Free Crossword Mystery by E.R. Punshon

right.”
    â€œHe owed none, then, at the time of the accident?”
    â€œMurder,” corrected Winterton grimly. “You don’t believe it now, but you will.”
    And this prophecy he uttered was one that Bobby was destined to recall upon a certain occasion now not far away.
    â€œCan you tell me,” he asked, “where all your three nephews were at the time – it – happened?”
    â€œMiles was in London. He had gone up to see Frazer’s, the big contract people. Miles is a P.W. man – public works, that is – you know. Frazer’s have promised him a job at Liverpool, but they won’t be starting for some time yet. Colin was attending some race-meeting somewhere. I don’t remember which, but whatever racing was on that date, he would be there. James was in Paris, I suppose. He didn’t come over for the funeral; laid up with a cold or influenza, I think it was.”
    â€œNone of them had any expectation of benefiting under Mr. Archibald’s will?”
    â€œThey each had a small legacy of two hundred and fifty, duty free. That’s all. Most of his money went to his wife and the children, naturally.”
    â€œMay I ask about your own will?”
    â€œWell,” Winterton answered, a little slowly, a little uncomfortably, and yet evidently feeling the question was one that ought to be answered, “I suppose the fact is, I ought to make a new one. I’ve been meaning to for long enough, but I’ve kept putting it off. When my brother and I started in business, we made wills leaving everything we had to each other. That seemed fair at the time, because of our business relations when the death of one might have ruined the other. Archy made a new will, of course, when he got married. I ought to have made a new one, too, but I kept putting it off.”
    â€œDo you think your nephews know about that?”
    â€œThey might; I don’t suppose so; they may perhaps. I’ve never said anything about it, and of course they haven’t either.”
    â€œIn the event of anything happening to you, then,” Bobby said slowly, “I take it the will would be void, the person to whom you left your property having died before you?”
    â€œI don’t know; I hadn’t thought of that,” Winterton answered. “No, I think the lawyer who drew them up for us put in something about the money going to heirs and assigns. I think I remember now. We both wanted to avoid any intestacy; there was a relative we were on bad terms with at the time. We wanted to make sure he didn’t cut in. But he’s been dead these twenty years or more.”
    Â â€œThen I take it that means none of your nephews stand to benefit by your will unless you make a fresh one?”
    â€œYou mean, perhaps, I had better not make one just now?” Mr. Winterton asked.
    â€œThat is for you to decide, sir,” Bobby answered gravely.
    From where they were standing the village and the road leading from it to Fairview were plainly visible. Hitherto, the electric lights had been shining along the road and in the windows of some of the cottages, but now they all went out together. Mr. Winterton gave a little laugh.
    â€œThat’s Mrs. Cooper,” he said, “and half past ten by her kitchen clock. She thinks no one in the village ought to want a light after then, and no one at all ought to be out of doors any later. So out go the lights. She would like to do the same thing for Fairview, too, I daresay, but I drew the line there. Well, shall we go back now?”
    It was a question that made Bobby feel not quite certain that Mr. George Winterton was not rather more subject to the authority of his housekeeper’s clear, direct mind than he himself either realised or would ever have acknowledged. For indeed there are so few of us who really know what we want that the influence of a mind and will that does is often very great. Without waiting