CHAPTER XXXV
MILBURGH'S STORY
"I do not intend," said Mr. Milburgh in his best oracular manner,"describing all the events which preceded the death of the late ThorntonLyne. Nor will I go to any length to deal with his well-known and evennotorious character. He was not a good employer; he was suspicious,unjust, and in many ways mean. Mr. Lyne was, I admit, suspicious of me.He was under the impression that I had robbed the firm of veryconsiderable sums of money--a suspicion which I in turn had longsuspected, and had confirmed by a little conversation which I overheardon the first day I had the pleasure of seeing you, Mr. Tarling."
Tarling remembered that fatal day when Milburgh had come into the officeat the moment that Lyne was expressing his views very freely about hissubordinate.
"Of course, gentlemen," said Milburgh, "I do not for one moment admitthat I robbed the firm, or that I was guilty of any criminal acts. Iadmit there were certain irregularities, certain carelessnesses, forwhich I was morally responsible; and beyond that I admit nothing. If youare making a note"--he turned to Whiteside, who was taking down thestatement in shorthand, "I beg of you to make a special point of mydenial. Irregularities and carelessnesses," he repeated carefully."Beyond that I am not prepared to go."
"In other words, you are not confessing anything?"
"I am not confessing anything," agreed Mr. Milburgh with heavy gravity."It is sufficient that Mr. Lyne suspected me, and that he was preparedto employ a detective in order to trace my defalcations, as he termedthem. It is true that I lived expensively, that I own two houses, one inCamden Town and one at Hertford; but then I had speculated on the StockExchange and speculated very wisely.
"But I am a sensitive man, gentlemen; and the knowledge that I wasresponsible for certain irregularities preyed upon my mind. Let us say,for example, that I knew somebody had been robbing the firm, but that Iwas unable to detect that somebody. Would not the fact that I was morallyresponsible for the finances of Lyne's Stores cause me particularunhappiness?"
"You speak like a book," said Whiteside, "and I for one don't believe aword you say. I think you were a thief, Milburgh; but go on your ownsweet way."
"I thank you," said Mr. Milburgh sarcastically. "Well, gentlemen, mattershad come to a crisis. I felt my responsibility. I knew somebody had beenrobbing the house and I had an idea that possibly I would be suspected,and that those who were dear to me"--his voice shook for a moment, broke,and grew husky--"those who were dear to me," he repeated, "would bevisited with my sins of omission.
"Miss Odette Rider had been dismissed from the firm of Lyne's Stores inconsequence of her having rejected the undesirable advances of the lateMr. Lyne. Mr. Lyne turned the whole weight of his rage against this girl,and that gave me an idea.
"The night after the interview--or it may have been the same night--Irefer to the interview which Mr. Tarling had with the late ThorntonLyne--I was working late at the office. I was, in fact, clearing up Mr.Lyne's desk. I had occasion to leave the office, and on my return foundthe place in darkness. I re-connected the light, and then discovered onthe desk a particularly murderous looking revolver.
"In the statement I made to you, sir," he turned to Tarling, "I said thatthat pistol had not been found by me; and indeed, I professed theprofoundest ignorance of its existence. I regret to confess to you that Iwas telling an untruth. I did find the pistol; I put it in my pocket andI took it home. It is probable that with that pistol Mr. Lyne was fatallyshot."
Tarling nodded.
"I hadn't the slightest doubt about that, Milburgh. You also had anotherautomatic pistol, purchased subsequent to the murder from John Wadham'sof Holborn Circus."
Mr. Milburgh bowed his head.
"That is perfectly true, sir," he said. "I have such a weapon. I live avery lonely kind of life, and----"
"You need not explain. I merely tell you," said Tarling, "that I knowwhere you got the pistol with which you shot at me on the night I broughtOdette Rider back from Ashford."
Mr. Milburgh closed his eyes and there was resignation written largely onhis face--the resignation of an ill-used and falsely-accused man.
"I think it would be better not to discuss controversial subjects," hesaid. "If you will allow me, I will keep to the facts."
Tarling could have laughed at the sublime impertinence of the man, butthat he was growing irritable with the double strain which was beingimposed upon him. It was probable that, had not this man accused OdetteRider of the murder, he would have left him to make his confession toWhiteside, and have gone alone in his hopeless search for the taxicabdriven by Sam Stay.
"To resume," continued Mr. Milburgh, "I took the revolver home. You willunderstand that I was in a condition of mind bordering upon a nervousbreakdown. I felt my responsibilities very keenly, and I felt that if Mr.Lyne would not accept my protestations of innocence, there was nothingleft 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. Hermother would be involved in the crash--those were the thoughts which ranthrough my mind as I sat in my humble dining-room in Camden Town. Thenthe idea flashed upon me. I wondered whether Odette Rider loved hermother sufficiently well to make the great sacrifice, to take fullresponsibility for the irregularities which had occurred in the accounts'department of Lyne's Stores, and clear away to the Continent until thematter blew over. I intended seeing her the next day, but I was stilldoubtful as to whether she would fall in with my views. Young peoplenowadays," he said sententiously, "are terribly selfish."
"As it happened, I just caught her as she was leaving for Hertford, andI put the situation before her. The poor girl was naturally shocked, butshe readily fell in with my suggestion and signed the confession whichyou, Mr. Tarling, so thoughtfully burnt."
Whiteside looked at Tarling.
"I knew nothing of this," he said a little reproachfully.
"Go on," said Tarling. "I will explain that afterwards."
"I had previously wired the girl's mother that she would not be home thatnight. I also wired to Mr. Lyne, asking him to meet me at Miss Rider'sflat. I took the liberty of fixing Miss Rider's name to the invitation,thinking that that would induce him to come."
"It also covered you," said Tarling, "and kept your name out of thebusiness 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. I begged thatshe would not go near the flat, and I promised that I myself would gothere, pack the necessary articles for the journey and take them down ina taxi to Charing Cross."
"I see," said Tarling, "so it was you who packed the bag?"
"Half-packed it," corrected Mr. Milburgh. "You see, I'd made a mistake inthe time the train left. It was only when I was packing the bag that Irealised it was impossible for me to get down to the station in time. Ihad made arrangements with Miss Rider that if I did not turn up I wouldtelephone to her a quarter of an hour before the train left. She was toawait me in the lounge of a near-by hotel. I had hoped to get to her atleast an hour before the train left, because I did not wish to attractattention to myself, or," he added, "to Miss Rider. When I looked at mywatch, and realised that it was impossible to get down, I left the bag asit was, half-packed and went outside to the tube station and telephoned."
"How did you get in and out?" asked Tarling. "The porter on duty at thedoor said he saw nobody."
"I went out the back way," explained Mr. Milburgh. "It is really thesimplest thing in the world to get into Miss Rider's basement flat byway of the mews behind. All the tenants have keys to the back door sothat they can bring their cycles in and out, or get in their coals."
"I know that," said Tarling. "Go on."
"I am a little in advance of the actual story," said Milburgh. "Thebusiness of packing the bag takes my narrative along a little fartherthan I int
ended it to go. Having said good-bye to Miss Rider, I passedthe rest of the evening perfecting my plans. It would serve no usefulpurpose," said Milburgh with an airy wave of his hand, "if I were to tellyou the arguments I intended putting before him."
"If they did not include the betrayal of Miss Rider, I'm a Dutchman,"said Tarling. "I pretty well know the arguments you intended using."
"Then, Mr. Tarling, allow me to congratulate you upon being athought-reader," said Milburgh, "because I have not revealed my secretthoughts to any human being. However, that is beside the point. Iintended to plead with Mr. Lyne. I intended to offer him the record ofyears of loyal service to his sainted father; and if the confession wasnot accepted, and if he still persisted in his revengeful plan, then, Mr.Tarling, I intended shooting myself before his eyes."
He said this with rare dramatic effect; but Tarling was unimpressed, andWhiteside looked up from his notes with a twinkle in his eye.
"You hobby seems to be preparing for suicide and changing your mind," hesaid.
"I am sorry to hear you speak so flippantly on a solemn subject," saidMilburgh. "As I say, I waited a little too long; but I was anxious forcomplete darkness to fall before I made my way into the flat. This I dideasily because Odette had lent me her key. I found her bag with nodifficulty--it was in the dining-room on a shelf, and placing the caseupon her bed, I proceeded, as best I could, for I am not very familiarwith the articles of feminine toilette, to put together such things as Iknew she would require on the journey.
"I was thus engaged when, as I say, it occurred to me that I hadmistaken the time of the train, and, looking at my watch, I saw to myconsternation that I should not be able to get down to the station intime. Happily I had arranged to call her up, as I have already told you."
"One moment," said Tarling. "How were you dressed?"
"How was I dressed? Let me think. I wore a heavy overcoat, I know," saidMr. Milburgh, "for the night was chilly and a little foggy, if youremember."
"Where was the revolver?"
"In the overcoat pocket," replied Milburgh immediately.
"Had you your overcoat on?"
Milburgh thought for a moment.
"No, I had not. I had hung it up on a hook at the foot of the bed, nearthe alcove which I believe Miss Rider used as a wardrobe."
"And when you went out to telephone, had you your overcoat?"
"No, that I am perfectly certain about," said Milburgh readily. "Iremember thinking later how foolish it was to bring an overcoat out andnot use it."
"Go on," said Tarling.
"Well, I reached the station, called up the hotel, and to my surprise andannoyance Miss Rider did not answer. I asked the porter who answered my'phone call whether he had seen a young lady dressed in so-and-so waitingin the lounge, and he replied 'no.' Therefore," said Mr. Milburghemphatically, "you will agree that it is possible that Miss Rider was noteither at the station or at the hotel, and there was a distinctpossibility that she had doubled back."
"We want the facts," interrupted Whiteside. "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 hadtelephoned it was half-past nine o'clock. You will remember that I hadwired to Mr. Lyne to meet me at the flat at eleven. Obviously there wasno reason why I should go back to the flat until a few minutes before Mr.Lyne was due, to let him in. You asked me just now, sir," he turned toTarling, "whether I had my overcoat on, and I can state most emphaticallythat I had not. I was going back to the flat with the intention ofcollecting my overcoat, when I saw a number of people walking about themews behind the block. I had no desire to attract attention, as I havetold you before, so I stood waiting until these people, who wereemployees of a motor-car company which had a garage behind the flat,had dispersed.
"Now, waiting at the corner of a mews on a cold spring night is a coldbusiness, and seeing that it would be some time before the mews would beclear, I went back to the main street and strolled along until I came toa picture palace. I am partial to cinematograph displays," explained Mr.Milburgh, "and, although I was not in the mood for entertainment, yet Ithought the pictures would afford a pleasant attraction. I forget thename of the film----"
"It is not necessary that you should tell us for the moment," saidTarling. "Will you please make your story as short as possible?"
Milburgh was silent for a moment.
"I am coming now to the most extraordinary fact," he said, "and I wouldask you to bear in mind every detail I give you. It is to my interestthat the perpetrator of this terrible crime should be brought tojustice----"
Tarling's impatient gesture arrested his platitudes, but Mr. Milburgh wasin no way abashed.
"When I got back to the mews I found it deserted. Standing outside thedoor leading to the storerooms and cellars was a two-seater car. Therewas nobody inside or in attendance and I looked at it curiously, notrealising at the moment that it was Mr. Thornton Lyne's. What didinterest me was the fact that the back gate, which I had left locked, wasopen. So, too, was the door leading to what I would call the undergroundroom--it was little better--through which one had to pass to reachOdette's flat by the back way.
"I opened the door of the flat," said Mr. Milburgh impressively, "andwalked in. I had extinguished the light when I went, but to my surpriseI saw through the transom of Odette's bedroom that a light was burningwithin. I turned the handle, and even before I saw into the room, mynose was assailed by a smell of burning powder.
"The first sight which met my gaze was a man lying on the floor. He wason his face, but I turned him over, and to my horror it was Mr. ThorntonLyne. He was unconscious and bleeding from a wound in the chest," saidMr. Milburgh, "and at the moment I thought he was dead. To say that I wasshocked would be mildly to describe my terrible agitation.
"My first thought--and first thoughts are sometimes right--was that hehad been shot down by Odette Rider, who for some reason had returned.The room, however, was empty, and a curious circumstance, about which Iwill tell you, was that the window leading out to the area of the flatwas wide open."
"It was protected with heavy bars," said Tarling, "so nobody could haveescaped that way."
"I examined the wound," Milburgh went on, nodding his agreement withTarling's description, "and knew that it was fatal. I do not think,however, that Mr. Thornton Lyne was dead at this time. My next thoughtwas to stanch the wound, and I pulled open the drawer and took out thefirst thing which came to my hand, which was a night-dress. I had to finda pad and employed two of Odette's handkerchiefs for the purpose. Firstof all I stripped him of his coat and his vest, a task of somedifficulty, then I fixed him up as best I could. I knew his case washopeless, and indeed I believe," said Mr. Milburgh soberly, "I believehe was dead even before the bandaging was completed.
"Whilst I was doing something I found it was possible to forget theterrible position in which I would find myself if somebody came into theroom. The moment I saw the case was hopeless, and had a second to think,I was seized with a blind panic. I snatched my overcoat from the peg andran out of the room; through the back way into the mews, and reachedCamden Town that night, a mental and physical wreck."
"Did you leave the lights burning?" asked Tarling.
Mr. Milburgh thought for a moment.
"Yes," he said, "I left the lights burning."
"And you left the body in the flat?"
"That I swear," replied Milburgh.
"And the revolver--when you got home was it in your pocket?"
Mr. Milburgh shook his head.
"Why did you not notify the police?"
"Because I was afraid," admitted Mr. Milburgh. "I was scared to death. Itis a terrible confession to make, but I am a physical coward."
"There was nobody in the room?" persisted Tarling.
"Nobody so far as I could see. I tell you the window was open. You say itis barred--that is true, but a very thin person could slip between thosebars. A woman----"
"None whatever," replied Milburgh firmly.
Tarling had opened his mouth to say something, when a telephone bellshrilled, and he picked up the instrument from the table on which itstood.
It was a strange voice that greeted him, a voice husky and loud, asthough it were unused to telephoning.
"Tarling the name?" shouted the voice quickly.
"That is my name," said Tarling.
"She's a friend of yours, ain't she?" asked the voice.
There was a chuckle. A cold shiver ran down Tarling's spine; for, thoughhe had never met the man, instinct told him that he was speaking to SamStay.
"You'll find her to-morrow," screamed the voice, "what's left of her. Thewoman 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.
"What exchange was that?" he asked, and the operator after a momentsupplied the information that it was Hampstead.
The Daffodil Mystery Page 35