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We ordered a sum north of £100,000 to be forfeit under the Proceeds of Crime Act recently. The chap who was found to have it offered three different accounts of its provenance in the first half hour of his chat to the police, and was caught out in two obvious lies.
My colleagues had previously detained the money, three months at a time. Today solicitors sent a letter to the court saying that the forfeiture application was not opposed. So two flourishes of my pen to produce my special can't-read-it court signature and the dosh was on its way to Alistair Darling's eager and sweaty palm. Okay, he still has a few billion to go, but every little helps, as the ads say.