"What effect, Pons?" I asked.
Solar Pons smiled enigmatically.
"All in good time, I fancy, Parker. Much depends on this scene setting, so I rely on you, my dear fellow. You must also introduce into the conversation as naturally as possible that Dr. Campbell desires Mrs. Harbinger to be told of his intentions."
I nodded.
"I see, Pons. You intend Mrs. Harbinger to be present. But I fail to see how the opening of the spire will assist us in our purposes."
"All will be made clear, Parker," Pons interrupted curtly. "Now, I have just a few more preparations to make."
He put his finger alongside his lips as though to enjoin caution and took up the bag he had brought from the rectory and placed it down near the wardrobe in the corner. Then he opened one of the doors and went behind it so that he could use the mirror. I sat in a chair by the bed and smoked, passing the time as best I could.
I could see only Pons's legs, but I judged there was a good deal of activity going on before the mirror and from time to time a lean hand came but from behind the wardrobe door and rummaged in the bag.
As used as I was to Pons's strange variety of disguises, I could not resist a start of surprise when a dry cough interrupted me. Looking up, I beheld Dr. Campbell in front of me. The stoop; the redness of the face; the white, wispy hair; the gold-rimmed spectacles; even the somewhat quirky walk; all were uncannily duplicated. I stood up and stepped toward him.
"Pons!" I cried. "You have excelled yourself."
My companion smiled and straightened his body. Now that I was up close I could see that it was indeed he, but the impersonation was remarkable. I saw now what he had brought in the bag from the rectory. An ancient umbrella and some of the fusty, antique clothes of our eccentric client completed the picture of an elderly cleric.
"I see you approve of my little charade, Parker."
"I think I have made that clear, Pons," I said, "but I am not quite certain in my mind as to its exact purpose."
"Ah, Parker, small villages like Shap have many eyes and ears," replied my friend, his pupils sparkling behind the spectacles. "At an appropriate time this evening I shall make my way down the back stairs of this hotel, carrying this empty case. When you have delivered your message to Dabson, you must cut through the churchyard and meet me in the church porch. I have already obtained the necessary keys from the rector, though he does not know my intention of entering the sealed chamber."
"What do you expect to find, Pons?"
"Certainly not the Great Scroll of Thoth!" rejoined my friend, his eyes glinting with humor. "But I fancy this evening will see some surprises. We will first break open the trapdoor to gain entry. This will give us time to inspect the room. Then, when Dabson has been given sufficient leeway to collect Mrs. Harbinger, I intend to quietly disappear from the church. You will remain in the spire and I will then make a far more public entrance into the churchyard. I fancy that will precipitate the necessary reaction."
"Ah, you are acting as a decoy, Pons?"
"Something of the sort, Parker. But surely you must have guessed what little game is being played by now."
I shook my head.
"I am completely in the dark, Pons"
Solar Pons stared at me in silence for a moment.
"Yet you have all the components of this little puzzle in your hands. No matter. Things will resolve themselves before the evening is out, I fancy."
7
The rain had stopped but there was a slight mist rising from the damp earth as I walked past the churchyard and paused at the drive leading to the rectory. Gas lamps bloomed at the edge of the green and a comforting glow came from the houses around The village of Shap, which had seen so many strange and scandalous events exploding about the head of its rector, was apparently innocuous and quiet.
But I wondered just what thoughts and schemes were maturing beneath the bland facades of the trim houses and particularly behind the cozy red curtains of Mrs. Harbinger's dwelling.
Mrs. Jenkin opened the door at my ring, a smile of welcome on her face.
"Mr. Dabson is in the study, Mr. Parker. Do you wish me to announce you?"
I shook my head.
"I can find my way, thank you."
Young Mr. Isaac Dabson was sitting at the rector's desk when I entered the room at his command to come in. He rose with a frank smile of welcome on his face and shook hands affably.
"I am sorry if I appeared a little irritable last night, Mr. Parker, but I had a long and tiring journey."
"I quite understand," I said. "I regret having to disturb you. I have a message from my colleague. Dr. Campbell telephoned him at the hotel a short while ago. He asked me to tell you that the rector is returning to the village tonight, when he will go to the church to open the sealed spire."
The secretary's eyes were alive with interest.
"Had he any instructions for me, Mr. Parker?"
I shook my head.
"Only that he desired you to let Mrs. Harbinger know of his intentions."
Dabson nodded, his face heavy with thought.
"Do you know when he expects to arrive in Shap?"
"Sometime after nine o'clock," I said casually. "There will be plenty of time to let Mrs. Harbinger know."
The secretary drew himself up.
"Certainly, Mr. Parker. Thank you for your courtesy over the message. And now, if you will forgive me, I have much to do this evening."
We shook hands again and I bowed and withdrew. Mrs. Jenkin was coming across the hall to let me out as I closed the door. I hesitated and then decided not to tell her any- tiling; if Dabson wished to take her into his confidence, he could. But Pons, though he had not mentioned the housekeeper specifically, would not wish to involve her, I felt sure.
So I merely wished her good evening and a few minutes later, having crept cautiously around the rear of the churchyard, where I joined the path leading from the direction of the railway station, I found myself in the gloom of the church porch. I had only a few minutes to wait before I heard the faint gritting of a shoe on the wet flagstones and Pons was at my side. I could see by the faint light of a streetlamp which penetrated the churchyard at this point that he still wore the clothes and makeup of Dr. Campbell. He put his hand on my arm and drew me deeper into the porch toward the massive oak door.
"Excellent, Parker. I take it the first part of our little scheme has been put in motion?"
"All went well, Pons," I whispered. "Dabson seemed inordinately interested."
Pons chuckled dryly. He was already inserting a key into the lock and gently exerting pressure. A few moments later we were within the musty interior of the church. Pons left the door unlocked and, waiting for our eyes to adjust to the gloom, led the way down the aisle, away from the altar, to the rear of the church. "We have no time to lose, Parker," he said crisply. "Whatever is in the spire must be dealt with before I make my public entrance."
He waved away my hurried questions and, using a small pocket flashlight whose beam he kept low to the ground, drew back the curtains leading to the vestry.
"I have been studying the plans of the church and, if I am not mistaken, Parker, the tower entrance should be somewhere here."
As he spoke a faint beam centered on a low, Gothic archway barred by a varnished oak door. This had the key in the lock, and swiftly we ascended a narrow, winding, wooden staircase and were soon on the platform directly beneath the peal of bells. Pons ignored them and went on up a rough wooden stair that came out onto a small landing. I was close at his heels and waited while he took out his magnifying glass and examined some faint marks in the dust on the floor.