The Murder of Roger Ackroyd / Убийство Роджера Экройда

‘If his death was an accident-’

‘He was murdered, Mrs Ackroyd,’ I said brutally.

She gave a little cry.

‘No theory of accident will hold water for a minute.’

Mrs Ackroyd looked at me in distress. I had no patience with what I thought was her silly fear of unpleasantness.

‘If there’s an inquest, I–I shan’t have to answer questions and all that, shall I?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know what will be necessary,’ I answered. ‘I imagine Mr Raymond will take the brunt of it off you. he knows all the circumstances, and can give 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 the 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 today. 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 leave.’

‘Certainly,’ agreed the secretary.

‘I’ll take you up now… oh! I forgot. The door’s locked.’

Inquiry from Parker elicited the information that Inspector raglan was in the housekeeper’s room asking a few supplementary questions. A few minutes later the inspector joined the party in the hall, bringing the key with him. he unlocked the door and we passed into the lobby and up the small staircase. At the top of the stairs the door into Ackroyd’s bedroom stood open. Inside the room it was dark, the curtains were drawn, and the bed was turned down just as it had been last night.

The inspector drew the curtains, letting in the sunlight, and geoffrey raymond went to the top drawer of a rosewood bureau.

‘He kept his money like that, in an unlocked drawer. Just fancy,’ commented the inspector.

The secretary flushed a little.

‘Mr Ackroyd had perfect faith in the honesty of all the servants,’ he said hotly.

‘Oh! quite so,’ said the inspector hastily.