‘So, he’s going to trial, we’ll have to see what a jury make of it all,’ said Bullock as he read the paper, his pipe in the corner of his mouth, ‘but it’s not iron cast, not by any stretch of the imagination.’
‘I know, as we said at the time, a clever lawyer can make all his actions sound worthy and credible, especially since he declared those envelopes he got from the Caunts.’
‘Aye, that were dead clever were that, but who knows how fat those envelopes were when he ‘e got ‘em and how thin they were when he handed ‘em in.’
‘That’s the problem, it cannot be proved where that the money found in his attic came from, he’ll stick to his story that it’s from off-course betting and it can’t be proved otherwise. He’s going to walk,’ Yarrow said in exasperation.
‘Aye, ‘tis a bugger right enough
