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There was a flaw in this reasoning because the death of Thornton Lyne would be more likely to precipitate the discovery of the manager's embezzlements there would be an examination of accounts and everything would come out. Milburgh himself was not unmindful of this argument in his favour, as was to be revealed. As against this, Tarling thought, it was notorious that criminals did foolish things.
"It is my duty as a police officer to warn you that anything you now say will be taken down and used as evidence against you at your trial." "Wait, wait!" said Milburgh. His voice was husky and thick. He looked round. "Can I have a glass of water?" he begged, licking his dry lips. Tarling brought the refreshment, which the man drank eagerly.
"The man spoke as though he were telling the truth, and something within me convinces me that he was not lying. And yet the whole thing is incredible." "Of course, Milburgh has had time to make up a pretty good story," warned Whiteside. "He is a fairly shrewd man, this Milburgh, and it was hardly likely that he would tell us a yarn which was beyond the range of belief."
"What are you going to do?" repeated Milburgh, but the Chinaman made no reply. He produced from a belt beneath his blouse a wicked-looking knife, and the manager opened his mouth to shout. He was beside himself with terror, but any cause for fear had yet to come.
Happily he was interrupted, probably as a result of Milburgh telling him that Miss Odette Rider had been spirited away." He looked back to the drooping figure by the side of the bed. "He's a little bigger than I," he said, "but I think some of my clothes will fit him." He made a hasty search of his wardrobe and came back with an armful of clothes.
Milburgh had heard the last words of his employer, his face did not betray the fact. His smile was set, and not only curved the lips but filled the large, lustreless eyes. Tarling gave him a rapid survey and drew his own conclusions. The man was a born lackey, plump of face, bald of head, and bent of shoulder, as though he lived in a perpetual gesture of abasement.
"I went into Lyne's Store one day and one of the employees was rude to me. I shouldn't have taken much notice, but an officious shop-walker dismissed the girl on the spot, and when I pleaded for her reinstatement, he insisted that I should see the manager. I was ushered into a private office, and there I saw Mr. Milburgh and realised the kind of double life he was living.
"And left the pistol behind?" said Tarling again. "And Milburgh found it!" Ling Chu's story was not difficult to believe. It was less difficult to believe that he was lying. There is no inventor in the world so clever, so circumstantial, so exact as to detail, as the Chinaman.
The knowledge that Ling Chu was on the track of the kidnapper had served as an opiate to his jagged nerves; otherwise he could not have stayed and listened to the statement Milburgh was preparing to make.
"I saw her before I came after you." "Does she know " He did not care to finish the sentence. "No," said the girl, "she does not know. Poor woman, it will break her heart. She is very fond of Milburgh. Sometimes he is most kind to mother. She loves him so much that she accepted his mysterious comings and goings and all the explanations which he offered, without suspicion."
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