CHAPTER XIX

  LING CHU TELLS THE TRUTH

  The firm of Dashwood and Solomon occupied a narrow-fronted building inthe heart of the City of London. Its reputation stood as high as any, andit numbered amongst its clients the best houses in Britain. Both partnershad been knighted, and it was Sir Felix Solomon who received Tarling inhis private office.

  Sir Felix was a tall, good-looking man, well past middle age, ratherbrusque of manner but kindly withal, and he looked up over his glasses asthe detective entered.

  "Scotland Yard, eh?" he said, glancing at Tarling's card. "Well, I cangive you exactly five minutes, Mr. Tarling. I presume you've come to seeme about the Lyne accounts?"

  Tarling nodded.

  "We have not been able to start on these yet," said Sir Felix, "though weare hoping to go into them to-morrow. We're terribly rushed just now, andwe've had to get in an extra staff to deal with this new work theGovernment has put on us--by-the-way, you know that we are not Lyne'saccountants; they are Messrs. Purbrake & Store, but we have taken on thework at the request of Mr. Purbrake, who very naturally wishes to have anindependent investigation, as there seems to be some question ofdefalcation on the part of one of the employees. This, coupled with thetragic death of Mr. Lyne, has made it all the more necessary that anoutside firm should be called in to look into the books."

  "That I understand," said Tarling, "and of course, the Commissioner quiteappreciates the difficulty of your task. I've come along rather toprocure information for my own purpose as I am doubly interested----"

  Sir Felix looked up sharply.

  "Mr. Tarling?" he repeated, looking at the card again. "Why, of course!I understand that letters of administration are to be applied for on yourbehalf?"

  "I believe that is so," said Tarling quietly. "But my interest in theproperty is more or less impersonal at the moment. The manager of thebusiness is a Mr. Milburgh."

  Sir Felix nodded.

  "He has been most useful and helpful," he said. "And certainly, if thevague rumours I have heard have any substantial foundation--namely, thatMilburgh is suspected of robbing the firm--then he is assuredly giving usevery assistance to convict himself."

  "You have all the books in your keeping?"

  "Absolutely," replied Sir Felix emphatically. "The last three books,unearthed by Mr. Milburgh himself, came to us only this morning. In fact,those are they," he pointed to a brown paper parcel standing on a smallertable near the window. The parcel was heavily corded and was securedagain by red tape, which was sealed.

  Sir Felix leaned over and pressed a bell on the table, and a clerk camein.

  "Put those books with the others in the strong-room," he said, and whenthe man had disappeared, staggering under the weight of the heavy volumeshe turned to Tarling.

  "We're keeping all the books and accounts of Lyne's Stores in a specialstrong-room," he said. "They are all under seal, and those seals will bebroken in the presence of Mr. Milburgh, as an interested party, and arepresentative of the Public Prosecutor."

  "When will this be?" asked Tarling.

  "To-morrow afternoon, or possibly to-morrow morning. We will notifyScotland Yard as to the exact hour, because I suppose you will wish to berepresented."

  He rose briskly, thereby ending the interview.

  It was another dead end, thought Tarling, as he went out into St. MaryAxe and boarded a westward-bound omnibus. The case abounded in theseculs-de-sac which seemed to lead nowhere. Cul-de-sac No. 1 had beensupplied by Odette Rider; cul-de-sac No. 2 might very easily lead to thedead end of Milburgh's innocence.

  He felt a sense of relief, however, that the authorities had acted sopromptly in impounding Lyne's books. An examination into these might leadto the discovery of the murderer, and at any rate would dispel the cloudof suspicion which still surrounded Odette Rider.

  He had gone to Dashwood and Solomon to make himself personally acquaintedwith that string in the tangled skein which he was determined to unravel;and now, with his mind at rest upon that subject, he was returning tosettle matters with Ling Chu, that Chinese assistant of his who was nowas deeply under suspicion as any suspect in the case.

  He had spoken no more than the truth when he had told Inspector Whitesidethat he knew the way to deal with Ling Chu. A Chinese criminal--and hewas loath to believe that Ling Chu, that faithful servant, came underthat description--is not to be handled in the Occidental manner; and he,who had been known throughout Southern China as the "Hunter of Men" had areputation for extracting truth by methods which no code of laws wouldsanction.

  He walked into his Bond Street flat, shut the door behind him and lockedit, putting the key in his pocket. He knew Ling Chu would be in, becausehe had given him instructions that morning to await his return.

  The Chinaman came into the hall to take his coat and hat, and followedTarling into the sitting-room.

  "Close the door, Ling Chu," said Tarling in Chinese. "I have something tosay to you."

  The last words were spoken in English, and the Chinaman looked at himquickly. Tarling had never addressed him in that language before, andthe Chinaman knew just what this departure portended.

  "Ling Chu," said Tarling, sitting at the table, his chin in his hand,watching the other with steady eyes, "you did not tell me that you spokeEnglish."

  "The master has never asked me," said the Chinaman quietly, and toTarling's surprise his English was without accent and his pronunciationperfect.

  "That is not true," said Tarling sternly. "When you told me that you hadheard of the murder, I said that you did not understand English, and youdid not deny it."

  "It is not for me to deny the master," said Ling Chu as coolly as ever."I speak very good English. I was trained at the Jesuit School inHangkow, but it is not good for a Chinaman to speak English in China, orfor any to know that he understands. Yet the master must have known Ispoke English and read the language, for why should I keep the littlecuttings from the newspapers in the box which the master searched thismorning?"

  Tarling's eyes narrowed.

  "So you knew that, did you?" he said.

  The Chinaman smiled. It was a most unusual circumstance, for Ling Chu hadnever smiled within Tarling's recollection.

  "The papers were in certain order--some turned one way and some turnedthe other. When I saw them after I came back from Scotland Yard they hadbeen disturbed. They could not disturb themselves, master, and none butyou would go to my box."

  There was a pause, awkward enough for Tarling, who felt for the moment alittle foolish that his carelessness had led to Ling Chu discovering thesearch which had been made of his private property.

  "I thought I had put them back as I had found them," he said, knowingthat nothing could be gained by denying the fact that he had gone throughLing Chu's trunk. "Now, you will tell me, Ling Chu, did those printedwords speak the truth?"

  Ling Chu nodded.

  "It is true, master," he said. "The Little Narcissus, or as theforeigners called her, the Little Daffodil, was my sister. She became adancer in a tea-house against my wish, our parents being dead. She was avery good girl, master, and as pretty as a sprig of almond blossom.Chinese women are not pretty to the foreigner's eyes, but little Daffodilwas like something cast in porcelain, and she had the virtues of athousand years."

  Tarling nodded.

  "She was a good girl?" he repeated, this time speaking in Chinese andusing a phrase which had a more delicate shade of meaning.

  "She lived good and she died good," said the Chinaman calmly. "The speechof the Englishman offended her, and he called her many bad names becauseshe would not come and sit on his knee; and if he put shame upon her byembracing her before the eyes of men, she was yet good, and she died veryhonourably."

  Another interval of silence.

  "I see," said Tarling quietly. "And when you said you would come with meto England, did you expect to meet--the bad Englishman?"

  Ling Chu shook his head.

  "I had put it from my mind," he said
, "until I saw him that day in thebig shop. Then the evil spirit which I had thought was all burnt outinside me, blazed up again." He stopped.

  "And you desired his death?" said Tarling, and a nod was his answer.

  "You shall tell me all, Ling Chu," said Tarling.

  The man was now pacing the room with restless strides, his emotionbetrayed only by the convulsive clutching and unclutching of his hands.

  "The Little Daffodil was very dear to me," he said. "Soon I think shewould have married and have had children, and her name would have beenblessed after the fashion of our people; for did not the Great Mastersay: 'What is more worshipful than the mother of children?' And when shedied, master, my heart was empty, for there was no other love in my life.And then the Ho Sing murder was committed, and I went into the interiorto search for Lu Fang, and that helped me to forget. I had forgotten tillI saw him again. Then the old sorrow grew large in my soul, and I wentout----"

  "To kill him," said Tarling quietly.

  "To kill him," repeated the man.

  "Tell me all," said Tarling, drawing a long breath.

  "It was the night you went to the little girl," said Ling Chu (Tarlingknew that he spoke of Odette Rider). "I had made up my mind to go out,but I could not find an excuse because, master, you have given me ordersthat I must not leave this place whilst you are out. So I asked if Imight go with you to the house of many houses."

  "To the flat?" nodded Tarling. "Yes, go on."

  "I had taken your quick-quick pistol and had loaded it and put it in myovercoat pocket. You told me to trail you, but when I had seen you onyour way I left you and went to the big shop."

  "To the big shop?" said Tarling in surprise. "But Lyne did not live inhis stores!"

  "So I discovered," said Ling Chu simply. "I thought in such a large househe would have built himself a beautiful room. In China many masters livein their shops. So I went to the big store to search it."

  "Did you get in?" asked Tarling in surprise, and again Ling Chu smiled.

  "That was very easy," he said. "The master knows how well I climb, andthere were long iron pipes leading to the roof. Up one of these Iclimbed. Two sides of the shop are on big streets. One side is on asmaller street, and the fourth side is in a very small-piece street withfew lights. It was up this side that I went. On the roof were many doors,and to such a man as me there was no difficulty."

  "Go on," said Tarling again.

  "I came down from floor to floor, always in darkness, but each floor Isearched carefully, but found nothing but great bundles and packing-casesand long bars----"

  "Counters," corrected Tarling.

  "Yes," nodded Ling Chu, "they are called counters. And then at last Icame to the floor where I had seen The Man." He paused. "First I went tothe great room where we had met him, and that was locked. I opened itwith a key, but it was in darkness, and I knew nobody was there. ThenI went along a passage very carefully, because there was a light at theother end, and I came to an office."

  "Empty, of course?"

  "It was empty," said the Chinaman, "but a light was burning, and the deskcover was open. I thought he must be there, and I slipped behind thebureau, taking the pistol from my pocket. Presently I heard a footstep.I peeped out and saw the big white-faced man."

  "Milburgh!" said Tarling.

  "So he is called," replied the Chinaman. "He sat at the young man's desk.I knew it was the young man's desk, because there were many pictures uponit and flowers, such as he would have. The big man had his back to me."

  "What was he doing?" asked Tarling.

  "He was searching the desk, looking for something. Presently I saw himtake from one of the drawers, which he opened, an envelope. From where Istood I could see into the drawer, and there were many little things suchas tourists buy in China. From the envelope he took the _Hong_."

  Tarling started. He knew of the _Hong_ to which the man referred. It wasthe little red slip of paper bearing the Chinese characters which wasfound upon Thornton Lyne's body that memorable morning in Hyde Park.

  "Yes, yes," he said eagerly. "What happened then?"

  "He put the envelope in his pocket and went out. I heard him walkingalong the passage, and then I crept out from my hiding place and I alsolooked at the desk. I put the revolver down by my side, because I wantedboth hands for the search, but I found nothing--only one little piecebook that the master uses to write down from day to day all that happensto him."

  "A diary?" thought Tarling. "Well, and what next?" he asked.

  "I got up to search the room and tripped over a wire. It must have beenthe wire attached to the electric light above the desk, for the roomsuddenly became dark, and at that moment I heard the big man's footstepsreturning and slipped out of the door. And that is all, master," saidLing Chu simply. "I went back to the roof quickly for fear I should bediscovered and it should bring dishonour to you."

  Tarling whistled.

  "And left the pistol behind?" he said.

  "That is nothing but the truth," said Ling Chu. "I have dishonouredmyself in your eyes, and in my heart I am a murderer, for I went to thatplace to kill the man who had brought shame to me and to my honourablerelation."

  "And left the pistol behind?" said Tarling again. "And Milburgh foundit!"