Twenty: EXIT INSPECTOR STONE

As we were walking back to the Manor in the growing dusk, I was startled to see a coarse-looking man with a heavy moustache, and dressed in a thick overcoat of glaring check suddenly loom up in front of us. He tipped his bowler hat with an ironic smile on his face.

“Sorry, guvnors. I didn’t mean to startle you. I am looking for Mr Peters.”

Pons was immediately alert.

“Ah! I am afraid you have come too late. But if we could have a word in private… Excuse me, Parker.”

He took the visitor aside and though I could no longer see them because of the encroaching mist, I could hear a muffled colloquy going on through the thickening blanket of vapour and presently I could hear angry expostulations. Then all was silent apart from the heavy footsteps of the departing visitor and Pons’ own confident tread. He rejoined me with a wry smile on his face.

“What was all that about, Pons?”

“An interesting development. This fellow is a local bookmaker and apparently Peters owes him a lot of money. I persuaded him not to worry the widow and mollified him somewhat by telling him that he would be paid out of the estate. But it does look to me as though Mulvane will have to settle eventually.”

“As you say, an interesting development,” I said, falling into step with him as we made our way back to the house. “Do you think…”

“There are many possibilities,” he interrupted. “But it would be wiser not to speculate too much at this stage, although another piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place.”

On our arrival back at the Manor we were confronted by the sight of Inspector Stone’s Morris drawn up in the concourse. The Inspector himself, who had apparently observed us from one of the hall windows, opened the front door before Pons had a chance to ring the bell. The two men shook hands gravely.

“What news, Inspector?”

The officer’s face was grim beneath the thatch of blond hair.

“Very little, I am afraid, Mr Pons. I have just been to interview the widow. I was extremely discreet, as you may imagine, but she is unable to throw any light on her husband’s death or any possible motive for it. I must say she seems to be bearing up very well under the circumstances.”

“A brave woman,” I put in.

“Well said, doctor,” Stone retorted, breaking into a brief smile.

There was no sign of Mulvane and Tolpuddle had discreetly disappeared so we three were alone in the Great Hall. As though by tacit agreement we went over to seat ourselves in a semicircle round the blazing fire.

Stone gazed into the heart of the burning logs with a bleak expression.

“Unfortunately, Mr Pons, I am called away to London from tomorrow to give evidence in a major criminal case at the Old Bailey, which may occupy my time for two or three days.”

Pons had a sympathetic expression on his face.

“You may be sure, Inspector, that if there are any major developments here I will reach you immediately by telephone.”

“That is very good of you, Mr Pons. And much appreciated. Court Number Four.”

“We will not forget.”

Stone swivelled in his wing chair to take in the pair of us full face.

“And you, Mr Pons. Any developments regarding your own investigations?”

My companion shrugged.

“Nothing of any major importance. But there is one thing.” The C.I.D. man leaned forward in the chair, his eyes fixed on my companion’s face.

“And that is?”

“Peters was considerably in debt to a local bookmaker,” Pons said tersely. “Not in Chalcroft but just far enough off to avoid being the source of interest to people in the town.”

Inspector Stone gave a thin whistle and blew his cheeks in and out a few times.

“That is interesting, Mr Pons. I am obliged to you once again. What do you make of it? And more to the point, how did you come by this information?”

“It only came to my attention a few minutes ago. We were out walking in the estate when we ran into him. He did not know of Peters’ death and was considerably put out. I advised him in the strongest terms not to disturb the widow.”

“Very wise.”

Stone had his notebook out now.

“His name, if you please.”

“Brice. You will find him in the trade section of the county directory, I fancy, if you wish to question him.”

Stone shot him a quizzical glance.

“You did not find out the amount?”

Pons shook his head.

“No, Inspector. I did not think it my business. But I appreciate that the official force must take cognisance of the minutiae in such cases.”

“But you do not think the matter of any importance?”

Pons smiled thinly.

“On the contrary, I think it is of the greatest importance. There is a motive. But I make it my business to obtain information, not to draw conclusions that may run counter to what the official force may think.”

Stone was smiling broadly now.

“Well put, Mr Pons. And in a most polite way, if I may say so. You are a man after my own heart, as you yourself observed of me when we first met.”

“If I may venture to trespass on your preserves, Inspector, I would think it best for you yourself to interview the man. I do not think it would be advisable at this stage for an officer of the uniformed branch to do so.”

“You may rely on that, Mr Pons. My own sentiments exactly. Is there anything else you wish to tell me?”

“Not at the moment, Inspector. But I can assure you that I have not withheld any vital facts from you. Is that not so, Parker?”

“Eigh?”

I tore my gaze away from the heart of the fire and came to myself again.

“Exactly, Pons. You gave the Inspector your word and you have not swerved from it.”

“I had no doubt, doctor,” said Stone, smiling.

He rose from his chair with regret in his eyes as he surveyed our comfortable surroundings.

“Well, gentlemen, I must get back to my office and then make preparations for my journey to London. I may say that I am not looking forward to it. But I keep you to your promise, Mr Pons. I can always come back here at short notice, as a major criminal inquiry must always take precedence.”

“We are certainly floundering about in a morass, Inspector,” I said. “I doubt whether anything vital will crop up during your absence.”

The Inspector smiled again.

“That is not very flattering to Mr Pons, doctor!”

“I say, Pons,” I began. “I did not mean…”

“Parker will have his little joke, Inspector,” said Pons drily, getting up from his chair.

Stone came forward to shake hands with both of us.

“Please give my best wishes to Mr Mulvane. No, thank you, I can see my way out.”

He hurried across the hall to get his thick overcoat and a few minutes later we heard the heavy slam of the front door. There was a deep silence between us as we resumed our chairs and sat staring into the fire, which sent great shadows dancing over the walls in the Great Hall as the electric light had not yet been switched on, while the dusk grew outside the misty windows. Eventually I stirred myself to break the silence.

“So what is our next move, Pons?”

He shifted in his chair and took out his pipe from his pocket, tapping it against the huge fire irons in the hearth before replying.

“That is the great question, my dear Parker. We must be both bold and circumspect, if such a thing were possible.”

“I do not quite follow.”

“What I mean is that the slightest miscalculation could cause the whole edifice I am in process of constructing to come crashing to the ground. I am currently attempting to find a bait sufficiently alluring to bring our man to the net.”

“It sounds intriguing, Pons. Am I to be taken into your confidence?”

He leaned forward into the firelight, his lean, clear-minted face expressing sympathy.

“Do not misunderstand me, Parker. I have the greatest confidence in your loyalty, integrity and in the valuable assistance you have given me in the past. It is just that I do not like to go into too much detail in case a plan misfires. But at any event, we must now break off, for here comes Mulvane.”

His sensitive ears had already caught the sound of distant footsteps and almost immediately the Great Hall was flooded with light and our client appeared, walking swiftly and with greater confidence I had yet seen in him since he entered Pons’ consulting room in such an abject condition.

“I trust Miss Masterson is well,” Pons said smoothly.

An astonished look passed across our host’s face. Pons shot me an amused glance.

“That young lady’s company would be the only thing that could possibly lighten your mood at the present time, Mr Mulvane.”

The librarian gave a short laugh.

“Shrewdly observed, Mr Pons, but you are certainly correct. We have been for a short drive to a delightful tea-room in Chalcroft…”

Here he paused, having caught the expression on Pons’ mobile features.

“Chaperoned by Inspector Stone’s faithful police sergeant, of course.”

“I hope he did not cramp your style,” said Pons archly.

Mulvane sat down in the chair vacated by Stone and gave me an amused glance.

“Not at all, Mr Pons. He sat at an adjoining table and had a very boring hour of it, I am afraid.”

“Though these things have their humorous side, you may be sure there were good reasons for these precautions, Mr Mulvane, and I hope you will not see fit to breach them for any reason whatsoever.”

“You may be certain of that, Mr Pons,” said Mulvane solemnly. “I have given my word.”

He glanced round the Great Hall as Tolpuddle appeared as though summoned by a bell.

“Now, gentlemen. Refreshments before dinner? A sherry for you, Mr Pons, and a whisky for the doctor. And then you must give me your latest news.”

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