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Updated: May 28, 2025
"Dr. van Heerden stated to our representative that the man had represented that he was a friend of the late John Millinborn, but was anxious to get to Canada. He had produced excellent credentials, and Dr. van Heerden, in a spirit of generosity, offered to assist him.
Here John Millinborn had preserved a few pheasants in the early days of his occupancy of the Lodge on the hill. As Kitson entered one side of the plantation he heard a rustling noise, as though somebody were moving through the undergrowth. It was too heavy a noise for a bolting rabbit or a startled bird to make, and he peered into the thick foliage.
He walked back to the bedside, and the lawyer came behind him. John Millinborn seemed to be in an uneasy sleep, and after an examination by the doctor the two men walked back to the sitting-room. "The excitement has been rather much for him. I suppose he has been making his will?" "Yes," said Kitson shortly.
With a view to future contingencies, she examined the contents of the cupboard and was arrested by a thin volume which bore no inscription or title on its blank cover. She opened it, and on the title page read: "The Millinborn Murder."
"I am afraid he is dead," he said in a low voice. "Dead!" the girl stared at him. "Oh no! Not dead!" Van Heerden nodded. "Heart failure," he said. "The same kind of heart failure that killed John Millinborn," said a voice behind him. "The cost of the Green Rust is totalling up, doctor." The girl swung round. Mr. Beale was standing at her elbow, but his steady eyes were fixed upon van Heerden.
For these you killed John Millinborn and the man Prédeaux. But you shall not " "Bang!" The explosion roared thunderously in the confined space of the vault. Beale felt the wind of the bullet and turned, pistol upraised.
He was evidently on his way to see John Millinborn the day my unhappy friend was murdered, and it was the recognition of his daughter in the palm-court of the Grand Alliance which produced a fainting-fit to which he was subject." "But how could he recognize the daughter? Had he seen her before?" For answer Kitson took from his pocket a leather folder and opened it. There were two photographs.
He was killed because, during the absence of Mr. Kitson in the village, the doctor forced from the dying man a secret which up till then he had jealously preserved. When Kitson returned he found his friend, as he thought, in extremis, and van Heerden also thought that John Millinborn would not speak again. "Something different occurred at the Grand Alliance Hotel.
He had thought vaguely that days, even weeks, might pass before the end came. "Not recover consciousness?" he repeated in a whisper. Instinctively he was drawn to the room where his friend lay and the doctor followed him. John Millinborn lay on his back, his eyes closed, his face a ghastly grey. His big hands were clutching at his throat, his shirt was torn open at the breast.
Kitson set his teeth and, stepping to the bedside, pulled down the covers. He stepped back with a cry, for from the side of John Millinborn protruded the ivory handle of a knife. Dr. van Heerden's surgery occupied one of the four shops which formed the ground floor of the Krooman Chambers.
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