CHAPTER XXIV
THE CONFESSION OF ODETTE RIDER
He could only gaze in stupified silence.
"You!" he said wonderingly.
The girl was pale and her eyes never left his face.
She nodded.
"Yes, it is I," she said in a low voice.
"You!" he said again and walked towards her.
He held out his hand and she gave him the wallet without a word.
"Sit down," he said kindly.
He thought she was going to faint.
"I hope I didn't hurt you? I hadn't the slightest idea----"
She shook her head.
"Oh, I'm not hurt," she said wearily, "not hurt in the way you mean."
She drew a chair to the table and dropped her face upon her hands and hestood by, embarrassed, almost terrified, by this unexpected development.
"So you were the visitor on the bicycle," he said at last. "I didn'tsuspect----"
It struck him at that moment that it was not an offence for Odette Riderto go up to her mother's house on a bicycle, or even to take away awallet which was probably hers. If there was any crime at all, he hadcommitted it in retaining something to which he had no right. She lookedup at his words.
"I? On the bicycle?" she asked. "No, it was not I."
"Not you?"
She shook her head.
"I was in the grounds--I saw you using your lamp and I was quite close toyou when you picked up the wallet," she said listlessly, "but I was noton the bicycle."
"Who was it?" he asked.
She shook her head.
"May I have that please?"
She held out her hand and he hesitated.
After all, he had no right or title to this curious purse. He compromisedby putting it on the table and she did not attempt to take it.
"Odette," he said gently and walked round to her, laying his hand on hershoulder. "Why don't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?" she asked, without looking up.
"Tell me all there is to be told," he said. "I could help you. I want tohelp you."
She looked up at him.
"Why do you want to help me?" she asked simply.
He was tongue-tied for a second.
"Because I love you," he said, and his voice shook.
It did not seem to him that he was talking. The words came of their ownvolition. He had no more intention of telling her he loved her, indeed hehad no more idea that he did love her, than Whiteside would have had. Yethe knew he spoke the truth and that a power greater than he had framedthe words and put them on his lips.
The effect on the girl seemed extraordinary to him. She did not shrinkback, she did not look surprised. She showed no astonishment whatever.She just brought her eyes back to the table and said: "Oh!"
That calm, almost uncannily calm acceptance of a fact which Tarling hadnot dared to breathe to himself, was the second shock of the evening.
It was as though she had known it all along. He was on his knees by herside and his arm was about her shoulders, even before his brain hadwilled the act.
"My girl, my girl," he said gently. "Won't you please tell me?"
Her head was still bent and her voice was so low as to be almostinaudible.
"Tell you what?" she asked.
"What you know of this business," he said. "Don't you realise how everynew 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."
She made no response to that tender arm of his, but sat rigid. Somethingin her attitude chilled him and he dropped her hand and rose. When shelooked up she saw that his face was white and set. He walked to the doorand unlocked it.
"I'm not going to ask you any more," he said quietly. "You know best whyyou came to me to-night--I suppose you followed me and took a room. Iheard somebody going upstairs soon after I arrived."
She nodded.
"Do you want--this?" she asked and pointed to the wallet on the table.
"Take it away with you."
She got up to her feet unsteadily and swayed toward him. In a second hewas by her side, his arms about her. She made no resistance, but ratherhe felt a yielding towards him which he had missed before. Her pale facewas upturned to his and he stooped and kissed her.
"Odette! Odette!" he whispered. "Don't you realise that I love you andwould give my life to save you from unhappiness? Won't you tell meeverything, please?"
"No, no, no," she murmured with a little catch in her voice. "Pleasedon't ask me! I am afraid. Oh, I am afraid!"
He crushed her in his arms, his cheek against hers, his lips tinglingwith the caress of her hair.
"But there is nothing to be afraid of, nothing," he said eagerly. "If youwere as guilty as hell, I would save you! If you are shielding somebodyI would shield them because I love you, Odette!"
"No, no!" she cried and pushed him back, both her little hands pressingagainst his chest. "Don't ask me, don't ask me----"
"Ask me!"
Tarling swung round. There was a man standing in the doorway, in the actof closing the door behind him.
"Milburgh!" he said between his teeth.
"Milburgh!" smiled the other mockingly. "I am sorry to interrupt thisbeautiful scene, but the occasion is a desperate one and I cannot affordto stand on ceremony, Mr. Tarling."
Tarling put the girl from him and looked at the smirking manager. Onecomprehensive glance the detective gave him, noted the cycling clips andthe splashes of mud on his trousers, and understood.
"So you were the cyclist, eh?" he said.
"That's right," said Milburgh, "it is an exercise to which I am verypartial."
"What do you want?" asked Tarling, alert and watchful.
"I want you to carry out your promise, Mr. Tarling," said Milburghsmoothly.
Tarling stared at him.
"My promise," he said, "what promise?"
"To protect, not only the evil-doer, but those who have compromisedthemselves in an effort to shield the evil-doer from his or her ownwicked act."
Tarling started.
"Do you mean to say----" he said hoarsely. "Do you mean to accuse----?"
"I accuse nobody," said Milburgh with a wide sweep of his hands. "Imerely suggest that both Miss Rider and myself are in very serioustrouble and that you have it in your power to get us safely out of thiscountry to one where extradition laws cannot follow."
Tarling took one step towards him and Milburgh shrank back.
"Do you accuse Miss Rider of complicity in this murder?" he demanded.
Milburgh smiled, but it was an uneasy smile.
"I make no accusation," he said, "and as to the murder?" he shrugged hisshoulders. "You will understand better when you read the contents of thatwallet which I was endeavouring to remove to a place of safety."
Tarling picked up the wallet from the table and looked at it.
"I shall see the contents of this wallet to-morrow," he said. "Locks willpresent very little difficulty--"
"You can read the contents to-night," said Milburgh smoothly, and pulledfrom his pocket a chain, at the end of which dangled a small bunch ofkeys. "Here is the key," he said. "Unlock and read to-night."
Tarling took the key in his hand, inserted it in first one tiny lock andthen in the other. The catches snapped open and he threw back the flap.Then a hand snatched the portfolio from him and he turned to see thegirl's quivering face and read the terror in her eyes.
"No, no!" she cried, almost beside herself, "no, for God's sake, no!"
Tarling stepped back. He saw the malicious little smile on Milburgh'sface and could have struck him down.
"Miss Rider does not wish me to see what is in this case," he said.
"And for an excellent reason," sneered Milburgh.
"Here!"
It was the girl's voice, surprisingly clear and steady. Her shaking handsheld the paper she had taken from t
he wallet and she thrust it toward thedetective.
"There is a reason," she said in a low voice. "But it is not the reasonyou suggest."
Milburgh had gone too far. Tarling saw his face lengthen and the look ofapprehension in his cold blue eyes. Then, without further hesitation, heopened the paper and read.
The first line took away his breath.
"THE CONFESSION OF ODETTE RIDER."
"Good God!" he muttered and read on. There were only half a dozen linesand they were in the firm caligraphy of the girl.
"I, Odette Rider, hereby confess that for three years I have been robbing the firm of Lyne's Stores, Limited, and during that period have taken the sum of L25,000."
Tarling dropped the paper and caught the girl as she fainted.