"Forgive me, Mr. Pons. I am a person ordinarily of a phlegmatic and prosaic nature, but I confess the events of the past twenty-four hours would be enough to upset anyone. Perplexing, most perplexing."
Pons rubbed his thin hands together.
"Do go on, Mr. Beresford. This agency exists to unravel perplexing problems. Eh, Parker?"
"Certainly, Pons," I agreed.
Beresford leaned forward in his chair and cupped his hands round his tumbler to conceal the slight trembling which ran through his robust frame.
"I run a small photographic business off the Strand, Mr. Pons. You may have heard of us. Nothing very fancy. Myself as principal, with two other photographers and my darkroom staff. Though I trust we are not unknown in the larger world."
"Quite so," I said. "I have often seen your work in the sporting press."
Beresford turned a look of approbation on me before proceeding.
"I've been at the game a long time, Mr. Pons, but as the principal I cannot leave it alone. So I often take to the field myself, as it were, picking and choosing the assignments that most interest me. As it happens we have had a rush of work the past few weeks, and the flu epidemic has made things difficult this winter. Both my men were down and one of the darkroom staff."
"I am indeed sorry to hear it," Pons rejoined. "And you yourself have had to take to the field again? Pray continue."
"Well, Mr. Pons," Beresford went on, "only the past twenty-four hours need concern us. As you gathered, I have been taking portraits and action poses of footballers these past two days. Yesterday I was at the Chelsea ground. When I got back to my studio, I found that a whole section of the plates in my leather plateholder had been smashed. Quite wanton damage, I can assure you. I had left them on the grass near the stadium and noticed nothing amiss at the time. Fortunately, they were unexposed and so no harm was done."
Pons's form had undergone a slight change at our visitor's narrative and now every line of his body expressed intense interest. His keen eyes never left Beresford's face.
"This is quite unique, I take it?"
Beresford nodded.
'It has never happened in my life before. Sheer vandalism, sir. I had one or two calls at private houses yesterday — you may remember the weather was fine in the afternoon — and I took a bus back to my studio. I met an acquaintance on the bus and was busy talking. Judge my surprise when I checked later to find another section of slides missing from their place in my leather case."
Pons's eyes were positively twinkling now.
"Excellent, Mr. Beresford. This becomes more intriguing by the minute. Do go on."
"Well," said Beresford, giving Pons an indignant look. "That's as may be but it's a serious matter to one in my profession. I had only put the case down on the seat for a few minutes and had stepped across the aisle to talk to my friend."
"So someone sitting nearby could have taken this material?"
Beresford nodded.
"Exactly. Apart from my placing the bag down at Chelsea it hadn't been out of my sight the rest of the day."
The indignation and frustrated rage in Beresford's voice was deepening now.
"This was only the beginning. Mr. Pons! At lunchtime 7
today I came back into my premises to find the front door smashed."
"In what manner?"
"The glass panel had been broken and the catch pushed back. I found my darkroom in disorder and several negatives which were drying had been broken in the manner of the plates at the football ground. I had reason to believe I had disturbed the intruder for the back door into the alley was half-open."
"So that the person who wishes you harm might not have had time to see what he was destroying, Mr. Beresford?" said Pons.
Beresford looked puzzled.
"Eh, Mr. Pons? I don't think I quite understand…"
"No matter," rejoined Pons briskly. "You have more to tell me, I take it?"
"I most certainly have," Beresford went on grimly. "Not an hour ago I was coming through a small alley in the Soho area when I was set upon from behind. My hat was jammed over my eyes so that I couldn't see; I was kicked and tripped; and the plates in my holdall were tipped onto the cobbles and trampled on!"
Beresford's calm had so deserted him that his voice rose to tones of sobbing rage as he described the indignities which had been thrust upon him. There was silence in the room for a moment. Pons sat with his lean, febrile fingers tented before him in an attitude of deep thought.
"My brother-in-law lives nearby," Beresford continued after an interval. "I visited him and cleaned myself up. He advised me to call upon you."
"You have done wisely, Mr. Beresford," said Pons. "This is a most absorbing business which intrigues me greatly."
He glanced at me keenly.
"I would be happy to take up your case, Mr. Beresford. Some private photographs, a football team, and a large number of smashed negatives. What do you make of it, Parker?"
"Vandalism, perhaps?" I suggested. "The whole thing seems pointless." "Exactly, Parker," Pons chuckled. "Which is exactly why there has to be method behind it."
He lapsed into thought.
"Have you a list of your appointments for the past two days, Mr. Beresford? I think we can ignore events before that since these incidents began only in the last forty-eight hours. You did not, of course, glimpse your assailant this evening?"
Beresford shook his head.
"Unfortunately not, Mr. Pons. By the time I came to my senses all I could hear was the noise of running feet along the alley."
"No matter," said Pons. "I confess I have not been so taken by a problem for a long time."
He got up and went over to his bureau, returning with a note pad and pen.
"If you would be good enough to jot down your engagements together with any other relevant data, Mr. Beresford, I shall be glad to look into the matter. I will step around to your studio in the morning at about ten o'clock."
"I am most grateful, Mr. Pons," muttered our visitor, scribbling furiously, as though the barrel of the pen were the neck of the man who had assaulted him. I could not forbear a quiet smile at his vehemence, though on reflection I had to admit that I should have been twice as indignant had I been in his position.
"Here you are, Mr. Pons."
Beresford moved to Pons's side and passed him the sheet. My companion glanced at it swiftly, his brow corrugated.
"That will do admirably, Mr. Beresford. I see you visited Chelsea again today."
He looked at the almost invisible patch of green on the left leg of our visitor's trousers.
"I take it you had no trouble on this occasion?"
The tall, bearded man drew himself up, reaching for his now dry ulster from the chair.
"I made sure of that, Mr. Pons. I took my bag of plates out into the center of the field with me. Fortunately, the negatives were not among those destroyed this evening."
He inclined his head stiffly.
"Until tomorrow, Mr. Pons. And thank you."
"Until tomorrow, Mr. Beresford."
Beresford buttoned his coat and strode toward the door.
"Good night, Doctor."
We listened to his heavy tread descending the stairs. Pons threw himself into his armchair, his eyes dancing with mischief. He gave a dry chuckle and rubbed his hands together.
"A pretty problem indeed. Continue with your analysis, Parker."
"A hoax, perhaps. Or a business rival who is out to ruin Beresford's reputation?"
Pons shook his head.
"You will have to do better than that, Parker. I commend to you the incident of the abstraction of the photographic plates on the omnibus."
I gave a faint snort of irritation.
"Perfectly simple, Pons. The thief could not smash them because it was a public place and he was surrounded by passengers. So he took them to break at his leisure."