieur Poirot, that document is
     now null and void.”
    “Hein!” said Poirot. He reflected for a moment, and then asked: “Was Mrs. Inglethorp
     herself aware of that fact?”
    “I do not know. She may have been.”
    “She was,” said John unexpectedly. “We were discussing the matter of wills being revoked
     by marriage only yesterday.”
    “Ah! One more question, Mr. Wells. You say 'her last will.' Had Mrs. Inglethorp, then,
     made several former wills?”
    “On an average, she made a new will at least once a year,” said Mr. Wells imperturbably.
     “She was given to changing her mind as to her testamentary dispositions, now benefiting
     one, now another member of her family.”
    “Suppose,” suggested Poirot, “that, unknown to you, she had made a new will in favour of
     someone who was not, in any sense of the word, a member of the family - we will say Miss
     Howard, for instance - would you be surprised?”
    “Not in the least.”
    “Ah!” Poirot seemed to have exhausted his questions.
    I drew close to him, while John and the lawyer were debating the question of going through
     Mrs. Inglethorp's papers. “Do you think Mrs. Inglethorp made a will leaving all her money
     to Miss Howard?” I asked in a low voice, with some curiosity.
    Poirot smiled. “No.”
    “Then why did you ask?”
    “Hush!”
    John Cavendish had turned to Poirot. “Will you come with us, Monsieur Poirot? We are going
     through my mother's papers. Mr. Inglethorp is quite willing to leave it entirely to Mr.
     Wells and myself.”
    “Which simplifies matters very much,” murmured the lawyer. “As technically, of course, he
     was entitled - - ” He did not finish the sentence.
    “We will look through the desk in the boudoir first,” explained John, “and go up to her
     bedroom afterwards. She kept her most important papers in a purple despatch-case, which we
     must look through carefully.”
    “Yes,” said the lawyer, “it is quite possible that there may be a later will than the one
     in my possession.”
    “There
    
    
     is
    
    
     a later will.” It was Poirot who spoke.
    “What?” John and the lawyer looked at him startled.
    “Or, rather,” pursued my friend imperturbably, “there
    
    
     was
    
    
     one.”
    “What do you mean - there was one? Where is it now?”
    “Burnt!”
    “Burnt?”
    “Yes. See here.” He took out the charred fragment we had found in the grate in Mrs.
     Inglethorp's room, and handed it to the lawyer with a brief explanation of