The Greatest Thrillers of Edgar Wallace. Edgar WallaceЧитать онлайн книгу.
have reason to believe it is a girl whom I have summarily dismissed tonight, and whom I wish you to watch.”
The detective nodded.
“This is rather a primitive business,” he said with the first faint hint of a smile he had shown. “Haven’t you your own shop detective who could take that job in hand? Petty larceny is hardly in my line. I understood that this was bigger work—”
He stopped, because it was obviously impossible to explain just why he had thought as much, in the presence of the man whose conduct, originally, had been the subject of his inquiries.
“To you it may seem a small matter. To me, it is very important,” said Mr. Lyne profoundly. “Here is a girl, highly respected by all her companions and consequently a great influence on their morals, who, as I have reason to believe, has steadily and persistently falsified my books, taking money from the firm, and at the same time has secured the goodwill of all with whom she has been brought into contact. Obviously she is more dangerous than another individual who succumbs to a sudden temptation. It may be necessary to make an example of this girl, but I want you clearly to understand, Mr. Tarling, that I have not sufficient evidence to convict her; otherwise I might not have called you in.”
“You want me to get the evidence, eh?” said Tarling curiously.
“Who is the lady, may I venture to ask, sir?”
It was Milburgh who interposed the question.
“Miss Rider,” replied Lyne.
“Miss Rider!”
Milburgh’s face took on a look of blank surprise, as he gasped the words.
“Miss Rider — oh, no, impossible!”
“Why impossible?” demanded Mr. Lyne sharply.
“Well, sir, I meant—” stammered the manager, “it is so unlikely — she is such a nice girl—”
Thornton Lyne shot a suspicious glance at him.
“You have no particular reason for wishing to shield Miss Rider, have you?” he asked coldly.
“No, sir, not at all. I beg of you not to think that,” appealed the agitated Mr. Milburgh, “only it seems so — extraordinary.”
“All things are extraordinary that are out of the common,” snapped Lyne. “It would be extraordinary if you were accused of stealing, Milburgh. It would be very extraordinary indeed, for example, if we discovered that you were living a five-thousand pounds life on a nine-hundred pounds salary, eh?”
Only for a second did Milburgh lose his self-possession. The hand that went to his mouth shook, and Tarling, whose eyes had never left the man’s face, saw the tremendous effort which he was making to recover his equanimity.
“Yes, sir, that would be extraordinary,” said Milburgh steadily.
Lyne had lashed himself again into the old fury, and if his vitriolic tongue was directed at Milburgh, his thoughts were centred upon that proud and scornful face which had looked down upon him in his office.
“It would be extraordinary if you were sent to penal servitude as the result of my discovery that you had been robbing the firm for years,” he growled, “and I suppose everybody else in the firm would say the same as you — how extraordinary!”
“I daresay they would, sir,” said Mr. Milburgh, his old smile back, the twinkle again returning to his eyes, and his hands rubbing together in ceaseless ablutions. “It would sound extraordinary, and it would be extraordinary, and nobody here would be more surprised than the unfortunate victim — ha! ha!”
“Perhaps not,” said Lyne coldly. “Only I want to say a few words in your presence, and I would like you to give them every attention. You have been complaining to me for a month past,” he said speaking with deliberation, “about small sums of money being missing from the cashier’s office.”
It was a bold thing to say, and in many ways a rash thing. He was dependent for the success of his hastily-formed plan, not only upon Milburgh’s guilt, but upon Milburgh’s willingness to confess his guilt. If the manager agreed to stand sponsor to this lie, he admitted his own peculations, and Tarling, to whom the turn of the conversation had at first been unintelligible, began dimly to see the drift it was taking.
“I have complained that sums of money have been missing for the past month?” repeated Milburgh dully.
The smile had gone from his lips and eyes. His face was haggard — he was a man at bay.
“That is what I said,” said Lyne watching him. “Isn’t that the fact?”
There was a long pause, and presently Milburgh nodded.
“That is the fact, sir,” he said in a low voice.
“And you have told me that you suspected Miss Rider of defalcations?”
Again the pause and again the man nodded.
“Do you hear?” asked Lyne triumphantly.
“I hear,” said Tarling quietly. “Now what do you wish me to do? Isn’t this a matter for the police? I mean the regular police.”
Lyne frowned.
“The case has to be prepared first,” he said. “I will give you full particulars as to the girl’s address and her habits, and it will be your business to collect such information as will enable us to put the case in the hands of Scotland Yard.”
“I see,” said Tarling and smiled again. Then he shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t come into this case, Mr. Lyne.”
“Can’t come in?” said Lyne in astonishment. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not my kind of job,” said Tarling. “The first time I met you I had a feeling that you were leading me to one of the biggest cases I had ever undertaken. It shows you how one’s instincts can lead one astray,” he smiled again, and picked up his hat.
“What do you mean? You’re going to throw up a valuable client?”
“I don’t know how valuable you’re likely to be,” said Tarling, “but at the present moment the signs are not particularly encouraging. I tell you I do not wish to be associated with this case, Mr. Lyne, and I think there the matter can end.”
“You don’t think it’s worth while, eh?” sneered Lyne. “Yet when I tell you that I am prepared to give you a fee of five hundred guineas—”
“If you gave me a fee of five thousand guineas, or fifty thousand guineas, I should still decline to be associated with this matter,” said Tarling, and his words had the metallic quality which precludes argument.
“At any rate, I am entitled to know why you will not take up this case. Do you know the girl?” asked Lyne loudly.
“I have never met the lady and probably never shall,” said Tarling. “I only know that I will not be concerned with what is called in the United States of America a ‘frame up.’”
“Frame up?” repeated the other.
“A frame up. I dare say you know what it means — I will put the matter more plainly and within your understanding. For some reason or other you have a sudden grudge against a member of your staff. I read your face, Mr. Lyne, and the weakness of your chin and the appetite of your mouth suggest to me that you are not over scrupulous with the women who are in your charge. I guess rather than know that you have been turned down with a dull, sickening thud by a decent girl, and in your mortification you are attempting to invent a charge which has no substance and no foundation.
“Mr. Milburgh,” he turned to the other, and again Mr. Milburgh ceased to smile, “has his own reasons for complying with your wishes. He is your subordinate, and moreover, the side threat