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 some one 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 when and where he had found it.

"But possibly this is an old will?"

"I do not think so. In