“Brilliant, Pons. But what does it mean?”
“Elementary to the first, my dear Parker. And I do not know, to the second. But we progress.”
He rubbed his thin fingers together with satisfaction as I traced out the simple message from the apparently chaotic jumble of letters.
“You will notice, Parker, that as is common with such simple ciphers when he reaches A he merely goes back to the end of the alphabet and substitutes Z.”
“I see, Pons,” I said. “This is extremely important. Ought we not to tell Canon Stacey?”
Solar Pons shook his head.
“Not unless we wish to frighten our men off altogether, Parker. We must tread very carefully indeed.”
“If you say so, Pons. But I must say all this is a far cry from our peaceful holiday.”
My companion’s eyes were alert and shining.
“On the contrary, Parker, I am in fine form. I have all the benefits of a holiday together with the mental concentration on a criminal problem which so appeals to my peculiar nature.”
“You think Koch and the girl are involved?”
“I should be extremely surprised if they were not.”
“But what is all this business about two rough men, Pons, and coffin lids in the crypt rising?”
Solar Pons smiled enigmatically.
“The whole thing is linked, Parker,” he said in that maddeningly omniscient way of his. “They are merely using the Cathedral as a dead letter-box.”
“As a letter-box, Pons?”
I gazed at my friend in bewilderment. He leaned toward me across the table.
“So far as I know that is the means by which they communicate. As to the link which binds these disparate elements together, so far I have not been able to discover it. There is one simple, obvious fact staring me in the face but I cannot see it.”
“Ah, well, Pons,” said I, leaning back in my seat, “if you will forgive me I will leave these difficult problems of yours and immerse myself in the evening paper. I feel a little out of touch once I am away from town.”
“By all means, Parker,” said Solar Pons affably. “I will just put this ridiculous cipher away and enjoy an after-dinner pipe. Are you game for a stroll about the town before we turn in?”
“Certainly, Pons,” I said. “Providing you give me half an hour in which to digest my dinner.”
Solar Pons smiled, glancing round the half-empty dining room and tamping the bowl of his pipe. He was soon contentedly wreathed in aromatic blue smoke while I occupied myself with the day’s news.
“Hullo,” I said at last. “Here is an item concerning your old friend Superintendent Stanley Heathfield. And he is in the Norwich area!”
“Indeed?” said Solar Pons coolly, wrinkling up his brows at me through the pipe-smoke.
“It seems to be a desperate business, Pons. Two hardened criminals have escaped from prison in the Midlands and are believed to be hiding in Norfolk. Superintendent Heathfield was responsible for sending them to prison and has been sent up from the Yard to assist in the hunt, as he knows them both personally.”
“When was this escape, Parker?”
There was an urgency in Pons’ voice which had not been there before.
“About three weeks ago, Pons,” I said, checking the article.
“I think you had better let me have that, my dear fellow,” said my companion, stretching out his hand for the newspaper.
“Apparently they robbed a bank in Norwich itself of £20,000 two years ago, Pons. The money was never recovered. We seem to be the centre of excitement wherever we go.”
“Do we not, Parker,” said Solar Pons, his brows knotted over the newspaper account. “This is extremely interesting.”
He put the journal down arid sat frowning into the far distance. I knew better than to interrupt him. Presently he rose from the table.
“If you have finished, my dear fellow, we will take our walk. According to this account Heathfield is making The Bull his headquarters. I think we will pay him a little call.”
7
“Mr Pons!”
Superintendent Stanley Heathfield’s keen, military-looking face with its iron-grey moustache, was suffused in smiles as I followed Pons into the bar.
“I am as surprised as you, Superintendent,” said Pons drily. “You know Dr Parker, of course. I only read of your presence in the city in the newspaper this evening.”
“Ah, that.”
A shadow passed across the Superintendent’s face. He moved farther down the polished bar of The Bull to give us room.
“Will you not join me in a drink?”
“Delighted,” I said.
When Heathfield had given the order to the attractive girl behind the bar he looked at us quizzically.
“I am not quite clear what you are both doing in Norwich.”
“We are nominally on holiday,” I said somewhat bitterly, “but Pons has already found a problem with which to occupy himself.”
Superintendent Heathfield smiled a thin smile.
“Trouble seems to follow us both, Mr Pons. Health to you.”
He raised his glass in salute, looking critically at the milling people in the bar around us.
“Let us find somewhere more quiet, Mr Pons. I would be glad of your advice.”
Solar Pons had an ironic look in his eyes.
“Our co-operation may be mutually beneficial, Superintendent. I suggest we adjourn to the hotel lounge. It appeared to be almost empty as we passed through the entrance hall.”
“As you wish.”
The Superintendent’s tall figure led the way to the oak-beamed lounge. There were only a few elderly people dotted about in arm-chairs and the pleasant summer breeze came in through the open windows, bringing with it the scent of cut grass and roses.
“It takes a good deal to beat England at this time of year, Superintendent.”
“You are right, Mr Pons. But you did not come here to discuss gardening.”
My companion chuckled, easing his lean form into a deep leather chair in the secluded corner the Scotland Yard man had chosen.
“As always, your reasoning is accurate. You are looking for two escaped convicts. I am involved in a problem which concerns four people. I think our pooling of ideas may be mutually beneficial.”
Superintendent Heathfield twisted his grey moustache with sensitive fingers.
“You think the two things are connected?”
Pons nodded.
“Before I begin I would like to extract a promise from you.” Heathfield shifted in his chair and looked at my companion with serious eyes.
“That depends upon the promise.”
“I do not think it is one you will find hard to keep. It is just this. I do not wish to have the full panoply of the law involved in my own problem. My suggestion is that you alone should be concerned.”
The Superintendent raised his glass to his lips.
“The three of us in other words?”
“At this stage, yes. You know the persons, after all. I have only half the threads in my hand.”
Heathfield nodded, looking from my companion to me.
“What have I got to lose, Mr Pons? Naturally, I shall have to hear the whole story from your own lips. But I think I can give that promise in advance.”
Solar Pons smiled.
“Very well, Superintendent.”
He looked at me with an almost dreamy expression. He fumbled in his jacket pocket, producing the small wooden container we had picked up in the Cathedral crypt.
“Before we let our friend in on the little secret, Parker, I think we should just compose a suitable message in order to bring our quarry to the bait.”
“How do you mean, Pons?”
Solar Pons shook his head.
“I know that we are nominally on holiday, my dear fellow, but you have not been following my line of reasoning.”