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Updated: June 15, 2025
Lyne's desk? It was a Colt automatic, and it was loaded." Blank astonishment showed in Mr. Milburgh's eyes. "A loaded pistol?" he asked, raising his eyebrows, "but, my dear good Mr. Tarling, whatever are you talking about? I never found a loaded pistol on Mr. Lyne's desk poor fellow! Mr. Lyne objected as much to these deadly weapons as myself."
Both the factory to the right and the left had made generous offers to acquire the ground, but Mr. Milburgh's landlord had been adamant. There were people who suggested that Mr. Milburgh's landlord was Mr. Milburgh himself. But how could that be? Mr. Milburgh's salary was something under £400 a year, and the cottage site was worth at least £4,000.
He was dressed in his shirt and trousers, and about his body, in an endeavour to stanch the wound, somebody had wrapped a silk night-dress. He was killed in the flat of a small lady, whose name I cannot pronounce, but you will know her." Milburgh's eyes never left the Chinaman's, and he nodded.
"What are you going to do?" asked Milburgh, struggling. "You dog! You fiend!" "With a little brush I will paint capsicum on these places." He touched Milburgh's chest with his long white ringers. "Little by little, millimetre by millimetre my brush will move, and you will experience such pain as you have never experienced before.
"Who is the lady, may I venture to ask, sir?" It was Milburgh who interposed the question. "Miss Rider," replied Lyne. "Miss Rider!" Milburgh's face took on a look of blank surprise, as he gasped the words. "Miss Rider oh, no, impossible!" "Why impossible?" demanded Mr. Lyne sharply. "Well, sir, I meant " stammered the manager, "it is so unlikely she is such a nice girl "
"The meaning is," said Tarling shortly, "that I have been attacked to-night by a man of your build and height, who fired twice at me at close quarters. I have a warrant " Mr. Milburgh's eyes narrowed "I have a warrant to search this house." "For what?" demanded Milburgh boldly. "For a revolver or an automatic pistol and anything else I can find." Milburgh rose.
Milburgh would not commit suicide, and the information was superfluous that Sam Stay had murdered Mrs. Rider. It was the knowledge that this vengeful lunatic knew where Odette Rider was staying which made Tarling sweat. "Where is Mr. Whiteside?" he asked. "He has gone to Cambours Restaurant to meet somebody, sir," said the sergeant. The somebody was one of Milburgh's satellites at Lyne's Store.
It was Milburgh's opportunity. A little fire was burning in the sitting-room. Swiftly he picked the confession from the floor and thrust it into his pocket. On a little table stood a writing cabinet. From this he took a sheet of the hotel paper, crumpled it up and thrust it into the fire. It was blazing when Tarling returned. "What are you doing?" he asked, halting by the side of the couch.
Mary Axe and boarded a westward-bound omnibus. The case abounded in these culs-de-sac which seemed to lead nowhere. Cul-de-sac No. 1 had been supplied by Odette Rider; cul-de-sac No. 2 might very easily lead to the dead end of Milburgh's innocence. He felt a sense of relief, however, that the authorities had acted so promptly in impounding Lyne's books.
The journey to Bond Street remained in Milburgh's memory like a horrible dream. He was not used to travelling on omnibuses, being something of a sybarite who spared nothing to ensure his own comfort. Ling Chu on the contrary had a penchant for buses and seemed to enjoy them. No word was spoken until they reached the sitting-room of Tarling's flat. Milburgh expected to see the detective.
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