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You suspect a member of your staff of having consistently robbed the firm for many years. A Mr. Milburgh, your chief departmental manager." Lyne stopped him with a gesture and lowered his voice. "I want you to forget that for a little while, Mr. Tarling," he said. "In fact, I am going to introduce you to Milburgh, and maybe, Milburgh can help us in my scheme.
"Now, perhaps you will be kind enough to listen to my story." "I do not intend," said Mr. Milburgh in his best oracular manner, "describing all the events which preceded the death of the late Thornton Lyne. Nor will I go to any length to deal with his well-known and even notorious character. He was not a good employer; he was suspicious, unjust, and in many ways mean. Mr.
He nodded his head wisely, then asked, with a sudden eagerness: "Did he make you a clergyman? He could do wonderful things, could Mr. Lyne, couldn't he? Did you preach over him when they buried him in that little vault in 'Ighgate? I've seen it I go there every day, Mr. Milburgh," said Sam. "I only found it by accident.
I shall see this matter through!" Tarling looked at him. "I admire your nerve," he said, and left the office without another word. Tarling had a brief interview with his assistant Whiteside, and the Inspector, to his surprise, accepted his view of Ling Chu's confession. "I always thought Milburgh was a pretty cool customer," Whiteside said thoughtfully.
"As we always revert to Milburgh," groaned Tarling. "Yes?" "Well, I don't like his assurance," said Whiteside. "It looks as if all our hopes of getting a clue from the examination of Lyne's accounts are fated to be dashed." "There's something in that," said Tarling. "I don't like it myself.
He would have continued retailing reminiscences of his late employer, but Tarling cut him short, and with a curt good night withdrew. Milburgh accompanied him to the front gate and locked the door upon the three men before he went back to his sitting-room smiling quietly to himself. "I am certain that the man was Milburgh," said Tarling. "I am as certain as that I am standing here."
"It also covered you," said Tarling, "and kept your name out of the business altogether." "Yes," said Mr. Milburgh, as though the idea had not struck him before, "yes, it did that. I had sent Miss Rider off in a hurry.
"Now, don't talk nonsense!" he said under his breath, "and listen, my man; if anybody asks you whether you have seen Mr. Milburgh, you haven't, you understand?" "Oh, I understand," said the man. "But I knew you! There's nobody connected with him that I don't remember. He lifted me up out of the gutter, he did. He's my idea of God!"
Spent evening at Chu Han's dancing hall. Got very friendly with a pretty little Chinese girl who spoke pigeon English. Am seeing her to-morrow at Ling Foo's. She is called 'The Little Narcissus. I called her 'My Little Daffodil' " Mr. Milburgh stopped in his reading. "Little Daffodil!" he repeated, then looked at the ceiling and pinched his thick lips.
"Open the gate," said Tarling briefly. "Excuse me while I go and get the key," said Milburgh. "I didn't expect visitors at this hour of the night." He went into the house, took a good look round his room, and then reappeared, taking the key from the pocket of his dressing-gown. It had been there all the time, if the truth be told, but Mr. Milburgh was a cautious man and took few risks.
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