formal evidence of identification.”

 

The lawyer assented with a little bow.

 

“I really don’t think there is anything to dread, Mrs. Ackroyd,” he said. “You

will be spared all unpleasantness. Now, as to the question of money, have you

all you need for the present? I mean,” he added, as she looked at him

inquiringly, “ready money. Cash, you know. If not, I can arrange to let you have

whatever you require.”

 

“That ought to be all right,” said Raymond, who was standing by. “Mr.

 

Ackroyd cashed a cheque for a hundred pounds yesterday.”

 

“A hundred pounds?”

 

“Yes. For wages and other expenses due to-day. At the moment it is still

intact.”

 

“Where is this money? In his desk?”

 

“No, he always kept his cash in his bedroom. In an old collar-box, to be

accurate. Funny idea, wasn’t it?”

 

“I think,” said the lawyer, “we ought to make sure the money is there before I