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Updated: June 23, 2025
He came back to the little sitting-room where Milburgh had been left with the Inspector and apparently he was unruffled by his failure. "Now, Mr. Milburgh," he said brusquely, "I want to ask you: Have you ever seen a piece of paper like this before?" He took a slip from his pocket and spread it on the table. Milburgh looked hard at the Chinese characters on the crimson square, and then nodded.
It's awful, awful!" Whiteside, thoughtful, preoccupied; Milburgh, his face twitching with fear, watched the scene curiously. "I'm beaten," said Tarling and at that moment the telephone bell rang again. He lifted the receiver and bent over the table, and Whiteside saw his eyes open in wide amazement. It was Odette's voice that greeted him. "It is I, Odette!" "Odette! Are you safe?
"Are there any marks of a man beside us three?" "I was coming to that," said Ling Chu. "There is a very faint trace of a man who came early, because the wet footsteps are over his; also he left, but there is no sign of him on the gravel, only the mark of a wheel-track." "That was Milburgh," said Tarling. "If a foot has not touched the ground," explained Ling Chu, "it would leave little trace.
"I am convinced that, whoever she may suspect, she knows nothing of the murder," he said shortly. "Then she does suspect somebody?" Tarling nodded. "Who?" Again Tarling hesitated. "I think she suspects Milburgh," he said. He put his hand in the inside of his jacket and took out a pocket case, opened it, and drew forth the two cards bearing the finger impressions he had taken of Odette Rider.
"I could get very little from the travelling inspector, except that his daughter was under the impression that the lady had a grudge against Mr. Lyne, and that she spoke even more disparagingly of Mr. Milburgh." Tarling had risen and slipped off his silk dressing-gown before the other could put away his notebook.
Milburgh, since he had seen no newspapers that day. "Listen," Sam went on. "Have you ever loved anybody?" Mr. Milburgh was silent. To him Odette Rider was nothing, but about the woman Odette Rider had called mother and the woman he called wife, circled the one precious sentiment in his life. "Yes, I think I have," he said after a pause. "Why?"
Apparently the daughter of the travelling ticket inspector is a nurse at the hospital, and she told her father that this Miss Stevens, before she recovered consciousness, made several references to a 'Mr. Lyne' and a 'Mr. Milburgh'!" Tarling was sitting erect now, watching the other through narrowed lids. "Go on," he said quietly.
Tarling put the girl from him and looked at the smirking manager. One comprehensive glance the detective gave him, noted the cycling clips and the splashes of mud on his trousers, and understood. "So you were the cyclist, eh?" he said. "That's right," said Milburgh, "it is an exercise to which I am very partial." "What do you want?" asked Tarling, alert and watchful.
It means that we've got to organise a system of interim accounts, and you as a business man will understand just what that means." "You work pretty hard, Mr. Milburgh?" said Tarling. "Why, yes, sir," smiled Milburgh. "I've always worked hard." "You were working pretty hard before Mr. Lyne was killed, were you not?" asked Tarling. "Yes " hesitated Milburgh. "I can say honestly that I was."
"I thank you," said Mr. Milburgh sarcastically. "Well, gentlemen, matters had come to a crisis. I felt my responsibility. I knew somebody had been robbing the house and I had an idea that possibly I would be suspected, and that those who were dear to me" his voice shook for a moment, broke, and grew husky "those who were dear to me," he repeated, "would be visited with my sins of omission.
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