“It contained a Christmas present from my father,” he said. “Two first editions of Scott.”

“Christmas!” Abbott was stung to the ejaculation.

“It was tucked away in my drawer for some months,” continued Roger, icily. “I took it out today and wrapped a birthday present for my wife in it. So it has quite pleasant associations. I carried it all the way from here to the Yard. It was folded up in my raincoat pocket when you saw me this morning. I went to Estelle’s in Oxford Street and bought a twin set. For my wife,” he added with a savage note in his voice. “Are there any more intimate details you want to know?”

“Now, West —” began Abbott.

“ ‘Now West’ be damned!” growled Roger. “This is an outrageous visit. I may be a policeman, but I have some rights in law.”

Mark began to whistle a dirge. Roger swung round on him.

“Is that necessary? The piano’s still there.”

“I was only trying to while away the time. Ah! Sounds of progress.” Footsteps, this time of the women, sounded cm the stairs. Janet was first and she hurried in.

“Nothing at all on my person !” she declared. “I must say the officer made a job of it. Mr Abbott, perhaps you are satisfied now that my husband is not a renegade policeman?” She stared at the paper and snapped : “What are you doing with that?”

“He thinks the filthy lucre was wrapped up in it,” said Roger. “I’ve been giving him the history of it. Next time I bring you a present I ought to wrap it in newspaper or it will be used as evidence against me.” He thrust his hands in his pockets. Now that the search was over, except for this room, he felt much better. He insisted on staying while the room was searched methodically. Nothing was left out of place, perhaps because the work was done under Abbott’s cold eyes. When the man had finished, Roger eyed Abbott steadily and, after a prolonged silence, asked :