A few moments later we were out of the house and striding across the park in the moonlight, the winding road before us. I had a job to keep up with my companion who walked furiously, as though possessed by some galvanic force.
"What on earth are you at, Pons?" I spluttered when I at last caught up with him.
"Let us hurry, Parker. We have not a moment to lose. I fancy our man will strike again tonight when he fancies the coast is clear. I want to be in position long before that moment comes."
I stared at Pons in amazement.
"I do not follow you, Pons."
"My dear fellow," said Solar Pons, unable to keep the note of weariness from his voice. "What on earth do you think that display was for at dinner just now? To allay our man's suspicions. Now he knows that both the police and Solar Pons are off the case he will make another attempt to achieve his objective."
"Then we are not going back to Bath? The case is not closed?"
"Tut, Parker. You disappoint me. Just save your breath for we have a stiff walk before us. I want to get in position near the Mausoleum long before our man appears. The game's afoot!"
And he said no more but plunged along the winding estate road, all powdered silver in the moonlight, at such a rate that I was breathless long before we reached the lodge-entrance.
10
Pons unhesitatingly swung through the main gates of Penderel Lodge and turned left on to the main road back toward the village of Penderel Parva. He put his finger alongside his nose to enjoin caution.
"We must be seen to be well clear of the estate, Parker. That is why we must hurry."
"But where are we going, Pons?"
Solar Pons gave a brief chuckle.
"Farther down the estate boundary, Parker. I understand there are a number of gaps in the walls and hedges. It may take us some while to work back up to the Mausoleum. These woods will be dark, despite the moonlight."
He consulted his watch.
"I estimate that he will not make his move for another hour, until the household is abed. It will then take him at least twenty minutes on foot to reach the Mausoleum. We have already been twenty minutes on the road. That should leave us another hour or so to work our way back."
The way indeed seemed interminable. The moon was high now and shed a brilliant light on road and hedgerow. I was a little perturbed at this but we met nothing on the way and just before we reached the outskirts of
Penderel Parva, Pons led me down a small side-turning which followed the estate wall as it curved away into the middle distance.
"Silence here, Parker," he whispered. "I fancy this is Grimpton's private road and I have no wish to be disturbed by any of his inquisitive cottagers."
We pushed our way along in the shadow of the trees and presently came to a place where the wall fell away and was replaced by a high spike fence. We followed it for another two hundred yards and eventually found a spot where the staves were distorted with damp, leaving us enough space to squeeze through. Our feet shuffled eerily among the fallen leaves as we walked through the dark belts of woodland, guiding ourselves by the faint moonlight which filtered through the bare branches.
The way was longer than we had thought and several times Pons halted and carefully orientated himself. After a stiff uphill walk, which I estimated as taking about twenty minutes, we came out of a silent ride in the forest and on to a cart-track which wound away through the trees. It went in the right direction and with the easier going it was only a few minutes more before we found it joined the tar-macadam estate road about a quarter of a mile from the lodge-gates.
"Just over here, Parker," Pons whispered, his lean face alive with suppressed excitement. "And not a word if you please."
I followed him off the road and into another belt of trees and a short while later we skirted a fringe of bushes to find ourselves in front of a wide expanse of roadway, the white blanched expanse of the Mausoleum standing up sharp and clear before us. Pons moved over and knelt behind a fallen tree-trunk, where I joined him. He put his mouth up against my ear.
"It wants but a few minutes to midnight, Parker. I think we are just in time."
Indeed, we had not been there more than a quarter of an hour before his keen ears picked out a hurried step on the roadway. Then it stopped and there was a long period of silence. Again Pons bent to me.
"He has left the road and gone on to the grass, Parker. He should be here in a minute or so."
His grip tightened on my arm and a few moments later I saw what his keen sight had already picked out; a tall, sturdy figure, heavily muffled in a thick overcoat, which glided cautiously from under the trees. I felt my breath catch in my throat, as there was something inexpressibly sinister about the black shape in the whiteness of the moonlight at that dead hour of the night.
The figure looked round sharply as it crossed from under the trees and then went swiftly up the steps to the great bronze door of the Mausoleum. A moment later I heard the harsh grating of the key in the lock and the gap where the door had been showed black against the white facade. There was another long silence and then I caught the beam of a torch from within the interior. Solar Pons rose to his feet.
"Come, Parker. Our man will be too distracted. There will never be a better opportunity."
We quickly crossed the concourse, bright with moonlight, taking care to make as little noise as possible. We gained the steps without incident and had got up quite close to the doors when there came a harsh grating noise from within the Mausoleum, which set my teeth on edge. Pons swiftly flattened himself to one side of the door and I joined him within the shadow of the buttress. Pons' face expressed satisfaction.
"I have been extremely lax in this matter, Parker. The groove in the floor should have told me. Well, there is nothing better than having one's theories tested in practice. I think we may venture in safely without disturbing our quarry."
He glided into the blackness of the interior and without hesitation I followed. I shall never forget the sight which met our eyes. The interior of the Mausoleum was dimly lit by the rays of an electric lantern whose light was flung upwards from an oblong slit in the floor of the building.
The first thing which struck my eye was the monstrous, elongated shadow of a human being on the domed ceiling. My nerves jumped and I clutched at Pons instinctively. A moment later I saw that the white, dead face which stared back at me from the top of the sarcophagus was indeed marble and belonged to the tomb of our client's grandmother.
The entire structure had been pivoted round on its base which ran in a circular groove which I had originally thought to be an incised pattern in the flooring.
"The bloodied hand marks on the sarcophagus, Pons!" I whispered excitedly.
Pons nodded grimly and motioned me to silence. We moved forward quietly and as we drew nearer I could see that a shallow flight of steps led downward into the aperture that the removal of the sarcophagus had disclosed. We had silently covered half the distance when there was a sharp whirring noise from below, followed immediately by a soft thud and one of the most terrible cries it has ever been my misfortune to hear uttered by a human throat.
I stood paralysed as that unearthly scream echoed and re-echoed round the dome of the Mausoleum but Pons dashed forward, all caution abandoned. I could hear his feet echoing over the steps as I hurried down after him. The cry had ceased now and a moment later I learned the reason why. Pons was kneeling by the crumpled figure at the foot of the steps, while scarlet pumped steadily over the stone floor.
The electric lantern set to shine upon the stout wooden door that barred the passage disclosed a terrible and bizarre sight. From the ceiling protruded a shining metal shaft which had descended with tremendous force from a slot in the wall. The metal arm ended in a lead-cased weight into the tip of which was set the broad blade of an enormous knife, now coated with blood and rust.