Solar Pons Versus the Devil's Claw

Twenty-Four: CASE CLOSED

“It is most remarkable, Mr Pons! I cannot begin to tell you how much I owe to you and Dr Parker. A great shadow has been lifted from Chalcroft, but at what a price!”

“You may well say so, Mr Mulvane.”

It was two days later and we were all gathered in the Great Hall at the Manor just before lunch. Miss Masterson was there, as well as Inspector Stone, who looked wryly at my friend over the rims of his glasses.

“I am sorry you were not in at the finish, Inspector,” said Pons affably. “But things happened so quickly there was no time to warn you.”

“I quite understand, Mr Pons. I had my own theories about the case but I have met my master, after listening to your exposition. I take my hat off to you, sir.”

Pons shook his head, smiling.

“I want no credit for this, you understand. You will go far in the Force, as I have already observed. And I see that your mind was already working in the same direction as myself.”

“Which is more than mine was,” I put in amid general laughter.

Miss Masterson, who was standing with Mulvane’s arm about her waist, came forward impulsively and kissed Pons gently on the cheek, much to his consternation.

“My own special thanks, gentlemen,” she said, giving me her hand.

“I take it you will be coming to the wedding?”

“If there is one,” said Pons, giving her an interrogative look. She laughed.

“In May, gentlemen. You too, Dr Parker.”

“I shall be honoured.”

“You will both be available for the resumed inquests and the trial,” said Stone.

“Of course. Please keep me informed as to dates and times.” The police officer smiled faintly.

“And I can assure you that there will be no blame attached to you and Dr Parker regarding the death of Tidmarsh and the wounding of Mrs Peters.”

He paused and a shadow passed across his face.

“There is the matter of the use of firearms in this case. You are licensed, of course, Dr Parker.”

“Naturally,” I said.

“Anyway, I do not think we will worry about it. I will have a word with higher authority. And it is hardly likely that Mrs Peters will sue you for unlawful wounding, Dr Parker.”

I nodded.

“Especially as she was going to kill Mr Pons.”

When lunch was over and we were ready to leave, Mulvane saw the two of us to the door. Sunshine and the trap were waiting at the bottom of the stone steps and faint rays of luminescence were beginning to lighten the atmosphere around Chalcroft Manor as though in symbolic salute to the lifting of the dark shadow over the house. Mulvane came forward and pressed a long envelope into Pons’ hand.

“I am most grateful, Mr Pons. And you may be sure that both my future wife and myself will make you both very welcome any time you find yourselves this way.”

“I shall certainly bear that in mind,” said Pons.

When we were in the train on our way back to town Pons opened the envelope and his eyes widened as he saw the amount of the cheque Mulvane had written. He passed it over to me with a grunt.

“Our friend Mulvane is nothing if not generous.”

“Indeed, Pons,” I said, as he placed the envelope in his pocket book. “But there are still one or two things that puzzle me.

His eyes were twinkling through the wreathing blue smoke, for we had the smoking compartment to ourselves.

“Only one or two, Parker?”

“For example, how did you really know a will was involved in this business?”

He looked moodily at the misty fields that were whirling past the window.

“Because I had eliminated everything else, my dear fellow. The estate had to be the reason behind all the elaborate stage setting of The Devil’s Claw. Money is at the bottom of most things when one comes down to it. There was no will, of course, but that did not matter because Mulvane would have inherited by default. He was the only living relative so it had to be him. Besides, Hardcastle had expressed his intention in a number of letters and memos, which were found when Stone had a thorough search made. The document Stone found at Yeoman’s bore the old man’s signature all right and a date about two weeks prior to his death. It would have stood up in a court of law but Mrs Peters would have had to be very careful indeed when producing it. Probably as long as a year or two after Hardcastle’s murder. That would have been valid in law but it would have involved a long and expensive court case, as Mulvane would have vigorously contested it.”

He looked moodily out of the window again, his clear- minted face heavy with thought.

“An amazing woman, that. If only she had not let greed of possessions lead her into evil ways.”

“Now you are being romantic, Pons,” I said.

He chuckled appreciatively.

“Not so, Parker. But she was a worthy opponent. Though just think where it had led. Three unnecessary deaths. Four, if you count her own and if the verdict goes against her, as it surely must.”

“I still do not understand the poisonous rumours spread about Chalcroft regarding Mulvane.”

“It is my supposition that they were disseminated by Peters, his wife and Tidmarsh as well as by Hardcastle himself, in very subtle ways. They were designed to turn local people against him and divert attention from themselves.”

“But why, Pons?”

He shrugged.

“I cannot, of course, be certain but it will most certainly come out during the trial. My own theory is that that evil woman was preparing the way for Hardcastle to disown the nephew. I have learned of Hardcastle’s involvement from my talks with local tradespeople in the village, who said that he had hinted at financial irregularities on Mulvane’s part.”

“That is damnable, Pons!” I burst out.

“Those are the facts, Parker,” he said. “It is a very imperfect world, teeming with evil-minded people out there.”

“I still do not understand.”

Pons took the pipe out of his mouth with a grim expression on his mobile features.

“Quite possibly it would have smoothed the path for Sarita Peters. She might well have convinced Hardcastle that she would divorce her husband and marry him.”

“You cannot mean it, Pons!”

“But I do mean it, my friend.”

“When did you first begin to suspect Mrs Peters, Pons?”

He shook his head.

“Rather late in the case, I am afraid. My suspicions were first aroused by two sets of marks on that open staircase at the rear of Yeoman’s. You remember I said there were wet bootmarks on it.”

“Perfectly, Pons.”

“But I also picked up slight indentations in the dust at the edges of the treads. I am afraid it did not come to me until later. They were the marks that would be made by a woman wearing high-heeled shoes, who was moving up and down, keeping to the sides.”

“The housekeeper, going to check that the door was locked, Pons?”

He gave me a somewhat twisted smile.

“It was no housekeeper, for she would have locked the door. It was Mrs Peters going down to unlock the door so that her confederate could do away with her husband. Apparently even she was too squeamish to carry out the act herself.”

“The woman was a fiend, Pons!”

“You are certainly right.”

’’There is still one thing I am not clear about, Pons.”

“And what might that be?”

I studied the misty landscape gliding past the window.

“If Peters and his wife were still in the vault after the murder, who sounded the warning by making that rusty gate give out a screaming noise?”

He gave me a bleak smile.

“I have given that much thought, Parker. It all comes down to Mulvane’s state of mind during his ordeal in the graveyard. I have not gone into this but no doubt it will all come out at the resumed inquest and trial.”

He put down his copy of The Times, assumed a more comfortable posture in his comer of the compartment and regarded me steadily.

“There is only one explanation, which is a subjective one. And that is that he did not go immediately to the vault that night, as he thought, but was held in a paralysis of will induced by fear.”

He leaned forward.

“It is quite simple, really. It is my firm belief that he stood there indecisively for some time before plucking up enough courage to go down into the vault. And it needed a great deal of courage, as I am sure that, as a medical man, you can fully realise. During that time Mrs Peters, after committing that vile crime, called her husband down from the upper entrance, even her iron nerve having failed. They dressed the body between them and she then went up into the graveyard to keep watch while her husband brought the old man’s corpse up. She probably kept low and was unseen by Mulvane due to the mist and darkness. She must have been deeply shocked when she saw him there but being not only murderous but resourceful, she crept to the gate, waited until Mulvane moved forward and then warned her husband by the use of those rusty hinges. That gave Peters time to conceal the body and then strike my client down. The rest you know.”

“Admirable, Pons. That is certainly the explanation.”

I thought back over the sombre events we had just witnessed. “I shall be glad to get back to Praed Street, Pons.”

“You have something there, Parker. This morning I telephoned Mrs Johnson and I am sure she will have a tasty dish for supper. Ah, here we are!”

We gathered our luggage together as the train drew into the terminus and we were once more surrounded by the friendly atmosphere and familiar bustle of London.