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This is the second jar I've had to-day." "The second?" said Tarling. He put the question idly, for his mind was absorbed in this new and to him tremendous aspect of the crime. Thornton Lyne had been killed by his pistol! That to him was the most staggering circumstance which had been revealed since he had come into the case. "Yes," Whiteside was saying, "it's the second setback."
"Won't you please tell me?" Her head was still bent and her voice was so low as to be almost inaudible. "Tell you what?" she asked. "What you know of this business," he said. "Don't you realise how every new development brings you more and more under suspicion?" "What business do you mean?" He hesitated. "The murder of Thornton Lyne? I know nothing of that."
I felt my responsibilities very keenly, and I felt that if Mr. Lyne would not accept my protestations of innocence, there was nothing left for me but to quit this world." "In other words, you contemplated suicide?" said Whiteside. "You have accurately diagnosed the situation," said Milburgh ponderously. "Miss Rider had been dismissed, and I was on the point of ruin.
Lyne is probably framing up a charge against you that is to say, inventing a charge of theft." "Of theft?" she cried in indignant amazement. "Against me? Of theft? It's impossible that he could be so wicked!" "It's not impossible that anybody could be wicked," said Tarling of the impassive face and the laughing eyes. "All that I know is that he even induced Mr.
China rang with the achievements of Jack Oliver Tarling, or, as the Chinese criminal world had named him in parody of his name, "Lieh Jen," "The Hunter of Men." Lyne judged all people by his own standard, and saw in this unemotional man a possible tool, and in all probability a likely accomplice.
"We have enough theories. Tell us what happened. Then we will draw our own conclusions." "Very good, sir," replied Milburgh courteously. "By the time I had telephoned it was half-past nine o'clock. You will remember that I had wired to Mr. Lyne to meet me at the flat at eleven. Obviously there was no reason why I should go back to the flat until a few minutes before Mr.
They were ladies' handkerchiefs, so we may start on the supposition that there is a woman in the case." Tarling nodded. "Now another peculiar feature of the case, which happily has escaped the attention of those who saw the body first and gave particulars to the newspapers, was that Lyne, though fully dressed, wore a pair of thick felt slippers.
"I suggest that whoever killed Thornton Lyne found it convenient, for some reason best known to himself or herself, to ornament the body as it was found, and the flowers were got from here." "Not from the girl's flat at all?" "I'm sure of that," replied Tarling emphatically. "In fact, I knew that this morning when I'd seen the daffodils which you had taken to Scotland Yard."
"I am afraid I don't understand you, Mr. Lyne." Odette Rider looked gravely at the young man who lolled against his open desk. Her clear skin was tinted with the faintest pink, and there was in the sober depths of those grey eyes of hers a light which would have warned a man less satisfied with his own genius and power of persuasion than Thornton Lyne. He was not looking at her face.
Our natures will not adapt themselves to this abstinence from fresh air, until Providence shall fit us up with new bodies, having no lungs in them. Did you ever hear of Dr. Lyne, the eccentric Irish physician? Dr. Lyne held that no house was wholesome, unless a dog could get in under every door and a bird fly out at every window.
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