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Updated: June 28, 2025
If there is anybody who knows more it is Beale." "Mr. Beale?" she said incredulously. "Mr. Beale," he repeated. "You know the story of the murder: you say you have read it. Millinborn was dying and I had left the room with Kitson when somebody entered the window and stabbed John Millinborn to the heart.
Millinborn left the whole of his fortune to Miss Cresswell, but he placed upon me a solemn charge that she was not to benefit or to know of her inheritance until she was married. He had a horror of fortune-hunters. This was the secret which van Heerden surprised I fear with violence from poor John as he lay dying. Since then he has been plotting to marry the girl.
"Van Heerden won't escape the third time. His presence will be a little more than a coincidence," said the superintendent. Beale laughed. "There will be no third time," he said shortly, "van Heerden is not a fool." "Have you any idea what the secret was that he wanted to get from old Millinborn?" asked the detective. Beale nodded.
The deceased, a man named Jackson, has been staying at the hotel for a week and was on the point of departure for Canada. At the last moment Dr. van Heerden, who was assisting the unfortunate man, discovered that Jackson was no other than the wanted man in the Millinborn murder, a crime which most of our readers will recall.
Yes, my dear, that was your parent, a dissolute ruffian whom you will do well to forget. I heard John Millinborn tell his lawyer that your mother died of a broken heart, penniless, as a result of your father's cruelty and unscrupulousness, and I should imagine that that was the truth." "My father!" she murmured. She lay, her face as white as the pillow, her eyes closed.
Beale has made another discovery, the particulars of which I do not know." There was a little pause. "Why not tell the girl?" said the superintendent. Kitson shook his head. "I have thought it out, and to tell the girl would be tantamount to breaking my faith with John Millinborn. No, I must simply shepherd her. The first step we must take" he turned to Beale "is to get her away from this place.
The mysterious murder of John Millinborn had given him a certain advertisement which had not been without its advantages. The fact that he had been in attendance on the millionaire had brought him a larger fame.
When I took this trust from poor John Millinborn I never realized all that it meant or all the responsibility it entailed. How could I imagine that the detective I employed to protect the girl from fortune hunters would marry her?
John Millinborn, broad-shouldered, big-featured, a veritable giant in frame and even in his last days suggesting the enormous strength which had been his in his prime, had been an outdoor man, a man of large voice and large capable hands; James Kitson had been a student from his youth up and had spent his manhood in musty offices, stuffy courts, surrounded by crackling briefs and calf-bound law-books.
"I didn't know that you were such a famous person I have been reading about the Millinborn murder." "You have been reading about the Millinborn murder?" he said steadily, looking into her eyes. "An unpleasant case and one I should like to forget." "I thought it was awfully thrilling," she said. "It read like a detective story without a satisfactory end." He laughed.
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