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Updated: May 14, 2025
"I'm not blushing," said Tarling. "What about her?" "I've had two men watching her," explained Whiteside, "and whenever she has taken her walks abroad she has been followed, as you know.
He thought he had heard a low moan, and catching the eye of Whiteside, he saw that the Scotland Yard man had detected the same sound. "Sounds like somebody groaning," he said. "Listen!" He bent his head and waited, and presently it came again. In two strides Tarling was at the door of Ling Chu's sleeping place, but it was locked. He stooped to the key-hole and listened, and again heard the moan.
"But I don't understand, Mr. Tarling. A telegram was sent to Mr. Lyne asking him to come to my flat? Did he go to my flat?" Tarling nodded. "I have reason to believe he did," he said gravely. "The murder was committed in your flat." "My God!" she whispered. "You don't mean that! Oh, no, no, it is impossible!" Briefly he recited all his discoveries.
Milburgh twisted his head slowly towards him and smiled. "If you could explain how the body was taken from Odette Rider's flat," he said slowly, "and left in Hyde Park, I could answer you immediately. For to this minute, I believe that Thornton Lyne was killed by Odette Rider." Tarling drew a long breath. "That is a lie," he said. Mr. Milburgh was in no way put out. "Very well," he said.
"But who would commit such an infernal act as that? Why, one of my clerks was nearly burnt to death!" "The man who would commit such an infernal act as that," repeated Tarling slowly, "is the man who has every reason for wishing to avoid an examination of Lyne's accounts." "You don't mean ?"
Lyne, but it would strengthen your position tremendously if you had already detailed the scheme to some person in authority." "Thank you very, very much, Mr. Tarling," she said warmly, and looked up into his face with a smile so sweet, so pathetic, so helpless, that Tarling's heart melted towards her. "And if you don't want a solicitor," he said, "you can depend upon me.
Somebody was watching and apparently thought that she was coming out by the way she went in, waited for a time, and then as she did not reappear, followed her into the building." "And that somebody was Milburgh?" said Whiteside. Tarling made no reply. He had his own views and for the moment was not prepared to argue. "It was obviously Milburgh," said Whiteside.
In his shrewd, clever way he had realised before Tarling himself, that the detective from Shanghai, this heir to the Lyne millions, had fallen under the spell of the girl's beauty, and all his conjectures had been confirmed by the scene he had witnessed, no less than by the conversation he had overheard before the door was opened. He was seeking immunity and safety.
There was a chuckle. A cold shiver ran down Tarling's spine; for, though he had never met the man, instinct told him that he was speaking to Sam Stay. "You'll find her to-morrow," screamed the voice, "what's left of her. The woman who lured him on ... what's left of her...." There was a click, and the receiver was hung up. Tarling was working the telephone hook like a madman.
"It also covered you," said Tarling, "and kept your name out of the business altogether." "Yes," said Mr. Milburgh, as though the idea had not struck him before, "yes, it did that. I had sent Miss Rider off in a hurry.
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