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"That is item number one," continued Whiteside, ticking the item off on his fingers. "Item number two is Mr. Milburgh, an oleaginous gentleman who has been robbing the firm for years and has been living in style in the country on his ill-earned gains. From what he hears, or knows, he gathers, that the jig is up.
Milburgh smiled, but it was an uneasy smile. "I make no accusation," he said, "and as to the murder?" he shrugged his shoulders. "You will understand better when you read the contents of that wallet which I was endeavouring to remove to a place of safety." Tarling picked up the wallet from the table and looked at it. "I shall see the contents of this wallet to-morrow," he said.
They had reached a quiet corner of the Gardens and Milburgh motioned the man to sit beside him on a garden seat. For the first time that day he experienced a sense of confidence in the wisdom of his choice of disguise. The sight of a clergyman speaking with a seedy-looking man might excite comment, but not suspicion.
Before Milburgh knew what was happening, he was lying on the floor, face downwards, with Ling Chu's knee in the small of his back. He felt something like a wire loop slipped about his wrists, and suffered an excruciating pain as the Chinaman tightened the connecting link of the native handcuff. "Get up," said Ling Chu sternly, and, exerting a surprising strength, lifted the man to his feet.
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.
"I am burning the young lady's confession," said Milburgh calmly. "I do not think it is desirable in the interests " "Wait," said Tarling calmly. He lowered the girl's head and sprinkled some of the water on her face, and she opened her eyes with a little shudder. Tarling left her for a second and walked to the fire.
The proprietor's room overlooked the ground floor of the Stores, and Thornton Lyne at the time was visible to his manager, and could not under any circumstances surprise him, so Mr. Milburgh had taken out one volume and read, with more than ordinary interest, the somewhat frank and expansive diary which Thornton Lyne had kept.
"And the revolver when you got home was it in your pocket?" Mr. Milburgh shook his head. "Why did you not notify the police?" "Because I was afraid," admitted Mr. Milburgh. "I was scared to death. It is a terrible confession to make, but I am a physical coward." "There was nobody in the room?" persisted Tarling. "Nobody so far as I could see. I tell you the window was open.
I do not say that Milburgh is honest, or that my suspicions were unfounded. But for the moment I have a much greater business on hand, and you will oblige me if you forget all the things I have said about Milburgh. I will ring for him now." He walked to a long table which ran half the length of the room, took up a telephone which stood at one end, and spoke to the operator. "Tell Mr.
Milburgh didn't want to say such a thing, I give him credit for that," said Tarling slowly, and then gave the gist of the argument, omitting any reference, direct or indirect, to the suspicion which surrounded Milburgh. "So you see," he said in conclusion, "that you ought to be on your guard. I suggest to you that you see a solicitor and put the matter in his hands. You need not move against Mr.
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