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Updated: May 14, 2025
The new-comer was a newspaper boy, who pushed a bundle of evening papers through the iron bars and went off again. Tarling waited until he heard the door of the cottage or lodge close. Then he made a circuit of the house, hoping to find another entrance. There was evidently a servants' entrance at the back, leading from the lane, but this too was closed.
Tarling," she said, "that you have sold Lyne's Store." "That's true," said Tarling. "There are very many reasons why I do not want to go into the business, or stay in London." She did not look at him, but played with the blades of grass she had plucked. "Are you going abroad?" she asked. "We are," said Tarling. "We?" she looked at him in surprise. "Who are we?"
It was I who opened it when I heard of the murder. Then, thinking that I should get into trouble for sticking my nose into police business, I told Mr. Whiteside that Mr. Lyne had opened it." "He didn't receive the telegram?" asked Tarling. "No, sir." The two detectives looked at one another. "Well, what do you make of that, Whiteside?"
"I have a warrant for your arrest, Milburgh, on a charge of wilful murder, arson, forgery, and embezzlement." "Wilful murder!" Milburgh's voice was high and squeaky and his shaking hands went to his mouth. "You cannot charge me with wilful murder. No, no, no! I swear to you I am innocent!" "Where did you see Thornton Lyne last?" asked Tarling, and the man made a great effort to compose himself.
Milburgh would not commit suicide, and the information was superfluous that Sam Stay had murdered Mrs. Rider. It was the knowledge that this vengeful lunatic knew where Odette Rider was staying which made Tarling sweat. "Where is Mr. Whiteside?" he asked. "He has gone to Cambours Restaurant to meet somebody, sir," said the sergeant. The somebody was one of Milburgh's satellites at Lyne's Store.
Once he was thrown out from Wing Fu's tea-house, where he had been smoking opium. Also there was another trouble do you remember?" The Chinaman looked him straight in the eyes. "I am forgetting," he said. "This white-face was a bad man. I am glad he is dead." "Humph!" said Tarling, and dismissed his retainer.
"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.
Who had " She stopped suddenly, and the detective saw her lips tighten together, as though to restrain her speech. Then suddenly she covered her face with her hands. "Oh, it's terrible, terrible!" she whispered. "I never thought, I never dreamed oh, it is terrible!" Tarling laid his hand gently on her shoulder. "Miss Rider," he said, "you suspect somebody of this crime. Won't you tell me?"
"I just hate asking you," he said, "but " "Show me how to do it," she interrupted and he guided her. He felt disloyal a very traitor, and perhaps she realised what he was thinking, for she laughed as she wiped her stained finger tips. "Duty's duty," she mocked him, "and now tell me this are you going to keep me under observation all the time?" "For a little while," said Tarling gravely.
"You see how the fog is we always get them thick about here it's rather late in the year for fogs..." Tarling cut short his lecture on meteorology, buttoned up his coat, and turned out of the hotel in the direction of the nearest underground station.
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