60
tective saw her lips tighten together, as though to restrain her speech. Then suddenly she covered her face with her hands.
"Oh, it's terrible, terrible!" she whispered. "I never thought, I never dreamed--oh, it is terrible!"
Tarling laid his hand gently on her shoulder.
"Miss Rider," he said, "you suspect somebody of this crime. Won't you tell me?"
She shook her head without looking up.
"I can say nothing," she said.
"But don't you see that suspicion will attach to you?" urged Tarling. "A telegram was discovered amongst his belongings, asking him to call at your flat that evening."
She looked up quickly.
"A telegram from me?" she said. "I sent no telegram."
"Thank God for that!" cried Tarling fervently. "Thank God for that!"
"But I don't understand, Mr. Tarling. A telegram was sent to Mr. Lyne asking him to come to my flat? Did he go to my flat?"
Tarling nodded.
"I have reason to believe he did," he said gravely. "The murder was committed in your flat."
"My God!" she whispered. "You don't mean that! Oh, no, no, it is impossible!"
Briefly he recited all his discoveries. He knew that he was acting in a manner which, from the point of view of police ethics, was wholly wrong and disloyal. He was placing her in possession of all the clues and giving her an opportunity to meet and refute the evidence which had been collected against her. He told her of the bloodstains on the floor, and described the night-dress which had been found around Thornton Lyne's body.
"That was my night-dress," she said simply and without hesitation. "Go on, please, Mr. Tarling."
He told her of the bloody thumb-prints upon the door of the bureau.
"On your bed," he went on, "I found your dressing-case, half-packed."
She swayed forward, and threw out her hands, groping blindly.
"Oh, how wicked, how wicked!" she wailed "He did it, he did it!"
"Who?" demanded Tarling.
He took the girl by the shoulder a