ch. From two pockets he
took a dozen jewelled rings, each bearing the tiny tag of Lyne's Store.
"Hullo!" said Tarling sarcastically, "are these intended as a loving gift
from Mr. Lyne to Miss Rider?"
The man was speechless with rage. If looks could kill, Tarling would have
died.
"A clumsy trick," said Tarling, shaking his head mournfully. "Now go back
to your boss, Mr. Thornton Lyne, and tell him that I am ashamed of an
intelligent man adopting so crude a method," and with a kick he dismissed
Sam Stay to the outer darkness.
The girl, who had been a frightened spectator of the scene, turned her
eyes imploringly upon the detective.
"What does it mean?" she pleaded. "I feel so frightened. What did that
man want?"
"You need not be afraid of that man, or any other man," said Tarling
briskly. "I'm sorry you were scared."
He succeeded in calming her by the time her servant had returned and then
took his leave.
"Remember, I have given you my telephone number and you will call me up
if there is any trouble. Particularly," he said emphatically, "if there
is any trouble to-morrow."
But there was no trouble on the following day, though at three o'clock in
the afternoon she called him up.
"I am going away to stay in the country," she said. "I got scared last
night."
"Come and see me when you get back," said Tarling, who had found it
difficult to dismiss the girl from his mind. "I am going to see Lyne
to-morrow. By the way, the person who called last night is a protege of
Mr. Thornton Lyne's, a man who is devoted to him body and soul, and
he's the fellow we've got to look after. By Jove! It almost gives me an
interest in life!"
He heard the faint laugh of the girl.
"Must I be butchered to make a detective's holiday?" she mocked, and he
grinned sympathetically.
"Any way, I'll see Lyne to-morrow," he said.
The interview which Jack Tarling projected was destined never to take
place.
On the following morning, an early worker taking a short cut through Hyde
Park, found the body of a man lying by the side of a carriage drive. He
was fully dressed save that his coat and waistcoat had been removed.
Wound about his body was a woman's silk night-dress stained with blood.
The hands of the figure were crossed on the breast and upon them lay a
handful of daffodils.
At eleven o'clock that morning the evening newspapers burst forth with
the intelligence that the body had been identified as that of Thornton
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