"Precisely. He had an unmistakable face — lean, with a hook nose and lantern jaw. When I saw those same traits prominently displayed in the physiognomy of Dabson, the admirable secretary, the coincidence was too great to be chance. I concluded, therefore, that Dabson was a relative of Stoner, who lived only twenty miles away. I established from Crockford's that he was a brilliant speaker, theologian, and author. There is nothing like a fellow student to harbor jealousy, rancor, and envy. When the two men follow the same profession, church or no, they are rivals for life, Parker. And Stoner was close at hand to direct the vendetta."
"You leave me sadly disillusioned, Pons."
Solar Pons shook his head, making sure with a sidelong glance that his pipe was drawing properly.
"You make the same basic mistake as the layman, Parker. Politics and religion are two of the greatest causes of strife and dissension on this planet. Eliminate them both and one would go a long way toward lasting peace."
"Come, Pons," I protested. "You go too far."
"Perhaps," my companion admitted. "But in the case of the Reverend Mr. Stoner, his hatred for the good Dr. Campbell had assumed paranoiac proportions. And in the person of his nephew he found a weak but willing tool Young Dabson was heavily in debt to bookmakers. In return for financial assistance from his uncle, he agreed to the plan to discredit his employer. I have this from his own lips."
He tapped the pocket of his ulster, in which reposed Dabson's signed confession.
"So that as soon as I clapped eyes on Dabson I was suspicious. In the first instance, he had told the rector he would be absent in the north. But here he was back again, unannounced. No doubt, to my mind, to prepare fresh mischief. When I saw traces of cobwebs on his coat, I deduced he had been at work in the church, a fact he himself immediately confirmed. He had, of course, been there to prepare the sick material displayed in the sealed spire. And it was his whole purpose, using Mrs. Harbinger's malice also to bring the rector to the point of going there."
"I must confess I am still not clear about this business, Pons."
"It was the piece de resistance, Parker, and would undoubtedly have succeeded had not Dr. Campbell asked for my assistance. It would have been the final scandal which would have broken Dr. Campbell and allowed his rival ascendancy. Why do you think Dabson went out of his way to call in the press and half the village in addition to Mrs. Harbinger? No, Parker, Dr. Campbell would have been a ruined man as many another discredited cleric before him."
"But the motive, Pons!"
The patient look was back on my companion's face.
"It was before you all the time, Parker. It has been in the newspapers the last few weeks, and I particularly drew your attention to the Times, where the matter was firmly under your gaze in heavy black type. But you insisted on reading out some asinine conclusions about a trunk murder."
I fear I stared at Pons for a long moment as though thunderstruck. A faintly mocking look had settled on Pons's lean features.
"The bishopric of Durham, Parker. That was the key to the whole thing. The article, if you had taken the trouble to read it, referred to the selection of the new bishop, one of the key posts in the Church of England. There were only two candidates, both men of high repute; both authors and brilliant scholars."
"Dr. Campbell and the Reverend Mr. Stoner, Pons!"
"Exactly, Parker. And a man of doubtful sanity like Dr. Campbell, who was involved in sexual and other scandals over a period of months in his own village, would hardly be preferred over someone of the Reverend Mr. Stoner's character."
I sat back in the cab.
"What a damnable villain, Pons. And I have been extremely obtuse."
"On the contrary, Parker, you have been invaluable, as always. And with your assistance we have persuaded Dr. Stoner to withdraw, and Dr. Campbell's preferment is assured."
"What will you tell him, Pons?"
"Merely that young Dabson was called away due to the illness of a relative. He will not return. And I have no doubt that within a day or two we will see that the Reverend Mr. Stoner's candidature has been withdrawn."
10
And so It proved. Pons and I were at breakfast a month later when he slit open a large buff envelope which had come in the morning's mail. A check fluttered to the carpet, and I picked it up and handed it to him. He smoothed it and raised his eyebrows.
"From Dr. Campbell. He has been extraordinarily generous, Parker."
"I take it he is to be the new bishop of Durham, Pons?"
"Ah, you have seen this morning's Times."
I nodded, studying Pons's face as he rummaged about within the envelope.
"I fancy Dr. Campbell's advancement will be rapid from now on, Parker. He is seventy, which is a mere stripling as senior churchmen go. I would expect to see him translated to York within five years. Do you realize that by the time he is seventy-eight, our client might well be the new archbishop of Canterbury?"
"You are joking, Pons!"
Solar Pons put down his teacup and looked at me severely.
"I was never more serious, Parker. But in the meantime a more pleasant duty. Here is an invitation for us both to attend the investiture of the new bishop of Durham at the end of March. I trust you will be free, my dear fellow."
Pons paused and then chuckled.
"I fancy Dr. Campbell will be none too sorry to arrive at Durham. I fear he will have found great difficulty in persuading Mrs. Harbinger that I have not burned the Great Scroll of Thoth."
The Adventure of the Six Gold Doubloons
1
"The laws of chance operate in quite arbitrary ways, Parker, and despite all man's puny efforts and painstaking care, the best-laid schemes often come to naught."
My friend, Solar Pons, was sitting on the park bench looking at me with a mocking expression. It was a beautiful day in early summer, and Hyde Park was crowded with people strolling or sitting on the grass while London's traffic came as a muffled roar from beyond the tall iron railings. I stared at my companion in astonishment.
"Really, Pons! Your deductive feats become ever more astonishing. That was just what I was thinking."
Pons chuckled.
"There was little magical about it, Parker," I can assure you. For the last fifteen minutes you have been completely absorbed by the activities of those ants on the tree stump just behind this bench. During all that time a band of them has been engaged in the herculean effort of transporting a large wood splinter to the top of the stump. It must weigh hundreds of times their own weight and yet they have persisted. I noted by your expression that your enthusiasm was entirely with the ants. Yet, just as they were on the point of success, the thing slipped and has tumbled to the bottom again. All is to do once more, and by your crestfallen expression I read, aright it seems, your rueful thoughts on not only the ant's but on man's condition."
I joined in Pons's smile.
"Well, well, Pons, my thoughts were somewhat on those lines. Yet I never cease to wonder at your intuitive reasoning."
Solar Pons shifted his lean form on the bench and idly rested his gaze on the people passing on the asphalt path in front of us.
"Unfortunately, Parker, there is so little happening within the orbit of the private consulting detective these days that one is forced into such modest displays in order to prevent the ratiocinative faculties from rusting. Look at this old gentleman approaching, for instance. What do you make of him?"
I turned my gaze on the object of Pons's attention. He was behaving in a peculiar manner, I saw instantly. He wore a suit of rusty black and a scarlet muffler round his neck, despite the heat. His arms shook uncontrollably and tears streamed down his face. Ever and again he stopped on the path and raised his eyes to heaven, while a stream of half-intelligible comments came from his lips. He was hatless and his long white hair streamed about his shoulders. Altogether he was a bizarre and pitiful sight.