“June,” corrected Blunt.

 

“Just so, June it was. Now, as I was saying, it wasn’t you with Mr.

 

Ackroyd at nine-thirty this evening?”

 

Blunt shook his head.

 

“Never saw him after dinner,” he volunteered.

 

The inspector turned once more to Raymond.

 

“You didn’t overhear any of the conversation going on, did you, sir?”

 

“I did catch just a fragment of it,” said the secretary, “and, supposing as I

did that it was Dr. Sheppard who was with Mr. Ackroyd, that fragment struck me

as distinctly odd. As far as I can remember, the exact words were these. Mr.

Ackroyd was speaking. ‘The calls on my purse have been so frequent of late’—that

is what he was saying—‘of late, that I fear it is impossible for me to accede to

your request....’ I went away again at once, of course, so did not hear any

more. But I rather wondered because Dr. Sheppard——”

 

“——Does not ask for loans for himself or subscriptions for others,” I finished.

 

“A demand for money,” said the inspector musingly. “It may be that here we have