The Daffodil Mystery

by Edgar Wallace

  CHAPTER XXVI

  IN MRS. RIDER'S ROOM

  There was a deep silence. Tarling could feel his heart thumping almostnoisily.

  "After I had left Lyne's Store," she said, "I had decided to go to motherto spend two or three days with her before I began looking for work. Mr.Milburgh only went to Hertford for the weekends, and I couldn't stay inthe same house with him, knowing all that I knew.

  "I left my flat at about half-past six that evening, but I am not quitesure of the exact time. It must have been somewhere near then, because Iwas going to catch the seven o'clock train to Hertford. I arrived at thestation and had taken my ticket, and was stooping to pick up my bag, whenI felt a hand on my arm, and turning, saw Mr. Milburgh. He was in a stateof great agitation and distress, and asked me to take a later train andaccompany him to the Florentine Restaurant, where he had taken a privateroom. He told me he had very bad news and that I must know.

  "I put my bag in the cloak-room and went off with him, and over thedinner--I only had a cup of tea, as a matter of fact--he told me that hewas on the verge of ruin. He said that Mr. Lyne had sent for a detective(which was you), and had the intention of exposing him, only Mr. Lyne'srage against me was so great, that for the moment he was diverted fromhis purpose.

  "'Only you can save me,' said Milburgh.

  "'I?' I said in astonishment, 'how can I save you?'

  "'Take the responsibility for the theft upon yourself,' he said. 'Yourmother is involved in this heavily.'

  "'Does she know?'

  "He nodded. I found afterwards that he was lying to me and was preyingupon my love for mother.

  "I was dazed and horrified," said the girl, "at the thought that poordear mother might be involved in this horrible scandal, and when hesuggested that I should write a confession at his dictation and shouldleave by the first train for the Continent until the matter blew over, Ifell in with his scheme without protest--and that is all."

  "Why did you come to Hertford to-night?" asked Tarling.

  Again she smiled.

  "To get the confession," she said simply "I knew Milburgh would keep itin the safe. I saw him when I left the hotel--he had telephoned to me andmade the appointment at the shop where I slipped the detectives, and itwas there that he told me----" she stopped suddenly and went red.

  "He told you I was fond of you," said Tarling quietly, and she nodded.

  "He threatened to take advantage of that fact, and wanted to show you theconfession."

  "I see," said Tarling, and heaved a deep sigh of relief. "Thank God!" hesaid fervently.

  "For what?" she asked, looking at him in astonishment.

  "That everything is clear. To-morrow I will arrest the murderer ofThornton Lyne!"

  "No, no, not that," she said, and laid her hand on his shoulder, herdistressed face looking into his, "surely not that. Mr. Milburgh couldnot have done it, he could not be so great a scoundrel."

  "Who sent the wire to your mother saying you were not coming down?"

  "Milburgh," replied the girl.

  "Did he send two wires, do you remember?" said Tarling.

  She hesitated.

  "Yes, he did," she said, "I don't know who the other was to."

  "It was the same writing anyway," he said.

  "But----"

  "Dear," he said, "you must not worry any more about it. There is a tryingtime ahead of you, but you must be brave, both for your own sake and foryour mother's, and for mine," he added.

  Despite her unhappiness she smiled faintly.

  "You take something for granted, don't you?" she asked.

  "Am I doing that?" he said in surprise.

  "You mean--" she went redder than ever--"that I care enough for you--thatI would make an effort for your sake?"

  "I suppose I do," said Tarling slowly, "it's vanity, I suppose?"

  "Perhaps it is instinct," she said, and squeezed his arm.

  "I must take you back to your mother's place," he said.

  The walk from the house to the station had been a long and tedious one.The way back was surprisingly short, even though they walked at snail'space. There never was a courting such as Tarling's, and it seemed unrealas a dream. The girl had a key of the outer gate and they passed throughtogether.

  "Does your mother know that you are in Hertford?" asked Tarling suddenly.

  "Yes," replied the girl. "I saw her before I came after you."

  "Does she know----"

  He did not care to finish the sentence.

  "No," said the girl, "she does not know. Poor woman, it will break herheart. She is--very fond of Milburgh. Sometimes he is most kind tomother. She loves him so much that she accepted his mysterious comingsand goings and all the explanations which he offered, without suspicion."

  They had reached the place where he had picked up the wallet, and abovehim gloomed the dark bulk of the portico with its glass-house atop. Thehouse was in darkness, no lights shone anywhere.

  "I will take you in through the door under the portico. It is the way Mr.Milburgh always comes. Have you a light?"

  He had his electric lamp in his pocket and he put a beam upon thekey-hole. She inserted the key and uttered a note of exclamation, for thedoor yielded under her pressure and opened.

  "It is unlocked," she said. "I am sure I fastened it."

  Tarling put his lamp upon the lock and made a little grimace. The catchhad been wedged back into the lock so that it could not spring out again.

  "How long were you in the house?" he asked quickly.

  "Only a few minutes," said the girl. "I went in just to tell mother, andI came out immediately."

  "Did you close the door behind you when you went in?"

  The girl thought a moment.

  "Perhaps I didn't," she said. "No, of course not--I didn't come back thisway; mother let me out by the front door."

  Tarling put his light into the hall and saw the carpeted stairshalf-a-dozen feet away. He guessed what had happened. Somebody had seenthe door ajar, and guessing from the fact that she had left it open thatshe was returning immediately, had slipped a piece of wood, which lookedto be and was in fact the stalk of a match, between the catch of thespring lock and its sheath.

  "What has happened?" asked the girl in a troubled voice.

  "Nothing," said Tarling airily. "It was probably your disreputablestep-father did this. He may have lost his key."

  "He could have gone in the front door," said the girl uneasily.

  "Well, I'll go first," said Tarling with a cheerfulness which he was farfrom feeling.

  He went upstairs, his lamp in one hand, an automatic pistol in the other.The stairs ended in a balustraded landing from which two doors opened.

  "That is mother's room," said the girl, pointing to the nearest.

  A sense of impending trouble made her shiver. Tarling put his arms abouther encouragingly. He walked to the door of the room, turned the handleand opened it. There was something behind the door which held it close,and exerting all his strength he pushed the door open sufficiently far toallow of his squeezing through.

  On the desk a table-lamp was burning, the light of which was hidden fromthe outside by the heavily-curtained windows, but it was neither at thewindow nor at the desk that he was looking.

  Mrs. Rider lay behind the door, a little smile on her face, the haft of adagger standing out with hideous distinctness beneath her heart.