The Dossier of Solar Pons

1

"Careful observation is the whole basis of the ratiocinative process," said Solar Pons. "That and the correct deduction of data from the observable facts."

A thick fog was swirling outside the windows of our quarters at 7B Praed Street but within, all was comfort and cheer. I sat with my feet up on the fender, a glass of port at my elbow, while Pons was in his favorite leather armchair opposite, a gray dressing gown draped around his lean, angular form. We had just had supper and, after a busy day spent on my rounds in this bleak January weather, I was more than glad to return to the warmth and pleasant comradeship of the familiar sitting room.

Pons had been unusually quiet after the meal and now he sprawled, his pipe sending curling streamers of blue smoke up to the ceiling, competing with the aroma of the log fire which burned redly on the hearth.

"You have forgotten one thing, Pons," said I. 'It all depends upon the person who is doing the deducing. Apart from your brother Bancroft I know of no one save yourself who is so gifted."

Solar Pons smiled warmly, his ascetic face a carmine mask in the firelight as he turned toward me.

"You are flatteringly in form this evening, my dear Parker, but I must disclaim so narrow an honor. Many people in all walks of life use the deductive faculties. You yourself have displayed astonishing powers on occasion."

I mumbled some disclaimer and looked at Pons narrowly. In truth he was being rather fulsome this evening so far as my own lamentable lack of talent in this direction was concerned.

"For example," he went on, as though conscious of my inward reasoning. "What do you make of the stick left by our visitor earlier this evening?"

Our motherly landlady, Mrs. Johnson, had apprised us of the visitor. I had been on my rounds and Pons had been for an evening walk; we had fallen in together at the top end of Praed Street and continued so for a while. On our return to 7B Pons had been distinctly disappointed to have missed a possible client.

"A distinguished-looking gentleman, Mr. Pons," Mrs. Johnson murmured. "He waited for upwards of half an hour and then said he had an appointment. He will try and get back later this evening. I told him you took supper at eight o'clock."

"You did quite correctly, Mrs. Johnson," said Pons. "And thank you."

He turned bitterly to me as we mounted the stairs to our quarters.

"You see, Parker, what a mere forty minutes from home to mail a few wretched letters may lead to. Here I have been this past month or so becalmed in a desperate sea of aridity so far as criminal happenings in the metropolis are concerned, and I am abroad the one evening a client calls."

Now, as I recalled the circumstances when Pons drew attention to the stick, I could not repress a slight tendency to mischief.

"I should not attach too much importance to this, Pons. Our visitor may have merely wished to read the gas meter."

Pons's eyes twinkled.

"I appreciate your effort to lighten my somber mood, but I think not, Parker. Pray take up the stick and give me your opinion."

Thus bidden, I crossed to the side table, where our visitor had laid it, and brought it back to my comfortable chair by the fire.

"Some African wood, evidently."

"Good, Parker, good," said Pons, settling himself back and raking about with a metal instrument in the bowl of his pipe.

"A fairly new stick, which nevertheless has had hard wear."

"Elementary, my dear Parker. The fact tells you nothing?"

I turned the stick around. It had a handsome handle of some darker wood and a brass ferrule.

"The ferrule is much worn, indicating that the bearer is lame."

"Highly speculative, Parker," said Solar Pons, stretching himself in his chair and tamping a fresh wad of cut tobacco into his pipe.

"And the plate on the shaft which I can see plainly winking in the firelight from here?"

"I was saving that for the last, Pons," I said. I was endeavoring to read as much as possible from the actual stick."

"Most laudable, Parker," murmured Pons, half enveloped in blue smoke again. He put his matchstick down in a brass tray at his elbow and looked speculatively at the correspondence pinned to tie mantel with a heavy jackknife.

"Presented by his friends of the U.P.C. to Col. J.H. d'Arcy, U.D.C. on the occasion of his retirement, March 3, 1921."

"A handsome piece," I went on. "The colonel, presumably the owner of the stick, is elderly. Hence his retirement. A civic post evidently."

"A notable reading, Parker," said Pons with a grunt. "Can you tell us more from the inscription?"

"Very little, Pons," I said. "Though the lettering is fairly obvious. It is a local government matter. Naturally, I cannot say precisely but roughly it could be something like 'From his friends of the Upper Penge Council to Colonel d'Arcy of the Urban District Council.'" "Well done, Parker," said Pons with a short laugh. He gave me a look of approval with his deep-set eyes.

"I trust I have not overlooked anything of major importance, Pons," I added with somewhat justifiable pride.

"Just hand me the stick a moment, like a good fellow."

I passed him the object in silence and waited while he examined it by the light of the reading lamp behind his chair.

"Most commendable, Parker," he exclaimed at length. "There are only a few major points you have overlooked."

"And pray what might those be, Pons?"

"So far from being a cripple, Colonel d'Arcy is an active, vigorous man, in his prime, certainly not more than fifty- five years of age."

"Come, come, Pons," I protested.

"In addition he has certainly nothing to do with local government, far less Upper Penge Council, which I suspect does not even exist," went on Pons imperturbably. "He was in the colonial service until last year and served in an administrative capacity in West Africa. They tend to retire early in such climates."

I could not forbear a smile.

"Really, Pons, this is going a little far. But it will be easy enough to disprove when Colonel d'Arcy arrives."

"Or prove, Parker," said Pons quietly. "He keeps a bull mastiff also, if I am not mistaken."

He held up his hand to stop my flow of protestations.

"The stick is of West African hardwood, the handle of another variety of hardwood found in that corner of the world. It is a presentation stick as is clear from the inscription. It therefore follows that Colonel d'Arcy may well have served in the army in those parts and stayed on in the colonial service."

"It is possible, Pons," I admitted. "But how do you deduce that he is vigorous?"

"This is not the stick of a lame man," said Pons decisively. "He has had it only a year. It was a presentation stick in which he takes some pride. The brass ferrule is quite worn, which indicates much walking, to my mind. Moreover, the ferrule, as you will see, is worn quite evenly

all the way round, which indicates that the colonel rotates it in his hand as he flourishes it That is not the action of a person suffering from lameness."

"You may be right, Pons," I said. "But my stab at local government is just as likely to be correct as your colonial background."

Solar Pons shook his head with a mocking smile.

"Try Urundi, Parker. We may well then arrive at a presentation from the Urundi Planters' Club to the local, district commissioner."

I was silent for a moment.

"You know the man, Pons?"

Solar Pons shook his head and again turned his attention to his pipe.

"And the dog, Pons?"

"There are strong indentations on the shaft of the stick which suggest that a dog is in the habit of carrying it for his master. The impressions are broad and widely set apart, though not easy to see because the wood is hard and the stick is black. Nothing but a big dog would make such."

"It is a long shot, Pons," I submitted.

"We shall see," said my companion urbanely. "For Mrs. Johnson has just gone to the front door and there, if I am not mistaken, is the footstep of our man on the stairs now."

2

Mrs. Johnson's cheerful, well-scrubbed face appeared in the doorway.

"The gentleman I was telling you about, Mr. Pons. Colonel d'Arcy."

Pons and I rose as the room appeared to shake. Colonel d'Arcy was indeed an enormous man, more than six feet tall and proportionately broad. He wore a large checked overcoat against the bitter cold outside and carried a black homburg in his hand. His open, bearded face had a deep tan, and piercing blue eyes looked first at me and then at my companion.

"Mr. Solar Pons? I deeply regret this intrusion, but I simply must consult you."

"Pray come in, Colonel d'Arcy. I regret that I was not at home when first you called. Please take a seat here by the fire. This is my friend, Dr. Lyndon Parker."

"Glad to meet you, Dr. Parker."

The colonel gave me a bone-crushing grip and paused to take off his coat before sitting down. Pons excused himself and left the room to removed his dressing gown. When he reappeared a few seconds later, he had resumed his jacket and his face had the alert look I had not seen for some weeks. Mrs. Johnson had hovered by the door to see if there was anything we required and now quietly excused herself and left.

I had been rather puzzled by a low panting noise which had persisted for some minutes, and as I moved to offer the colonel some liquid refreshment, my foot touched something and there was a low growl.

Colonel d'Arcy sprang up with a sharp apology.

"Come here, Toto! I hope you do not mind the liberty, Mr. Pons, but I brought my dog with me to town today. He is extraordinarily attached to me, and I did not want to leave him at home, for he pines if I am away for any length of time."

"I am sure he will be no trouble, Colonel," said Pons, looking at me quizzically. "A bull mastiff, I see. Carries your stick, no doubt?"

"Why, yes, Mr. Pons. Which reminds me, I am afraid I inadvertently forgot it when I left your chambers."

"It is quite safe, Colonel. Allow me to pass it to you. You are certainly not infirm, so I assume you do a great deal of walking."

Colonel d'Arcy nodded, taking the glass of pink gin from me with a grunt of satisfaction. He looked approvingly at both of us over the rim as he gave us a silent toast. I poured whiskey for myself and Pons and resumed my seat by the fire. The dog Toto crawled toward the fender and looked at his master with unwinking yellow eyes. Pons could not resist a little glance of triumph at me.

The colonel put down his glass with a satisfied air.

"I do a great deal of walking, it's true. And I treasure this stick."

"A gift, I see," said Pons. "I took the liberty of reading the inscription."

Colonel d'Arcy nodded.

"From West Africa. I was in the colonial service there. Retired a year ago."

"At the age of fifty-five, I would venture," said Pons, a malicious glint in his eye.

"Why, yes, Mr. Pons, though I do not see how you could possibly know that"

"Just a guess, Colonel. You were an administrator?"

"District commissioner at Urundi. My friends in the Planters' Club gave me the stick."

"Which Toto, as I observed, is in the habit of carrying"

Our visitor looked at Pons once more in amazement and then burst into a short laugh.

"That is true, Mr. Pons, though how on earth you know these things…"

"Oh, I was just indulging in a little exercise in deductive analysis from your stick, with Parker here, before you arrived, Colonel. It was not without its amusing aspects. Parker had you down as an elderly invalid who had retired from an urban council.

"Come, Pons," I protested. "That is unfair. I was only making a tentative shot at the facts, at your invitation."

"Life is unfair, Parker," said Solar Pons, leaning back in his chair and favoring me with a reassuring smile. "Have the satisfaction of knowing that you have done no worse in the matter and certainly better than most. But we are forgetting your problem, Colonel, in these little speculations. You do have a problem, or you would not have come to consult me?"

Our visitor nodded. He passed his hand across his thick black beard, and his face had assumed a serious aspect.

"I have indeed, Mr. Pons. It is something quite outside my normal experience."

Solar Pons rubbed his thin fingers together.

"That is what this agency exists for. Please continue."

The colonel took another sip of his pink gin and rested the glass in his big, capable hands as his somber eyes probed the glowing depths of the wood fire before him. At that moment I seemed to see him in faraway places in Africa; he must have sat many times like that in the bush, by the warmth of a campfire, with the strange night noises of Africa sounding through the jungle. Then he appeared to recollect himself with a slight start.

"You must forgive me, Mr. Pons, but this business has rattled me a little, I can tell you. As you gathered, I retired last year from the colonial service at the age of fifty-five. I had come into some money from a relative who had died and left me a considerable property in England. I was a bachelor, in good health, and I decided that it would be pleasant to return to the U.K. to live in some comfort and to see what life had still to offer. I had missed a good deal of a domestic nature in my years in the wild. Though I am in middle-age, I am a vigorous person and not too ugly, as you see."

Colonel d'Arcy paused and gave Pons a brief smile.

"You had hoped, as do so many returning expatriates, to find a suitable lady who would join her destiny to yours in matrimony," said Solar Pons, returning the smile. "I trust you have been successful."

Our visitor's face glowed.

"Mr. Pons, if you could only meet the young lady in question. Miss Mortimer is the most charming, the most…"

"I am sure that is so," said Pons, interrupting the colonel's flow. "But I must ask you to keep to the nature of the problem before us."

The colonel shrugged wryly.

"I do get rather carried away by Miss Mortimer, Mr. Pons," he said. "You do right to recall me to the point, though the lady's position has some bearing on the matter."

He shifted his posture in the chair and looked curiously at Pons's old slipper on the fender, from which an ounce packet of shag projected.

"My uncle, Silas Renfrew, was an eccentric, Mr. Pons. His estate would have passed to his son, my cousin, but he died while I was still in Africa. Instead, my uncle chose to leave the property to me. It is a big old rambling place in Essex, with a considerable acreage of grounds and woodland."

Pons sat with his fingers tented before him, his eyes lidded, every aspect of his body denoting his alertness.

"The legacy was a considerable one also, Colonel d'Arcy?"

Our visitor nodded, bending to affectionately cuff the massive head of the dog stretched in contentment in front of him.

"It was totally unexpected, as I think I mentioned, Mr. Pons. I had saved a good deal on my own account and of course my colonial pension left me well provided for."

Solar Pons leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes tightly.

"I am afraid I must ask you to be more specific, Colonel. It is the legacy I am concerned with."

The colonel hesitated a short moment.

It was in excess of a hundred thousand pounds, Mr. Pons. In addition I am advised by my uncle's lawyer that the estate itself is worth almost as much again."

Solar Pons opened his eyes and looked at our visitor intently.

"A considerable fortune, Colonel. It was as well to establish that at the outset."

Pons ignored the startled look the colonel gave him and waited for him to go on.

"Well, sir, I settled in at The Briars, as the estate is called. It is in a lonely spot on the Essex marshes, some miles from Tolleshunt D'Arcy with which my family has a distant connection, I believe. There is a largish village nearby, and some sizable country houses; otherwise it is fairly wild and lonely country, Mr. Pons. I had been there some months when I met Miss Claire Mortimer, a neighboring landowner's daughter, who has now consented to become my wife. She is a lady of some thirty-three years and I am a good deal older than she, though she thinks that of no account"

Colonel d'Arcy cleared his throat and drained his glass. I hastened to refill it for him, and our visitor resumed his discourse.

"The Briars is a pretty old house, Mr. Pons, though not as old as some in those parts. It was about this time last year that I settled in with my traps, and various trophies. I bought some new furniture and made a few changes, but I kept on the housekeeper and the three or four other members of the existing staff.

"It was from the housekeeper, Mrs. Karswell, that I heard the stories about my uncle, Mr. Pons. He had had some connection with West Africa too, strangely enough, and had an interest in tribal matters. But toward the end of his life he had an abiding fear of something which he felt might be coming for him. As I said, he settled his money on my cousin, Adrian Renfrew."

"The young man who died?"

"Under mysterious circumstances, Mr. Pons. Some weeks before, my uncle had occasion to go into his library one evening. He found a small carved idol on his desk, which threw him into a fearful state. It was a crude, primitively constructed thing with tribal markings. The Ipi, I believe, an obscure sect in Africa, who practice devil worship."

"He could not find out where the thing had come from?"

Colonel d'Arcy shook his head.

"No one knew anything about it, Mr. Pons. Or no one would say, which came to the same thing so far as my uncle was concerned. The housekeeper told me all this, you understand. But he evidently took it as some sort of frightful warning and had the grounds locked and the house bolted and barred at night. There were some who said he made money at the slave trade. I don't know how true that is, Mr. Pons. But apparently the warning, if warning it was, was not intended for him, because something struck at his son.

"About a week after the idol came, Adrian was called out into the grounds by a suspicious noise one night. He gave a great cry and said something had bitten him. Indeed, his foot and leg swelled up to an incredible size, and it was obvious he had been stung by something poisonous. Mr. Pons, he died in great agony, within three days, despite all the doctors could do to save him!"

3

There was a long silence in the room and I got up and placed another billet of wood upon the fire. Pons sat with the sensitive fingers of one hand stroking the lobe of his left ear in a gesture with which I had long become familiar.

"Do go on, Colonel. This is of absorbing interest. If what you say is correct, some beast of tropical origin was responsible for young Renfrew's death."

"That is so, Mr. Pons. There was a search made, of course, but nothing was ever found. And if it were so, the insect, or snake, would not have long survived in an English winter."

"Do go on."

"Well, Mr. Pons. There is not a great deal more, although what transpired recently did give me one of the biggest frights of my life. A small parcel came for me last week. I have it here."

"Containing an African idol, no doubt," said Pons with a curious smile.

"Exactly, Mr. Pons."

"Pray let me see it."

Our visitor rummaged in the pocket of the overcoat he had left on the chair and produced a small cardboard box wrapped in torn brown paper. The name and address was inked on the paper in rough block letters. Pons took it up.

"Postmarked Colchester, I see. Done with a thick-nibbed pen. The writing tells us nothing. Probably written in a post office. Time of mailing, ten forty-five A.M.; ordinary string such as one could buy at any hardware store. The paper is wrapping paper whose sheets are sold by. the million in stationers the length and breadth of the land. The box looks as though it might have once contained an Easter egg. Or it could have come from a toy shop. Let us just have a look at the contents."

He carefully lifted out the ugly object and set it down on a small table at the fireside, where we could all clearly see it. It was indeed a bizarre thing. About five inches in height, the negroid features were difficult to make out, partaking both of male and female characteristics. The statuette was full-length, jet-black, and the cheeks of the creature were gashed and incised. There were yellow and red stripes painted across the face and stomach of the effigy. It was crudely done, as we could all see. Solar Pons put out a forefinger and touched the figurine.

"I am no authority on West African tribal matters, Colonel What do you make of it?"

"Those are Ipi markings, all right, Mr. Pons. But if that is tribal carving, I will eat my hat."

Pons chuckled and nodded his head in assent.

"I had already come to the same conclusions, Colonel. A crude facsimile of the real thing, possibly copied out of some encyclopedia."

He moistened his forefinger with saliva and rubbed at the flank of the figure. His finger came away black. He smiled.

"Cheaply constructed, cheaply colored too. But the thing evidently put the fear of death into Silas Renfrew. Surely you are not suggesting that the arrival of this idol threw you into a state of terror also."

Our visitor burst into a short, barking laugh which made the dog Toto prick up its ears.

"It would take something more tangible to do that, Mr. Pons. No, sir, it was an event which happened last night and which almost cost me my life. About two days ago I found I had mislaid my favorite pair of bedroom slippers. I thought little about it, feeling that perhaps one of the servants had taken them away to polish. Last night, they were back at my bedside."

Our visitor's face had turned deathly pale, and his brilliant blue eyes were fixed upon Pons.

"I was in my pajamas, Mr. Pons. It was almost midnight and the fire in the room was burning low. My feet were bare, and I was reaching out my hand for my slippers when I saw a shadow crawl, out of the corner of my eye. Mr. Pons, you may believe me or believe me not, but it was the biggest spider I have ever seen; a monstrous, hairy thing that looked to my overheated mind as big as a soup plate."

"Good heavens!" I could not help exclaiming.

Colonel d'Arcy looked at me grimly.

"You may well say so, Doctor. The thing was a nightmare. It had evidently been sheltering in my slipper for warmth and was making for the area of the fire. Fortunately I was able to seize the poker and dispatched the loathsome creature with a few. well-aimed blows. Mr. Pons, it was a tarantula! One bite from that thing and it would have been all up with me."

Pons ran a finger gently along the edge of his jaw and his eyes were serious.

"These are deep waters, Parker. You did well to come to me, Colonel. What did you do with the remains of this creature?"

"I burned it, Mr. Pons. Burned it in loathing and disgust, and then had the servants up, and the whole room turned inside out."

"Nevertheless, it might have assisted us if you had saved the remains," said Solar Pons. "You are certain it was a tarantula?"

Colonel d'Arcy nodded grimly.

"I have seen enough of the brutes in my time."

"Nevertheless, your bizarre and fascinating mystery, Colonel, raises a number of interesting questions. This creature — and possibly something similar that may have bitten young Adrian Renfrew — could not have lived long in an English winter, as you say. Therefore it needed artificial warmth. The supply of such things is necessarily specialized

and narrows down the search considerably. No doubt it was packed carefully in your slipper by someone who knew what he was about Possibly the insect was drugged. The heat in the room gradually died out and the brute awoke and sought warmth. You are indeed lucky, Colonel, that it did not seek it against the sole of your foot"

Our visitor shuddered and beads of perspiration were starting out on his brow.

"This morning, Mr. Pons, I sought the advice of my fiancée. She advised — nay even urged me strongly — to come to you. I thought the matter over all day. Finally, common sense prevailed I am not a coward, Mr. Pons, but something vile is menacing the inhabitants of The Briars. I do not wish Miss Mortimer involved. I beg of you to return to Essex with me tonight, Mr. Pons. Money is of no object."

Solar Pons held up his hand and rose swiftly to his feet.

"It is not a question of money, Colonel. I had long ago made up my mind to take the case. There is no time to be lost Have you set a date for your wedding?"

Our visitor looked startled and rose to his feet also.

"In early spring, Mr. Pons. May first"

Pons pulled at the lobe of his ears.

"Just over three months. There may be an element of desperation here. No doubt an attempt will be made again. You have not yet told us how your uncle died, Colonel."

"He was a broken man after the death of his only son, Mr. Pons. He was found dead in his study one night Foul play was not suspected. He had a long history of heart trouble."

Pons nodded, his eyes questioningly on my face.

"It has just turned ten o'clock. There is a train shortly which will take us to our destination within the hour. Are you free to accompany us, Parker?"

"If the colonel has no objection."

Colonel d'Arcy raised a deprecatory hand.

"I would be greatly honored, Doctor."

"That is settled then," said Solar Pons, returning to his bedroom to throw some things into his overnight bag.

"I will just telephone my standby, Pons," I said, but he had already disappeared. The dog Toto got up with a snuffling noise, evidently glad to be moving again. I helped Colonel d'Arcy on with his coat and then made my call and packed my own bag. Within ten minutes we were en route for Essex.

4

Our client had his own car waiting at the small country station. It was a bitterly cold night with the fog swirling heavily, though a light wind which was moving across the surrounding marshes made it gust and eddy.

"My fiancée is staying at The Briars with her mother at the moment," Colonel d'Arcy explained as he drove carefully along the flat road, the wall of fog swirling uneasily in the yellow light of the headlamps. "She insisted on coming today straightaway."

"An admirable lady," said Pons, sitting back in his corner of the car, his features in heavy shadow. "Though whether it is wise to be with you is another matter."

"You do not think she is in any danger?" said the colonel in an alarmed tone.

"We cannot rule out the possibility. Anyone dose to you may be. We must just keep a close watch on the young lady. Obviously, your preparations for marriage have precipitated matters."

"I do not see, Mr. Pons…" began our client, when a farm cart loomed suddenly out of the fog and we were lurching over the rough shoulder with a screeching of brakes. Our client swore and was visibly shaken. He carefully reversed back onto the road and we got out The big wooden farm cart, the horse standing patiently in the shafts, was three-quarters across the narrow lane.

"We might all have been killed," said Colonel d'Arcy violently. "I will report this to the police by telephone as soon as we arrive home."

"Indeed," said Pons casually, looking carefully along the roadside. "You are not the only person who almost came to grief, I see."

He pointed to where zigzag tire marks wandered across the frosty grass. He was immediately down on his knees with a pocket flashlight, examining them while Colonel d'Arcy looked somewhat puzzledly on.

"The driver of this vehicle obviously veered around and stopped."

"Did he not," said Pons.

He had already taken the horse's reins and urged it and the heavy cart up onto the shoulder, where he tied the animal to some stout iron railings. He looked underneath the vehicle with his flashlight and came back dusting his hands. "No doubt the driver has gone for help. I see that the back axle is cracked."

"Even so," exploded Colonel d'Arcy, "he should have been more careful and have seen that the animal was tied up securely."

We got back in the car and drove on toward The Briars in somber silence, the fog waving and eddying in thick, oily swathes. Toto, who had remained crouched at the colonel's feet, quite phlegmatic even during the near-accident, had not descended to the ground when we examined the wagon but now that we were approaching the colonel's home, began to exhibit some excitement, whining and growling and wagging his massive tail

"Before we join your fiancée and her family," said Pons, "I must ask what arrangements you have made regarding your property."

Our client looked surprised.

"Why, Mr. Pons, I have not made a will if that is what you mean. But when I do so, my estate would naturally pass to my wife, the present Miss Mortimer, in due course."

"You have no other surviving relatives?"

Colonel d'Arcy shook his head.

"No close ones that I know of. And certainly no one who would stand to benefit by my estate. You surely cannot mean…"

"There is no other plausible motive," Pons went on imperturbably. "On the basis of what you have told me, money would appear to be the cause of these dark events which have surrounded your family. Your uncle might have been supposed to the naturally at some future time, due to his heart complaint There was no urgency about that, though an attempt was made to frighten him with the idol. His son, a young man and his sole heir, died soon afterward under frightful circumstances. The new heir is first threatened and then his life attempted. No, Colonel, there is no coincidence here. A malign, evil brain is working inexorably toward securing your estate. We must be on constant guard."

"Good heavens, Pons," I said, conscious of a faint shudder in my spinal region "You will be frightening me next"

"I fancy I shall frighten you, Parker, more easily than Colonel d'Arcy," said Pons with a thin smile. "I want him to be on his guard. We are up against a devilish and cunning adversary."

"In that ease I wish I had brought my revolver," I said somewhat tardy.

"Ah, Parker," said Solar Pons in that maddeningly omniscient manner of his, "I took the liberty of packing it for you. I have brought a derringer myself and I fancy that will be adequate armament, both for tarantulas or human adversaries."

And he passed the weapon to me.

"I confess I am confused and bewildered by the whole thing, gentlemen," said Colonel d'Arcy, hunched over the wheel and straining his eyes through the fog. "There are no possible heirs, so how could my estate be the motive?"

"Ah, that is something yet to be discovered," said Solar Pons mysteriously, and he said nothing more until the colonel's car had crawled through the last few hundred yards of fog and deposited us at our destination.

The Briars proved to be a long, low, stone-built house with wings thrown out at either side, approached through iron entrance gates, the estate road running through a considerable area of woodland and grass before the house itself was reached. The colonel parked the car on a broad gravel concourse.

Pons and I got out as a welcoming shaft of light came from a door which was flung open at the head of the steps. There were several cars parked in front of the lawn which fronted the mansion, and Pons passed a few moments examining them while the colonel reversed the car. The fog was lifting a little now and as we went up the steps, I could see that the house was handsome, with carved statues set in niches and well-kept stonework.

The door had been opened by a tall, dark-visaged man in a green baize apron, wearing a batwing collar which stood out in sharp contrast to his somber clothing. He gave Colonel d'Arcy a stiff bow and was already bending forward to pick up our bags.

"This is Vickers, who was my batman in West Africa," said the colonel "These are my guests, Mr. Solar Pons and Dr. Lyndon Parker."

The dark-faced man gave us a bow which seemed like an extension of the first.

"Good evening, gentlemen. Your rooms are ready."

He closed the door behind us and turned to our client.

"Mr. Bradshaw has arrived, sir."

"Good. He is my solicitor, Mr. Pons. Would you like to meet him?"

Solar Pons nodded.

"If it is no trouble. We can go to our rooms afterward, Parker."

We followed the colonel across a gloomy hall with oak paneling, lined with shields and spears of African origin.

"It seems rather late for a call," said Pons.

"Bradshaw probably dined with my fiancée and her mother," the colonel explained. "They knew I would be back tonight."

As he spoke there was a murmur of voices, and d'Arcy threw back the oak-paneled double doors and ushered us into another large paneled room lit by candles in chandeliers and boasting a massive stone fireplace in which logs burned cheerfully.

A slender, dark-haired girl with wide blue eyes came forward impetuously and kissed our host lightly on the lips.

"We were getting a little worried, darling. Mummy thought something had happened to you in the fog."

The girl turned her frank gaze on us while a matronly lady with graying hair, obviously her mother, and a thickset man with a silver mustache and hair thickly powdered with white strands came forward from the background.

Our client made the introductions and led us toward the long table in the center of the room.

"You'll want some refreshment, gentlemen?"

"We have already dined," Pons explained.

He looked with mischievous eyes at me.

"But a drink would not come amiss, eh, Parker?"

"To keep the fog out, Pons," I assented.

Our host busied himself with the glasses, and Pons and I found ourselves with the solicitor as the two lathes went across to the fire. Chadburn Bradshaw had very white teeth and a faint tan on his lean face. His voice had a Scottish accent as he wrinkled his brows in concentration.

"Mr. Pons? Not the famous consulting detective?"

"Hardly famous," Pons replied. "But that is my profession."

"You are too modest, Mr. Pons," said the solicitor with obvious interest "You will find much to tax your interest at The Briars. It has the reputation of being haunted. And on a foggy night such as this…"

He laughed as he turned toward d'Arcy, who came up with brimming glasses, which he pressed into our hands. We went over to join the lathes at the fire.

"Best be careful when you leave, Bradshaw. We nearly had a smash on the way over."

Bradshaw raised his eyebrows, lifting his glass in a toast which included Miss Mortimer and her mother.

"You mean the farm wagon?" Bradshaw asked. "Has that not been cleared yet? Fortunately, I saw it in time."

"That is your bullnose Morris outside, then?" said Pons.

"Yes, Mr. Pons. Nice cars, aren't they?"

"Indeed"

Our host had excused himself and was talking to the lathes, but now he came hurrying over, his face bearing a frown.

"An estate matter, Bradshaw? I hope it is nothing serious?"

The lawyer shook his head.

"Just a routine matter, Colonel, which nevertheless requires your signature. I have the papers in your study and it will take only a few moments."

He paused and I became aware that there was a slight draft. I turned toward the door, noticing by Pons's stiffened attitude that he had already taken note of it. There was an odd silence, and then the taciturn servant in the baize apron shuffled in and silently began clearing glasses from the table. It was obvious that he had been listening to the conversation, and I shot an inquiring look toward the solicitor.

"Curious fellow, Vickers," said Bradshaw sotto voce. "I don't trust him. He's always snooping about, and he knows far too much about the colonel's private affairs."

"Really," said Pons, looking sharply across to where Colonel d'Arcy had paused to give his servant some instructions. Bradshaw shrugged.

"Still, it's no business of mine, Mr. Pons. The colonel picked up Vickers when he was in the army in West Africa and hung on to him. There's no accounting for tastes."

"No, indeed," I said.

Bradshaw was moving off with the colonel when Pons took him by the arm.

"There are one or two matters about this house on which I should like to consult you. Would tomorrow be convenient?"

"Certainly, Mr. Pons. I have an office in Tolleshunt D'Arcy. Anyone will tell you where it is. Shall we say about three o'clock?"

"Don't forget you are coming for the weekend," our host interrupted. "I am having a small house party to celebrate our engagement."

"Well, then, it is indeed providential that we are here," said Solar Pons. "Until tomorrow, Mr. Bradshaw."

The lathes had now come toward us.

"You will forgive us, Mr. Pons," said Claire Mortimer. "The hour is late and my mother and I wish to retire. We look forward to making the further acquaintance of you and Dr. Parker tomorrow."

Pons bent and took her hand. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw an anguished appeal in the girl's eyes as she raised them to my companion's.

A short while later we all broke up for the night. Our host accompanied Bradshaw out to his car. I was astonished at Pons's behavior as soon as the two men had closed the front door behind them. He put his hand to his lips and hurried me along the hall, our footsteps muffled on the thick carpeting. We turned an angle in the wall and Pons motioned me to be silent.

It was dark in the alcove and at first I could see only the outline of a figure and something which looked like a table. Light winked on bottles and glasses. Then I saw the manservant, Vickers. He was bending over a glass and carefully measuring out liquid. When he had about an inch in the bottom, he put down his head and sniffed it. He remained like this for a while and then turned to a second bottle. When he had dealt with four in this manner, Pons and I quietly withdrew.

We had already said good night to our host and as we crept up the great staircase, the muffled noise of Bradshaw's car crept away through the fog. We found our chambers without any difficulty, for Vickers had left the doors ajar. When we were out of earshot of the hallway, Pons said, "What do you make of that, Parker?"

"Mysterious and suspicious," I replied, knowing he was referring to the servant's behavior. "It seems to me, Pons, that we have seldom ventured into a darker and more sinister business than the events taking place under the roof of The Briars."

Solar Pons rubbed his thin hands together, and his eyes were twinkling in the dim light of the hallway.

"I have rarely seen a more promising situation. Pleasant dreams, my dear fellow."

And with that he strode into his room and closed the door.

5

The next morning dawned bleakly cold and foggy. Pons was afoot and about long before I made my way to the breakfast table. I saw him through the window in conversation with a man who looked like a gardener, as I greeted my host and his prospective wife and mother-in-law.

It was a lively and pleasant group who chatted like old friends, waited on by efficient servants led by. Mrs. Karswell, the housekeeper, a middle-aged, stately woman with reserved manners which concealed great warmth of character. Miss Mortimer and her mother, who was almost as handsome despite her seniority, put themselves out to be kind, and it was easy to see that Claire Mortimer and our host were deeply attached to one another.

At one point in the conversation she put out her hand impulsively to mine on the tablecloth and said, "Both mother and I are deeply grateful to you and Mr. Pons, Doctor, for your help in the trouble which has come upon us."

I mumbled some banality and as I studied the girl and the colonel, aware all the time of Mrs. Mortimer's inquiring eye upon me, I was disturbingly conscious of Claire Mortimer's fascinating character and the sinister implications of the web which, if Pons were correct, surrounded the couple.

I was almost disappointed when Pons joined us, for the conversation immediately turned into brisker channels. His

walk had invigorated him, and his lean, hawklike face was glowing with the cold and the exercise. He rubbed his hands together as he sat down to do justice to the bacon, eggs, and grilled kidneys heaped up generously on his plate.

"Well, Parker," he said genially during the first lull in the conversation. "I trust you have been employing your time usefully while I was out of doors."

"I trust so, Pons," I replied, uncomfortably aware of Miss Mortimer's eyes upon me.

"I have taken the liberty, Colonel d'Arcy," Pons went on, "of begging the loan of one of your cars from your chauffeur at the stable wing. He seems as amiable fellow and readily agreed, with the proviso that I obtain your authority."

"Certainly, Mr. Pons," said our host with a light laugh. "Metcalfe is a stickler for protocol, I am afraid."

"Another of your West African soldiers?" said Pons keenly.

"No," said d'Arcy, shaking his bearded head. "But he was highly recommended by Vickers and I have been well satisfied with him. Do you wish me to accompany you on your excursion?"

Pons shook his head.

"Parker will drive me, if he will be so kind. I have a mind to sample the pleasures of Tolleshunt D'Arcy, and a tour round the marshes would not come amiss. The mist has lifted a little this morning."

"Even so, Mr. Pons, I should not stay out after dark. It has a habit of thickening up in wintertime, as it did last night."

"Have no fear, Colonel Parker and I will be back in time for tea at the latest And no doubt you and Miss Mortimer have much to talk about and a great deal to do in preparing for your forthcoming party."

His gaze rested ironically on his host and his fiancée in turn and the flush in the girl's cheeks was a pleasant thing to see.

"Well, Parker," said Pons in the pause which followed. "If you have quite finished your coffee, we will retire to

our rooms to prepare for our little expedition. We would be able to obtain lunch in Tolleshunt D'Arcy, no doubt?"

Our host nodded.

"Certainly, Mr. Pons. There are two good hotels and other establishments."

"Excellent. Until tonight, then."

A few minutes later we were driving away down the winding road through the park in a powerful little covered touring car that the chauffeur had provided. I was unfamiliar with the gears and suffered some tart comments from Pons until I had mastered the vehicle and we gained the main road. Pons was silent, during the journey, looking out. across the bleak landscape which was wreathed in low-lying mist, now and again touched by a deep red winter sun that hung close to the horizon.

We reached the cluster of houses that was Tolleshunt D'Arcy and after we had parked in the main street, soon found the offices that were our destination for that afternoon. Pons continued silent and absorbed and paced about the streets, now and again making trivial purchases at various shops, engaging in desultory and, to my mind, highly irrelevant conversation with their proprietors.

Later we returned to the car and drove out in a great wide looping circle across the marshlands. The sun had dispersed the mist now and glittered on the hoarfrost that stiffened the grass and turned the coats of the patient cattle in the fields to a pale gold. The scene had a certain bleak beauty, and Pons so far overcame his indifference to what he called the neutrality of landscape that he became quite voluble on the subject.

"We seem to have spent an aimless morning, Pons," I said, as we once again entered Tolleshunt D'Arcy and parked in front of an imposing oak-beamed hotel

"Patience, Parker, was never one of your greatest virtues," said my companion succinctly.

"But all these conversations and purchases of useless boxes of matches, Pons."

"Method, Parker, method. One learns a great deal about small communities by such seemingly idle chatter."

"Come, Pons, I did not hear anything of any value."

"A correction, Parker. You heard a great deal but you did not deduce anything of any value from what you heard."

I sniffed. We walked through the entrance of the George and seated ourselves at a comfortable table in the agreeably old-fashioned dining room.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me, Pons."

Solar Pons smiled and tented his lean fingers before him as his sharp eyes surveyed the people in the dining room.

For example, my dear fellow, it emerges that Colonel d'Arcy is an honest and agreeable employer, if these people's opinion is to be respected and I maintain that it is. Miss Mortimer is highly thought of and her family have been here for generations. Mrs. Karswell is a model housekeeper and has the affection of the local community, for which she does much charitable work. Vickers is disliked fend receives a character assassination at the hands of these people."

"You astonish me, Pons! I did not gather all this."

Solar Pons shrugged, studying the menu the waiter had produced for us.

"I am not surprised, Parker. After all, it is not your forte. But one reads between the lines. The inflection of a voice, a pause, a lowering of the tones, the merest hesitation in answering a question — these things can tell one a great deal."

"And have you come to any conclusions, Pons?"

Solar Pons smiled.

"Let us say I have some mental reservations and some strong suspicions. Nothing that I would care to talk about at this moment."

And with that I had to be content, for Pons did not speak again until three o'clock had chimed from the church tower and we were walking up the stairs into Mr. Chad- burn Bradshaw's comfortable office.

The solicitor's clerk, a burly, middle-aged man with bee- ding eyebrows, had no sooner ushered us into the book- lined apartment than Bradshaw came bustling over from his desk to greet us. He seated us in two leather armchairs facing his desk and resumed his own seat. Today he wore a

salt and pepper suit with a discreet gray tie that bore the symbol of some club or other.

"Would you care for some refreshment, gentlemen? I am afraid I can offer only tea."

This with a wry smile. Pons shook his head.

"Thank you, no, Mr. Bradshaw. We have not long lunched at The George."

"An excellent establishment, Mr. Pons. But this is not purely a social visit?"

Pons came straight to the point

"You have guessed right, Mr. Bradshaw. Colonel d'Arcy takes you into his confidence, I believe?"

Bradshaw sat back in his seat and drummed with restless fingers upon his desk.

"I have that honor, Mr. Pons. I administered his late uncle's estate. The family were old friends."

"So that you are familiar with the tragic incidents that have taken place at The Briars over the past few years?"

Bradshaw nodded. He hesitated a moment, his eyes focused on the far distance beyond the bookcases.

"You appreciate, Mr. Pons, that I am Colonel d'Arcy's legal adviser. I cannot breach confidences."

"But you could stretch a point or two, Mr. Bradshaw, in the interests of your client. Particularly in a matter involving life or death."

The lawyer nodded. He gave a bleak smile.

"Ah, I see that you are familiar with the incident involving Mr. Adrian Renfrew. Then l am also correct in assuming that your interest in this matter is not merely one of idle curiosity."

Solar Pons crossed one lean leg over the other and bent forward in his chair.

"You would be correct, Mr. Bradshaw. There is no reason why you should not know. We believe the colonel's life is in danger. That is why I have been retained in the matter."

There was a long silence in the room. Bradshaw gazed from one to the other of us, a serious expression on his face. The red winter sunlight spilling in through the window at his side made a carmine mask of his features.

"Well, of course, Mr. Pons," he said composedly. "That puts a different complexion on things. I am at your disposal so long as it is understood that I cannot do anything which could be construed as a breach of professional ethics."

"Naturally," Solar Pons assured him.

He was sitting bolt upright in the chair now, his figure alert and energetic, his left hand pulling at the lobe of his ear.

"My friend Parker and I have pledged ourselves to protect the colonel from whatever harm threatens. I too cannot go into much detail for professional reasons. Consulting detectives, as well as solicitors may have ethical standards.

There were little sparks of humor in Pons's eyes, and the solicitor's own glance was filled with ironic amusement as though he appreciated the point. His whitening hair and the silver mustache were all crimsoned with the dying winter sunlight now.

"What do you wish to know, sir?"

"You administer the colonel's considerable, estate, Mr. Bradshaw. I believe someone is trying to get control of the family's assets. I would like to know if you have any documents in your possession or any knowledge which might lead my inquiries in any specific direction."

The solicitor's face was alight with interest; he drummed his fingers on the desk again.

"You are a very shrewd man, Mr. Pons. There is something, but as to whether I should reveal it to you is another matter."

He hesitated.

"I can assure you that no improper use will be made of the information, Mr. Bradshaw."

"In that case, Mr. Pons…"

Chadburn Bradshaw rose from the desk and crossed to a green iron safe at the side of the room. He rummaged inside it and presently emerged with a brown cardboard dossier tied with red tape. He brought it back to the desk and undid it

"What use you make of this information is up to you, Mr. Pons. But it must be made clear that it must not be seen to come from me."

"That is perfectly understood."

"Well, then. There was another beneficiary of Silas Renfrew's estate, you must know. He was a strange and eccentric man, though he had become a good friend to me over the years."

"You interest me greatly, Mr. Bradshaw. Do go on."

"A distant cousin, George Tolliver, is a secret beneficiary of the estate. He and young Adrian Renfrew were great friends as boys, but later Tolliver went to America: He had a bad reputation there, I believe."

"No one knew of the existence of this legacy?"

The solicitor shook his head.

"Silas Renfrew insisted on this. He felt he had behaved badly toward his relative, I think. Only myself and Mr. Renfrew knew of this. And George Tolliver, of course. He would inherit only on the colonel's death."

"You have not even told the colonel?"

Bradshaw shook his head.

"Those were Mr. Renfrew's precise instructions."

"What was the amount of the legacy?"

"Precisely fifty thousand pounds, Mr. Pons. I have the document."

He took it from the cardboard file as he spoke and came around the desk to hand it to my companion. Solar Pons bent eagerly over it, his keen, aquiline features intent on the detail. He turned the pages over, studying the signatures.

"Excellent, Mr. Bradshaw. You have been extremely helpful. Tell me, how was Mr. Tolliver informed of his good fortune. Did you see him?"

Bradshaw shook his head.

"He was in America at the time. So far as I knew, Mr. Renfrew informed him by letter, enclosing a copy of the document here."

Pons sat deep in thought for a moment longer.

"Have you any idea where George Tolliver is now, Mr. Bradshaw?"

"Not ten miles from where we are sitting, Mr. Pons. He bought a large house in the area some two years ago. I heard of this through my property interests in the district.

Of course, I have not sought him out as it was no business of mine, but the name is the same. And according to reports of his strange manage I have no doubt it is the Tolliver named in the will."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because of the man's weird tastes, Mr. Pons. He has some sort of private menagerie over there. He keeps tropical snakes and spiders among other things, I understand."

"Why, Pons, this is…" I burst out excitedly.

Pons's warning frowns checked my flow and I turned rather shamefaced to the lawyer. But he evidently affected not to notice my discomfort and sat waiting for Pons's next question.

"I am in your debt, Mr. Bradshaw," said he, rising from the chair. "Now it only remains for you to give me the address of Mr. Tolliver, and I will pay him a call. I think we have time before it gets entirely dark, Parker."

An alarmed look crossed Bradshaw's face.

"You will be careful, Mr. Pons. A confidence, remember."

He rose, putting the document back into the cardboard folder.

"Have no fear, Mr. Bradshaw," said Pons, shaking hands. "You have my word."

"Very well, then. Tolliver lives at a place called White- stone Manor. Some nine or so miles outside Tolleshunt D'Arcy. Just take the main road the way your car is pointing and keep straight on."

"Many thanks, Mr. Bradshaw. It has been a most instructive afternoon. Come, Parker."

6

A few minutes later we were humming along the straight, flat road through the marsh country on our way to White- stone Manor. Pons sat at my side deep in thought, his aquiline face clear-minted against the freezing winter background. A low mist was rising again, and for the first few minutes I concentrated on the road, digesting the information we had just received. Finally Pons broke silence.

"Well, Parker, what do you make of it? I know that you are bursting to question me."

"You are perfectly correct, Pons. That man Tolliver and the business of the snakes and spiders. Why, the whole thing fits together as plainly as the nose on my face."

Pons chuckled, taking his pipe from his pocket.

"Does it not, Parker. It certainly seems as if Mr. Tolliver has both motive and opportunity, though how he would insinuate such creatures into Colonel d'Arcy's home must remain conjectural for the moment."

"Such a man could find ways," I said.

"True, Parker, true," Pons nodded, filling the interior of the car with the harsh reek of shag as he lit the tobacco in the bowl of his pipe.

"Old Silas Renfrew was a curious man, certainly, and this bequest throws a fresh light upon matters."

"And remember the manner in which his son died," I continued. "The colonel said his death bore all the symptoms of a bite from a tropical insect."

"I see that your medical as well as your deductive faculties are working well, Parker," went on Pons, shooting me sharp glances from beneath his brows, as he puffed furiously at his pipe.

"But here, if I am not mistaken, is our destination."

Even as he spoke the white palings of a large house were composing themselves in the light mist which had begun to gather. I drove the car up in front of a heavy oak door, one of three in the facade of the ancient timbered house, and switched off the engine. Silence crowded in, broken only by the melancholy cawing of rooks from some ancient elms which overhung the lawn, now heavily carpeted with leaves. It was a somber scene, but Pons was cheerful enough as he got out of the car, rubbing his hands together briskly.

"Quite a Gothic milieu, Parker," he said with satisfaction as he led the way up to the front door, which was already being opened by a severe-looking woman with shingled hair.

"Solar Pons and Dr. Lyndon Parker to see Mr. George Tolliver," said my companion crisply.

The woman inclined her head, no sign of surprise on her pale face.

"You will find him in his laboratory. It is the large barn at the other side of the house."

And with that she slammed the door. Pons chuckled. He was already walking away in the direction indicated, and I had a job to keep up with him as he followed the paved path. The barn indeed was a massive structure — evidently an Elizabethan tithe-barn — and electric lights burned cheerily behind the windows in its white-painted planking. There was an electric bell push set into the door lintel, and its shrill ring was followed almost immediately by a loud exhortation to come in.

It was agreeably warm in the interior and with the warmth was mingled a sharp, animal smell, acrid and unmistakable — like that in one of the mammal houses in the zoo. The first thing I noticed was cages ranged around the walls at this end of the building; they were wire and iron structures, in which dark forms could be glimpsed. There were glass tanks containing fish and reptiles; up at the far end, on a large platform, a Bunsen burner burned palely. There were rows of bookshelves and benches. This was all I had time for as the master of this strange domain was already bearing down upon us.

He was a small, rather mild-looking man with steel- framed spectacles and a shock of whitening hair which hung down low over his brow. He wore a sort of smock over his waistcoat and trousers, and a black-and-white striped shirt looked incongruous in juxtaposition with the greenness of the overall. He held out his hand as he came down the steps from the platform and looked at us alertly.

"Welcome, gentlemen. Visitors are rare, but I do not think I have had the pleasure…"

"Solar Pons and Dr. Lyndon Parker," Pons explained. "We are staying with Colonel d'Arcy in the neighborhood, and as we understood you are a relative, decided to take the liberty of calling upon you."

"A distant relative only, gentlemen," said Tolliver, studying us sharply from behind his glasses.

"But will you not come up into my study and remove your coats? If you would like some tea…"

"Thank you, no," said Pons affably. "We are due back at The Briars for tea, but since we were so close, we looked in with an invitation."

We were up on the platform now and I studied the books and equipment with mounting interest as Pons and our strange host chatted on.

"Invitation?"

Tolliver looked from Pons to me and then back to my companion again with unconcealed curiosity.

"Well, yes," said Pons with a composure I found difficult to contemplate. "The colonel feels that he should, perhaps, have been more forthcoming in paying his respects and wishes to make up for it."

Tolliver held up his hand.

"Colonel d'Arcy owes me nothing, Mr. Pons. I am a distant cousin only."

"Nevertheless, he would be delighted if you could accept a little suggestion. He has just become engaged to a delightful young lady and would appreciate the honor if you could come over to spend one or two nights as his guest this weekend. Friday evening was the time suggested."

I could only watch open-mouthed as Tolliver colored and looked around hesitantly.

"Why, I should deem it an honor, Mr. Pons."

"That is settled, then. Shall we say six o'clock Friday evening?"

"That will do admirably."

Pons nodded as though the subject were closed. He looked around with piercing eyes.

"I see you are a herpetologist, Mr. Tolliver."

Our host flushed.

"An amateur only. Zoology has been my passion since college days."

"You seem to have quite a collection. These bird-eating spiders, for example…"

I was already looking at the creatures in question, and my scalp crawled with loathing at the great furry creature which scuttled across the sanded floor of one of the heated glass cages. In another coil after coil of gold-dusted patterning moved lazily across a tree branch.

"Magnificent, aren't they?" Tolliver continued. "I have some notable rarities. Would you care for a tour?"

Pons smilingly declined.

"I think I have seen enough, Mr. Tolliver."

We were descending the stairs again now.

"I trust you and Dr. Parker will visit me again," said our host when we were once more near the door. He shook hands with Pons and then turned to me. Pons spoke again before I could open the door.

"Do you by any chance know Mr. Bradshaw, the solicitor from Tolleshunt D'Arcy?"

"Yes, indeed. He acts for me in certain matters."

Despite my warning frown at Pons, he continued as though he had not seen it.

"By the way, Mr. Tolliver, you have not lost any specimens lately? Spiders, for example. Or snakes?"

I could not help making a small explosive sound of astonishment, but the effect on Tolliver was electrifying. He cast a worried, almost haggard, look about him.

"I could not possibly see how you could know that, Mr. Pons. But the truth is that I have. I do not understand how it could have happened. Several specimens have disappeared of late."

He licked his lips nervously.

would appreciate it if you did not noise the fact abroad. My laboratory, as the locals call it, is little liked hereabouts."

"You have my word, Mr. Tolliver."

Tolliver glanced around uneasily.

"The only relief, Mr. Pons, is that the specimens need tropical heat. They would have died quickly outside these walls."

"That is good to hear," said Solar Pons with a dry laugh, gazing at an anaconda which took up most of a large cage opposite. "Until Friday."

"Until Friday, Mr. Pons."

I could hardly wait until we were back in the car.

"Good heavens, Pons, this man has given himself away. And are you mad, inviting him to stay at The Briars?"

"I fancy it will be an interesting weekend, Parker," said Pons, a faraway expression in his eyes as I turned the car and headed back toward Colonel d'Arcy's house.

"It was a liberty, as you say, but as soon as I have explained the situation to our client, I am sure he will cooperate. And now, if you please, Parker, I would prefer to smoke in silence while I get to grips with the problem."

7

"Your health, Mr. Pons!"

Colonel d'Arcy's bearded face was flushed with pleasure and as I looked around the dining table, I saw nothing but contentment on the features of Miss Mortimer, her mother, and about a dozen other guests who were celebrating our client's engagement. The great paneled dining room was a blaze of light from the chandeliers and from the vast stone fireplace heaped with logs, which cast a mellow glow over the tiled hearth and on the replete form of the dog, Toto, which lay with its paws toward the warmth.

Pons and I occupied positions of honor near the end of the table. The only other people present known to us were solicitor Bradshaw and Pons's invited guest, Tolliver. Colonel d'Arcy himself had welcomed Pons's suggestion, though my friend had given no indication of his inward thoughts on the subject. In truth, there were some half- dozen people already staying for the weekend and The Briars was so vast, the servants so numerous, that Tolliver's presence was hardly noticed.

This Friday evening was the formal engagement dinner, and the Saturday was to be given over to a dance, to which many of the neighboring gentry and their families had been invited. Pons could be an excellent listener on occasion, even though he might be privately bored, and now he smiled encouragingly as a wealthy farmer on his left went on with a tirade about the scandalously low price of potatoes.

Our host and his fiancée were obviously wrapped up in each other, and Bradshaw was engaged in earnest conversation with Mrs. Mortimer, so I was at liberty to study Tolliver. He affected to be listening to a tall, fair girl who had been placed at his right hand, but all the while his eyes were roving restlessly about the apartment, now at the richness of the table decorations, now at the chandeliers, and occasionally at the sullen figure of Vickers who passed to and from the table on various errands.

"An interesting study, is it not, Parker?"

The low voice of Pons was in my ear, his face alert, his eyes missing nothing that went on in the room.

"Indeed, Pons, though I am not quite sure…"

"Of mankind, Parker. Of one's fellow human beings. And there is nothing like a convivial dinner atmosphere, as tonight, for catching them off guard."

"Ah, Pons, you mean Tolliver. And Vicker's attitude…"

Pons's fingers dug into my arm, a warning plainly on his face.

"Hush, Parker, moderate your tones. We do not wish the world to know our business."

He looked around the table coolly, as though enjoying the conversation, while he continued our discourse sotto voce.

"Be on the alert when we retire, Parker. And make sure you have your revolver. If I am not mistaken, something is due to happen this evening."

"So we will not be retiring, Pons?" I said.

He shook his head

"We must keep on the alert. Fetch your revolver from your bedroom after dinner. We had better keep guard in my room since it is the nearest to the colonel's."

"Very well, Pons."

As soon as dinner was over I made my excuses to the company and begged a headache to avoid the gathering in the smoking room. I went straight to my own room and disinterred my pistol from my valise. I checked it carefully, but the cartridges were in the chambers and there was no sign that it had been tampered with. I had just put my case away when I heard a faint creaking outside in the corridor.

It was the work of a moment to cross the carpeting and throw the door open. The dark-faced servant Vickers was standing there. He still wore the green baize apron and the dark suit over the batwing collar and somber tie. Far from being nonplussed he smiled in what I thought a most impertinent manner.

"I just felt you might need something, Dr. Parker."

"There is nothing, thank you," I said stiffly, giving him a disapproving glance.

His smile widened even further. His manner was just this side of insolence.

"How long have you been there?" I asked.

He shrugged.

"Just long enough, Doctor."

And he was gliding away down the corridor before I could remonstrate. I was still fuming when Pons joined me in his room a few minutes later. He flung himself on the bed and chuckled.

"Ah, Parker," said he. "It does not always do to make mysteries where none exist"

"But there's something infernally suspicious about the fellow, Pons," I said bitterly. "He's always hanging about Surely it is plausible to suppose that he might have had something to do with the young nephew's death and the attempt against the colonel's life."

Solar Pons looked up at me with that maddeningly omniscient air he sometimes affected.

"Where does that leave our snake and insect man, Tolliver?" he said dryly. "You are an excellent doctor, Parker, and your diagnoses are invariably right But you have not yet learned to apply the same exacting standards to your observation of human nature in action. You will end by having a multiplicity of suspects. You must first draw the correct conclusions from the material before you."

"Mark my words, Pons…" I began heatedly when my companion arrested me with a sudden gesture of his hand. He sprang up from the bed, drawing his own pistol and putting it down on the counterpane within easy reach.

"The guests are retiring for the night, Parker. I fancy we shall soon hear something."

He glanced at his watch as the gruff voice of Colonel d'Arcy sounded in the corridor outside.

"But I predict it will be an hour or more before they settle. I suggest we make ourselves comfortable, and I have taken the precaution of abstracting a whiskey bottle and some glasses from the dining room so that we shall not find the period of waiting too tiresome."

So saying he reseated himself in a wing chair near the fireplace as the door of Colonel d'Arcy's room quietly closed and footsteps began to the away down the corridors of the great house.

8

More than an hour had passed and the lights had long been extinguished. I eased my position in the chair and waved my hand to dispel the heavy waves of blue smoke from Pons's pipe.

"Patience, Parker," he said softly. "I fancy the time is at hand. If he is to strike it must be done soon because he knows we are on the ground."

We had only a bedside lamp burning in the room and all the time we had been here Pons had been alert, listening for every footfall in the corridor. Half a dozen times he had darted to the room door, opening it a crack, surveying the corridor outside and then returning to his seat. There were two wall sconces still burning in the passage outside, leaving long stretches of shadow, and I understood from Pons that it was Colonel d'Arcy's habit to leave lights on all night whenever he had house guests.

Twice had the surly figure of Vickers been seen by Pons passing along the corridor during that time, but Pons had only smiled at my fulminations and had bidden me to be patient. Now there had been a deep silence for some while though my companion assured me that lights still shone beneath some doors, including that of Colonel d'Arcy.

I had risen from my chair and was taking a turn about the room when Pons jumped swiftly to his feet, holding his finger to his lips. At almost the same instant a terrible scream reechoed throughout the house. It was a woman's voice, hoarse and resonant with terror and it seemed to come from next door. Pons had already flung open the door, revolver in hand.

"As quickly as you can, Parker. It is life and death!"

I was swiftly at his heels, revolver drawn, as Pons flung himself at the door of Colonel d'Arcy's room. He hurled it open without ceremony. I shall never forget the sight that greeted us. The room was lit only be one solitary bedside lamp which threw a subdued glow across the apartment.

The bed coverlets had been thrown back but our attention was riveted on the end of the bed where the figure of a beautiful girl crouched, a look of absolute terror on her chalk-white face. The body of Miss Claire Mortimer was rigid with shock and horror. She was clad only in a dressing gown and her dark hair was awry and falling across her face.

"There, Parker, there!" said Solar Pons, his iron grip at my wrist.

I wrenched my glance from the frozen figure of the girl up toward the pillow. At first I could see nothing, then, from the tumbled white sheets, flickered the greenish coils' of a snake. Its tongue darted from its mouth and a sibilant hissing noise filled the chamber. My throat was dry and my hand unsteady, but Pons's voice brought me to myself.

"A green mamba, Parker. The most deadly snake in all Africa! Your shot, I think."

I raised my revolver, hardly conscious of what I was doing. Yet I was myself again, my nerves calmed by Pons's reassuring presence. He moved closer to the girl, inch by inch, his derringer at the ready.

The crack of my pistol, the acrid sting of powder and the flash were followed by a rain of feathers from the bed, and the bullet cut a vicious gouge in the planking of the floor beyond. Splinters flew in the air as the snake writhed for an instant and then was still.

"Well done, Parker!" said Pons, supporting the fainting girl and dragging her from the bed. I ran to his side and helped him move her to a chair.

"See to that thing, Parker. Make sure it is dead."

Perspiration was running down my cheeks, but my nerves were steady now as I cautiously approached the bed.

"My aim was true, Pons," I said, unable to keep the pride from my voice. Footsteps were sounding in the corridor now, and the room seemed full of people. I was only vaguely aware of Bradshaw, Tolliver, Mrs. Mortimer, and the dark visage of Vickers.

Light flooded the room from a ceiling fixture, and at the same instant I managed to cover the remains of the snake with the bedding. Pons shot me a glance of approval. The bearded face of Colonel d'Arcy appeared. He elbowed his way through without ceremony.

"Good God, Mr. Pons! Claire! What on earth has happened?"

"The lady has had a nightmare," said Pons gently. "All is well now. But I think it would be best if she spent the remainder of the night with her mother. And I should keep this room locked if I were you."

The colonel instantly grasped the situation.

"It is nothing, ladies and gentlemen. Would you please return to your rooms. I very much regret the disturbance."

The sobbing girl, soothed by her mother, was led from the room, and the remaining guests, with curious glances, shortly followed. Our host hurried away, leaving Pons and me alone in that suddenly sinister room.

"I don't understand, Pons," I said.

Solar Pons ran a finger along his jaw, which was grimly set

"I am not entirely clear myself, Parker," he said. "But we shall no doubt learn more in a moment"

Indeed, our host returned almost at once and faced us somberly, locking the door behind him.

cannot thank you enough, gentlemen. If anything had happened to Claire… What was it?"

I pulled back the bedding. Colonel d'Arcy surveyed the mamba with sick loathing on his face. He clenched his fists and his features began to suffuse with blood.

"By God, Mr. Pons, we must discover the wicked mind behind this…"

"It is almost over, Colonel," said Pons quietly. "Though I do not know how Miss Mortimer came to be here."

"She complained of a draft in her room," said our host "Mine was the more comfortable so I gave it to her. The fireplace has more heat, for one thing."

Pons nodded.

"Evidently, he could not have known that," he murmured. "I am afraid Parker and I have made a mess of your floor.. "

Colonel d'Arcy stared at us in amazement. He came forward and wrung my hand, then turned to Pons.

"I am not an emotional man, gentlemen, but Miss Mortimer means more to me than anything in the world."

"I understand that, Colonel," said Pons, frowning down at the thing that still lay in bloody tatters on the bed. "But it will not stop here. Our man knows we are on him. The shot alone would have warned him. He will act quickly. We must act more quickly still."

Colonel d'Arcy looked bewildered. "I am in your hands, Mr. Pons. What do you want me to do?"

"I think this evil man will strike again before the night is out. This time at you, Colonel. I want you to go to my room or Parker's and spend the night there. No one but the three of us must know of this."

"Anything you say, Mr. Pons. What do you intend to do?"

Pons went to stand by the fireplace, holding out his thin hands to the glowing embers. His lean, feral face had seldom looked more grim.

"First, I would like the disposition of the guests this evening and the exact location of their rooms."

"That is easily done," said the colonel.

Pons listened attentively as he gave us the information. He nodded with satisfaction.

"Ironic is it not, Parker?"

"I do not understand, Pons."

"No matter. You will in due time."

He turned briskly to the colonel.

"We must spend the rest of the night in your room, Colonel. I fancy a revolver or a stick will be adequate protection against the menace of the Ipi idol." He looked at me, his eyes alight with excitement "Come, Parker. The game's afoot!"

9

It was three A.M. The night was dark and silent, though a little light came in through a chink in the window curtains. Fog still swirled heavily at the panes. It was cold in the room and my thoughts were leaden. Pons sat opposite me in a wing chair, his face in shadow. The room door was facing me so that I could keep it under observation; Pons's chair faced a locked door which communicated with an adjoining dressing room, which was now being used as a guest bedroom.

It was over two hours since we had come there and I had begun to doubt whether even Pons's rapier like mind had drawn the right conclusions from the situation. I myself thought it unlikely that the murderous brain threatening the household of The Briars would strike again so soon, but Pons was obviously in possession of a great deal more information which had passed me by.

Three o'clock had chimed from a church clock somewhere faraway, and I found myself drifting off into sleep when I was arrested by a hand on my arm and Solar Pons's voice whispering in my ear.

"Hold yourself in readiness, my dear fellow. I think something is about to happen."

There was a faint glow in the room, I saw as I struggled up in the chair. A light had been switched on in the room communicating with ours. There was a gap beneath the door and the radiance spilled across the carpet so that I could make out Pons's set face and the long, slim cane he held in his right hand. I got up from the chair and would have crossed to the door had not Pons gently pulled me back. He put his fingers to his lips, enjoining absolute silence.

I crouched in the semidarkness, a pulse throbbing in my throat, conscious of the chill of the revolver I had drawn from my pocket and which now rested in my right hand. A dark shadow passed across the other side of the connecting door. Someone was standing there. Then there came a faint scratching noise. A long silence ensued. I felt Pons's hand on my arm again. A shadow was growing as something passed beneath the door. There was a minute, rustling noise which set my nerves on edge. I was suddenly conscious that Pons had left my side and I felt a moment of panic

Then the room was a blaze of light, momentarily dazzling me.

"Look, Parker!"

I followed Pons's outstretched hand and felt my throat constrict with nausea. The giant spider scuttled across the carpet toward us. The obscene, bloated thing was covered with hair, and metallic eyes regarded us with alien intelligence.

"A tarantula, Parker! For God's sake, take care. There, you brute!"

Pons advanced, cutting at the carpet with the cane. With a sibilant, hissing noise the thing scuttled back the way it had come. Pons followed it, aiming blows rapidly, but the creature was too quick. It squeezed beneath the door with incredible speed. A shadow moved across the light and then came an agonizing scream that I can recall even to this day, despite the gap of years. Even Pons's nerve almost broke.

He hesitated and then unlocked the door and threw it wide. The sight that met us was one of bizarre horror. A man in a dressing gown was sprawled against the wall where he had been sitting, his hands clawed in agony. Beside him was a felt-lined box, with air holes, from which the spider had evidently come. The distorted features, the glazed eyes, the disheveled hair made the face almost unrecognizable. Then something stirred in the whitening hair and the tarantula sprang to the floor.

"One side, Parker!"

Pons jumped by me and hacked madly at the thing which scuttled between the paralyzed man's legs. He cut and slashed and stamped with a savagery I would not have suspected in him, until nothing but a quivering pulp remained. I felt sick but forced myself back to normality.

"What a vile brute, Pons," I said. "Did you know this?"

"I suspected something of it, Parker," said my companion quietly, throwing down the cane.

"Your department, I think."

I approached the curiously rigid body and was astonished to recognize for the first time solicitor Chadburn Bradshaw.

"Pons! I am astonished. But you knew?"

Solar Pons nodded.

"Almost from the beginning. The facts were fairly clear- cut. But we have no time for that now. Is he still alive?"

I examined the lawyer carefully.

"We shall need to get him to the hospital immediately, Pons. We had better arouse the household. He has been bitten on the forehead, certainly, but it looks to me as though he has all the symptoms of a stroke."

Solar Pons stood looking down at the recumbent, vacant-eyed figure.

"Poetic justice, Parker," he said softly. "I do not think we need waste too much sympathy."

10

"Mr. Pons, I am immeasurably in your debt. I can never repay you enough."

Colonel d'Arcy's strong, bearded face flashed beaming approval as he looked first at my companion, then at me and finally rested upon Miss Claire Mortimer.

Solar Pons smiled.

"On the contrary, I should thank you, Colonel. I have had one of the most fascinating cases I can recall working on and have tracked down one of the most damnable villains who ever forged a signature."

A cloud passed across our host's face.

"I am afraid Bradshaw's machinations have cost me dear, Mr. Pons. From what the Essex police have been able to tell me in the past week, it looks as though he made away with a third of the estate."

Miss Claire Mortimer squeezed her fiancée's hand across the table.

"Nothing has been lost," she said softy. "I have property of my own and we can sell off some of the acreage."

Colonel d'Arcy flushed.

"Do not think it is the money alone, Claire," he said heatedly. "When I think of the cold-blooded horror of that devil's schemes and the danger to which I exposed you…"

He broke off for a moment, looked at the girl, and smiled.

"As you say, the money can be made good. I am the last person to wish anyone dead, Mr. Pons, but I am glad Chadburn Bradshaw has gone to his Maker."

Pons turned to me.

"That was a curious aspect, Parker. Died in the ambulance on his way to the hospital, you said?"

I nodded.

"The shock seems to have brought on a stroke, Pons, as much as the bite. It is a most unmedical conclusion to come to, but one might almost have said that fright killed him as much as anything since he might have recovered from the poisonous wound that creature gave him if we could have given him immediate treatment."

"Things are well as they are," said Solar Pons. "I had my suspicions of Bradshaw almost as soon as I arrived here."

"You cannot mean it, Pons."

"I do mean it, Parker. From what Colonel d'Arcy had told me, I knew that money had to be at the bottom of it. It is at the bottom of most crime, and who is better placed to mismanage the funds than the family solicitor. We have already discussed the nonsense of the Ipi idol and the deaths of Silas Renfrew and his nephew."

Solar Pons shifted in his chair and tamped fresh tobacco into his pipe at Miss Mortimer's smiling invitation to smoke.

"It was ludicrous in the extreme to imagine that a West African secret society would be active in Essex many years after Renfrew's return from those parts. I have no doubt old Renfrew had things in his past of which to be ashamed, and Bradshaw might have hoped that the receipt of the idol would hasten his death because of his advanced heart condition. The police finding a document signed by Renfrew making his solicitor the beneficiary of his estate provides adequate motive."

"But could not Bradshaw have forged that, Pons?" I asked.

Pons shook his head.

"That particular document has been authenticated and provided Bradshaw with the perfect way out. I submit that old Renfrew's condition was such that he did not always know what he was signing. But first Bradshaw had to strike at anyone who came between him and the fortune. He was successful in both the case of Renfrew and the nephew. We cannot know what means he used to kill young Adrian Renfrew except that it was most likely a poisonous tropical insect He could have obtained such a specimen from a zoological garden or from one of the more esoteric London animal supply shops."

Pons puffed at his pipe, the flames of the burning tobacco making little stipples of light on his strong, ascetic face.

"So much is surmise. Now as to fact It must have been a considerable shock to him when the old man made you the sole beneficiary, Colonel, after the death of his son Bradshaw had already made large inroads into the estate money and was desperate for funds. He resolved to strike at you, and he found a ready-made instrument at hand in another distant relative, Tolliver, who quite by chance had come to live some miles off.

"He was also a client of Bradshaw's, which made the whole thing much easier. More to the point, he kept strange pets, among whom were such dangerous specimens as tarantulas and snakes. The police have discovered a heated room at Bradshaw's house, where the specimens he stole from Tolliver were kept at the right temperature until needed. A padded basket kept the insect or reptile warm while being transferred even in this bitter January weather.

"Since Bradshaw was a frequent visitor at both Tolliver's house and your own home, Colonel, he was able to lay his plans with care. Unfortunately for him you escaped his first serious attempt and worse still, were on the alert He had to move quickly, for your pending marriage to Miss Mortimer would put the fortune even farther beyond his reach."

"But how did you come to suspect him, Pons?" I said.

Solar Pons put his pipe down on the table in front of him and tented his fingers.

"Elementary, my dear Parker. And by the same simple process which made you suspect Vickers of deep-dyed villainy."

I flushed, aware of Colonel d'Arcy's amused glance. "How was I to know that he was devoted to the colonel's service and watched over him day and night, Pons? Even to the extent of testing his colonel's liquor supply for poison."

"You must admit, Parker, that I drew your attention to Vickers's behavior, but unfortunately you drew the wrong conclusions from it. A man who has been in the service of a person like Colonel d'Arcy for so many years is surely to be trusted. I put more credence in the colonel's character reading than in village gossip. Vickers's manner was unfortunate, I agree, but his spying was in a good cause. To protect his master."

"Say no more, Pons," I begged. "I still cannot see why you were so suspicious of Bradshaw."

"Even before I had met him," said Pons. "You may recall our near-escape from a dangerous accident on the night of our arrival. I was already on my guard in view of past events — particularly the attempt to kill the colonel. I knew very well the presence of the heavy vehicle on the road in those dangerous foggy conditions was not coincidence. So I made a close examination of the spot."

"And found where another vehicle had come to grief, Pons."

Solar Pons shook his head.

"That was not so, Parker. What I found was the place where the horse and cart had been originally stationed when the axle broke. A car on its way from Tolleshunt D'Arcy had deliberately stopped and drawn onto the shoulder while its driver went about the business of urging the horse back onto the road. It will, of course, be impossible to prove now, but had Bradshaw lived, I think we should have found that he knew the colonel's movements on that day; had waited until the next to last train had arrived; had seen that the colonel was not on it; and had then put his scheme into operation, relying on the fact that there would be no other cars coming from the station that evening. You may have observed that the colonel's was the only car to be parked there."

"That is all very well, Pons, but what directed you to Bradshaw?"

"The simple matter of the tire marks on the shoulder. They were of a country pattern, with heavy V indentations. There was a bullnose Morris parked outside this house that night and the tires corresponded in every respect."

"Remarkable, Mr. Pons," put in Colonel d'Arcy. He looked enthusiastically at my companion.

"That would not alone have been conclusive but it drew my attention to Bradshaw," Pons continued. "When we visited his offices the following day, he made two fatal mistakes. The first was in disclosing his client's affairs to us. No reputable lawyer would do that, but he skillfully revealed the existence of the nonexistent benefaction in favor of Tolliver to provide a motive for murder and misdirect my inquiries. The document he flourished was quite obviously forged, though it was skillfully done. I later compared the signature he had shown me with specimens of Silas Renfrew's own handwriting in this house, and there were a number of subtle differences. Tolliver, of course, was a ready-made suspect, and the presence of dangerous reptiles in his house would have proved conclusive in a normal police investigation.

"But he was frank with me, appeared genuinely worried, and admitted that specimens were missing from his private zoo. That was enough to clear him in my estimation."

"But why did you put Bradshaw on his guard, Pons?"

Solar Pons chuckled.

"That was quite deliberate, Parker. I wanted him to see that we were on the track, that we realized Colonel d'Arcy's life was threatened. He was a consummate actor but I realized that he was alarmed and felt his whole scheme in peril. A man in that condition becomes desperate, and I hoped to throw him off balance and risk all on a last gamble while we were all present in the house. I invited Tolliver to the party because I knew it was an excellent chance to clear him of suspicion, and so it proved.

"Bradshaw had a foot in both camps. He was the only person who could move easily about both The Briars and Tolliver's home, and he would be the last person suspected. When he badly miscalculated with the mamba, due to Miss Mortimer changing rooms with the colonel, I felt sure he would try again. He knew the house intimately and would have had plenty of time to secrete his loathsome charges."

"And the Ipi idol, Pons?"

"So mush rubbish, Parker. Bradshaw had another office in Colchester. It is not worth the proving now, but he undoubtedly posted the package containing his badly sculptured creation from there."

"This is quite astonishing, Mr. Pons," said Miss Mortimer.

"Is it not, dear lady?" said Pons, rubbing his hands together. "I have seldom met a more cunning adversary. Of course, in the normal run of events he visited both the colonel here and Tolliver. In the one case he had ample opportunity of abstracting specimens — the police have found padded baskets, thick gloves, and drugs to put the specimens in a comatose state, at his house — and in the other equal opportunity to bait his horrific traps.

"He saw his last chance in the long weekend you arranged to celebrate your engagement. And when I invited Tolliver — deliberately, of course, in order to get everyone under the same roof — he thought he had his golden chance. I blame myself that it almost ended in tragedy; I did not, for example, realize that the mamba had already been secreted in your bedroom, far less that your fiancée had exchanged rooms with you."

"No one could have foreseen that, Pons," I said.

Solar Pons shook his head.

"Nevertheless, Parker, it was a close thing. When that attempt failed, I realized that Bradshaw would almost inevitably try again that same night. It takes a great deal of nerve to stage these things, and Vickers's activities in snooping about must have worried him. When I learned that Bradshaw's room was next to yours, Colonel, it became a hundred percent certainty in my mind."

"Some more brandy, Mr. Pons. It has been an experience to watch you at work."

Solar Pons smiled. He looked at the crudely carved statuette on the table, which our client had given him as a souvenir.

"Do not forget my good friend Parker here. He showed quite exceptional courage in facing that tarantula. And his cool head in blowing the mamba to pieces prevented tragedy."

"Pray forgive me, Dr. Parker."

I flushed, for in truth Pons's warm words had touched me deeply.

"You forget your own part, Pons," I said. "When I saw you drive that brute back with the cane…"

"With unexpected results for Bradshaw," said Solar Pons slowly.

"A highly appropriate conclusion from our point of view. And as my great predecessor said in the matter of the Speckled Band, I am not likely to let this man's death weigh very heavily on my conscience."