He was not for the moment prepared to reveal his theory.
Whiteside leaned back in his chair and for a moment cogitated.
"The case from the very beginning is full of contradictions," he said. "Thornton Lyne was a rich man—by-the-way, you're a rich man, now, Tarling, and I must treat you with respect."
Tarling smiled.
"Go on," he said.
"He had queer tastes—a bad poet, as is evidenced by his one slim volume of verse. He was a poseur, proof of which is to be found in his patronage of Sam Stay—who, by the way, has escaped from the lunatic asylum; I suppose you know that?"
"I know that," said Tarling. "Go on."
"Lyne falls in love with a pretty girl in his employ," continued Whiteside. "Used to having his way when he lifted his finger, all women that in earth do dwell must bow their necks to the yoke. He is repulsed by the girl and in his humiliation immediately conceives for her a hatred beyond the understanding of any sane mortal."
"So far your account doesn't challenge contradiction," said Tarling with a little twinkle in his eye.
"That is item number one," continued Whiteside, ticking the item off on his fingers. "Item number two is Mr. Milburgh, an oleaginous gentleman who has been robbing the firm for years and has been living in style in the country on his ill-earned gains. From what he hears, or knows, he gathers, that the jig is up. He is in despair when he realises that Thornton Lyne is desperately in love with his step-daughter. What is more likely than that he should use his step-daughter in order to influence Thornton Lyne to take the favourable view of his delinquencies?"