“Well, young man, you have certainly achieved your purpose!” Solar Pons chuckled, as a blond-haired child with a sly expression emerged from beneath the mask.
“Why, Pons, that is exactly…” I began.
“Is it not, Parker?” Solar Pons interrupted calmly, as he caught the eye of the bearded proprietor.
The boy scampered off and the knots of customers at the counter clearing, the owner of the shop advanced toward us. “I have a nephew some twelve years old and am looking for a suitable present,” my companion began, to my astonishment. The bearded man grinned.
“Well, there’s an excellent choice here, gentlemen.” Solar Pons looked beyond him to the carnival masks. “Sell a lot of these, do you?”
The man looked casually at his stock.
“A fair amount for a small place like this. Fireworks Night, fancy dress parties and that sort of thing. The youngsters like putting these on and scaring folk.”
“What about this one, for instance?”
Solar Pons reached out a languid hand and pulled down one of the green masks with the red eyes.
“Funnily enough, that’s been a fairly popular one this winter, sir. Sold a lot of them from October onwards. As a matter of fact, I had to order fresh stock. These only came in this morning.”
“Indeed. You sold them all to children, I suppose?”
The unclouded eyes above the beard looked innocently enough at us.
“A few adults, too. Parties and practical jokes, I suppose. There’s only one thing wrong with them for a shilling.”
“And what might that be?” Pons asked, as though he had no other interest in the world but carnival masks.
“They tear too easily. See?”
The proprietor reached one of the hideous things down. He exerted a little pressure at the top of the mask with his fingers and a minute crack appeared in the material in the area of the hair-line.
“Well, thank you. You have been most helpful, Mr…?”
“McMurdo,” said the bearded man shortly. “Take your time, gentlemen. If you don’t see what you want come back another day.”
He returned to the counter as several more children trooped in.
“He seems a most amiable fellow, Pons,” I observed.
“Does he not, Parker,” said my companion, looking sharply through the gloom at the proprietor.
“You don t think he could have been responsible, Pons? That hideous mask is absolutely the same as the face seen by the gardener!”
“You are remarkably observant, my dear fellow. And as for friend McMurdo I am reserving judgment. But the presence of this shop in the village raises interesting possibilities.”
And he looked thoughtfully at the leering monstrosities about us.
7
“Mr Solar Pons, sir! This is an unexpected honour.”
Inspector Horace Cunliffe’s grizzled features were suffused with pleasure as he held out a massive hand for my companion to shake. He sat in an old-fashioned office of the local police station with a big fire roaring in the grate and a sheaf of official-looking documents on the battered old desk in front of him.
“Don’t tell me this phantom business brings you to this corner of Essex.”
Solar Pons smiled faintly and dropped into a seat near the fire. The Inspector pulled up another chair for me and we sat toasting ourselves for a few seconds.
“It has brought you from Colchester, apparently, Inspector.”
The officer looked at my companion shrewdly.
“Touché, Mr Pons. I see that your reputation for sharpness has not been exaggerated.”
“There must be some reason for your staying on here, when you have other important duties in the county. You evidently do not think it just a village joke, as some people would have me believe. Despite your reported words in the public press.”
The Inspector blew out his cheeks once or twice and looked at Pons with a shrug.
“Ah, there you have me, Mr Pons. You have seen through my little stratagem. I hoped, through the reports I disseminated via the Press, that I would allay this fellow’s suspicions and that he would strike again.”
Solar Pons looked at the police officer approvingly.
“You will undoubtedly make your mark in the force, Inspector.”
The Inspector’s open face flushed with pleasure.
“There is something markedly wrong in the matter and I mean to get to the bottom of it.”
Solar Pons produced his pipe and turned it over absently in his fingers.
“Ah, you have noticed that, have you?”
The Inspector nodded, his grey eyes fixed on a corner of the mantelpiece.
“Instinct, Mr Pons. I have been in the force for fifteen years now and it has never led me astray before. Faces do not appear at windows fortuitously and heart or no heart attack Mr Boldigrew died as a direct result, if we are to believe the nephew.”
“And you do believe the nephew?”
Cunliffe’s eyes moved from the mantelpiece to take in my companion’s face.
“I am a good judge of character, Mr Pons. Until something comes up to disprove my theories, I believe Mr Balfour’s story.”
“Excellent, Inspector. I am sure we shall get on well together.”
“Ah, then you have been retained by the nephew?”
Solar Pons nodded, his deep-set eyes observing the thickset police officer sharply.
“It will be a pleasure to work with you, Mr Pons. I will be open with you and I am sure you will let me know if you come across anything.”
Cunliffe paused and looked at my companion almost apologetically.
“I have my methods, sir, and would prefer to keep my own counsel for the moment. Tidewater is a terrified village and many people have been frightened by this thing. Therefore, I shall not return to Colchester until I have satisfied myself about the so-called face and the circumstances of Mr Boldigrew’s death.”
The Inspector broke off and looked at Pons with twinkling eyes.
“I rely on you to keep me informed, Mr Pons.”
“I can assure you of that.”
Solar Pons stood up, a tall and commanding figure in the little office.
“You think this phantom figure will strike again?”
“It seems likely, Mr Pons. I am sure I need not underline my reasons for thinking so. In the meantime I watch and wait.”
“An excellent dictum, Inspector. I will be in touch. I wish you well in your investigations. Come, Parker.”
“Well, Pons,” said I, as we regained the misty street, “the Inspector seems to have his head screwed on tightly enough.” Solar Pons smiled thinly.
“As I surmised before we ever came to Essex, Parker, he is an extremely shrewd and capable officer. I think we can safely leave the general run of affairs to him.”
“But you have already formed some conclusions, Pons?” “Tentatively only, Parker. I would prefer to wait a little longer before coming to any definite opinion.”
I nodded, following the spare form of my companion as he threaded the attractive winding streets of the village.
“You seem to know your way remarkably well, Pons?”
My companion stopped in a doorway, his eyes bright as he lit his pipe. He contentedly puffed out smoke over his shoulder.
“I have had the advantage of examining Balfour’s large-scale map of the area before you were up this morning, Parker. We have only some half a mile to go.”
“The residence of Ram Dass, Pons?”
Solar Pons smiled, his head thrust down into the collar of his warm coat, the stem of the pipe clamped between his strong teeth.
“The Grange it is, Parker. I think we shall learn something there to our advantage.”
“Do you not think, Pons,” I said, “that this business may have been exaggerated? These children, for example. With these green masks might they not have been playing jokes?”