When Pons re-joined me he was smiling and rubbed his thin fingers together in jaunty fashion.
“The Canon has given me the key of a small door leading on to the cloisters. I think that should be sufficient for our purposes.”
“What are our purposes, Pons?”
“To apprehend criminals, Parker. It is a pity that you did not bring your revolver, for these are desperate men.”
I frowned.
“I thought we were on holiday, Pons. I do not usually bring deadly weapons on such trips.”
“No, of course not,” said my companion soothingly. “Are you game for the midnight jaunt tonight?”
“Of course, Pons.”
Mr Miggs was deep in conversation with the Canon now so Pons and I came away, walking back slowly through the Close. I was about to make some commonplace remark when, to my surprise, Pons caught my arm in a powerful grip, almost making me cry out.
“They are back earlier than I thought, Parker.”
I followed his glance toward the broad concourse in front of the Cathedral and saw that the girl called Elise was walking purposefully across toward the great main door. We followed unobtrusively. The vast church was still half-full of people wandering about and we had no difficulty in keeping the girl in sight. From where we stood by a massive pillar we could easily see her slip through the wrought-iron gates into the Montresor Chapel.
She was absent for but a minute and when she came out it was obvious from her expression that she was excited and tense. She sat in a chair some distance in front of us, across the aisle, her head bowed as though in prayer. Pons’ voice was calm, his manner distant as he whispered.
“She has deciphered it, Parker. Unless I miss my guess she has taken the bait.”
We waited while the fair girl rummaged around in her handbag. Once again her head was bowed.
“She is composing her reply, Parker.”
Less than a minute later she was on her feet, making her way with confident strides up the aisle toward us. Pons and I slipped round the pillar, as though examining architectural features, but she obviously had no eyes for us. As we watched she descended the stairs to the crypt. I made as though to follow but once again Pons’ hand was on my arm.
“There is no point in following, Parker. Apart from the fact that there may be someone watching inside the church and we do not want to tip our hand. She is undoubtedly agreeing to the rendezvous proposed and will leave her message in a pre-arranged place below.”
He moved out from behind the pillar.
“I think we may as well get back to the hotel.”
“But are we not going to wait, Pons?”
My companion shook his head, a slight expression of irritation passing across his features.
“There is no point, Parker,” he repeated.
He was proven right a few minutes later when the girl passed us in the street as we walked slowly toward our hotel. Solar Pons looked at me enigmatically.
“Now all we have to do is to prime Heathfield and settle down to wait,” he said gently.
9
I shifted my cramped position behind the pew and once again mentally criticised the hardness of the floor. Pons was still and alert at my side. On the summer breeze the silvery notes of church bells — dozens of them from the myriad churches of Norwich — had just pealed for half-past eleven. I leaned toward my companion to whisper.
“It is a pity I did not bring my revolver, after all, Pons.” Faint light glinted on my companion’s eyeballs in the dusky interior of the great cathedral.
“This heavy walking stick will have to do, Parker. Though Heathfield and his men will not be far.”
“You think these desperadoes will come?”
“Undoubtedly.”
“Koch and the girl also?”
“Koch, certainly. I am positive that she will remain with the boat.”
I glanced at my companion’s almost invisible form.
“But how would Koch get into the church?”
“He would not need to, normally. The exchanges take place in daylight. My guess tonight is that his two companions in crime will unbolt or break open a small, little-used side-door. Ah, what did I say!”
A faint creaking noise, seemingly far off, echoed and reverberated in an eerie manner through the vastness of the empty cathedral. There was a long silence and then the furtive sound of shuffling footsteps. Pons put his mouth up against my ear.
“One is coming up from the crypt. The other has already gone to open a door. We shall not have long to wait.”
No sooner had he spoken than there came the faintest pin-point of light, close to the floor and bobbing along the far aisle of the church. It passed away and as we turned to keep it in view, it was blocked from time to time by the vastness of the pillars which supported the roof of the cathedral.
Presently there came the noise of metal on wood and a loud creaking sounded throughout the building. There were low voices now and the distant sound of footsteps and then two more shadowy figures came hurrying along the aisle and passed in the direction of the first.
“Excellent, Parker,” Solar Pons breathed. “My theory was correct.”
“I do not understand you, Pons.”
“There has been some muddle over the place of concealment, Parker. It is just as I thought and accounts for the disorder discovered by Mr Miggs.”
I gave up at this point and concentrated on the faint reflections of light and the sounds coming from a side chapel farther along the aisle. We waited perhaps half an hour, until the noises had died away. Then three shadowy figures crept back. A distant door closed.
“Quickly, Parker!” said Solar Pons, all caution abandoned.
I hurried forward in the thick, glutinous darkness, hard put to it to keep up. He went straight to the area just vacated by the three men. Inside the railed-off chapel interior everything was in confusion. In the light coming through the stained glass window from the city outside I made out a gaping blackness in the oak altar-piece.
“It is as I suspected, Parker,” said Solar Pons. “We have not a moment to lose.”
In a few moments we had let ourselves out into the cloisters and a short while afterwards were hurrying at an undignified pace through the streets of Norwich. Presently Pons slackened his pace.
“There is no hurry now, Parker,” he said calmly. “Our men are just ahead, emerging from that side-street.”
The three shadows were visible ahead and I turned into a shop doorway with Pons. To my astonishment I saw, from the light of the street-lamps, that two of the men wore clerical surplices.
“Are you sure this is right, Pons?” I asked. “These men look like clergymen.”
Solar Pons chuckled softly.
“Do they not, Parker. The best disguise in their circumstances. They would find everything they want in the Cathedral.”
We followed at a discreet distance as the trio moved down Bishopsgate and into Riverside Road. I noticed that the third man seemed to be moving more slowly, weighed down with a suitcase. Now and again the cadences of their voices came to us on the summer breeze. They seemed to be arguing about something. As though he could read my thoughts Pons commented succinctly, “They have not yet realised that a third party was responsible for this midnight meeting. Let us hope they are aboard before the truth sinks in.”
We were nearing our destination now; there were only a few passers-by at this late hour but it was such a beautiful night that a number of people were abroad, strolling in the scented air; some walking dogs while others, obvious lovers, were making for the waterside where the River Yare passed by Norwich Thorpe Station.