I don't know exactly what. Someone called the police, you see. I only heard about it in a roundabout way. My girl Alice came round early this morning to warn me. So I cut out. I wandered about all day. Then I remembered what I'd heard about you and decided to ask your help."
Solar Pons shook his head.
"Unwise, Hardcastle," he said gently. "It was the worst thing you could have done. If the police suspect you, as you suggest, and wish to interview you, they will find you soon enough."
There was dismay on the young man's face.
"I am sorry, Mr Pons. I probably lost my head. I felt trapped, you see."
"I understand the feeling," I said sympathetically. "But Mr Pons is right. We must go straight to the Zoo. We will both support you."
"Hold fast, Parker," said Pons with a light laugh. "I make allowances for your enthusiasm, my dear fellow, but this is my case and I dictate the conditions. I have not even agreed to take it as yet."
"I beg your pardon, Pons," I said apologetically. "I naturally assumed…"
Solar Pons held up his hand and Hardcastle, who had been rising to his feet, subsided gently in his chair.
"Do not concern yourselves. I have decided to take the case. Unless I am a worse judge of character than I imagine, Mr Hardcastle is a transparently honest man. But I have not yet finished my questions."
He got up briskly.
"Now, Hardcastle, cast your mind back. I want to know more about these incidents; what your movements were; and particularly what things were found in your locker."
He glanced at the clock in the corner.
"There is nothing to be gained by a visit to the Zoo at this hour of the evening. The premises will be closed and the authorities will not welcome us. There will be time enough tomorrow. But a visit to the police is an entirely different matter. We must make contact with them tonight and have our story ready. Superintendent Heathfield, I think. Scotland Yard are already engaged in the matter."
He turned back to me.
"Now, Parker, I am sorry to turn you out again but I would be grateful if you would hail a cab. I will finish questioning Hardcastle here en route to the Yard."
3
When I returned to 7B Pons was already dressed for the street and our client was wearing a suit of gleaming oilskins which Mrs Johnson had hung on a peg in the hall. Pons flung me a glance of approval.
"Hardcastle has just been telling me about the material discovered in his locker. An axe which had been used to smash a kiosk, fragments of wood still on it; some red paint similar to that which daubed a restaurant wall a few weeks ago; duplicate keys to some of the animal houses; a pair of gloves covered with paint-stains."
I stared at Pons sombrely.
"It looks bad on the face of it, Pons."
"Does it not, Parker. But there is a factor of great significance."
He smiled reassuringly at Hardcastle's doleful face as we descended the stairs to the lower hall.
"And what is that Pons?"
"There is no key to Hardcastle's locker and in fact none of the lockers belonging to the staff of the Lion House are ever locked."
"I fail to see the importance, Pons."
"Tut, Parker. Use your ratiocinative processes. If the locker had been secured things would have looked black.
But in such a situation anyone could have placed the material there."
"I see, Pons. Of course."
Solar Pons stroked his ear with a thin finger.
"In fact, assuming Hardcastle's innocence, I have never heard of such a fatuous and clumsy attempt to implicate anyone. But it gives rise to some intriguing possibilities.
There is a good deal more here than meets the eye. It is a pity you cannot remember more about the incriminating material in your locker, Hardcastle. I appreciate you heard most of the details from your young lady, but you should have paid closer attention."
"I am afraid I was too agitated at the time," said our client apologetically.
He led the way down the steps to where the taxi waited and a few moments later we were lurching through the fog and rain toward our destination. On arrival at Scotland Yard Solar Pons sent up his card and we were rapidly shown to a discreet room on the third floor where Superintendent Stanley Heathfield had his office. He himself rose from his desk as a plain-clothes officer showed us in, his eyes gleaming with pleasure.
"You know Dr Parker, of course," said Solar Pons casually. "This young man is a client of mine. I will introduce him presently."
"As you wish, Mr Pons."
Superintendent Heathfield waved us into comfortable chairs and went back to sit at his desk. A number of sporting prints in gilt frames were hung on the green-painted walls of his room and a gas fire burned comfortably in the grate.
"You are working late, Superintendent."
"You know very well this is our usual routine, Mr Pons. Fencing for information, are you?"
Solar Pons leaned forward in his chair and smiled thinly.
"Just sounding out the ground, Superintendent." "There is a great deal on, Mr Pons. And I am expecting a visitor. But it must be something of great importance that brings you here on such a foul evening. Perhaps you are stuck on a little problem? Well, we are always happy to assist at the Yard."
Solar Pons smiled again.
"Touché, Superintendent. You are in fine form this evening, I see."
Heathfield's eyes twinkled as he glanced round at us in turn.
"Have some tea, gentlemen. I have just taken the liberty of ordering a tray."
He sat back at his desk and examined his perfectly manicured finger-nails as a woman in dark overalls entered and set out the cups and a pot on a corner of the desk. When we were alone again he was silent as he poured. Hardcastle rose clumsily and passed the cups to us. Heathfield sat back and regarded us with quizzical brown eyes. With his tall figure and clipped, iron-grey moustache, he looked more like a dapper Army officer than ever.
"We have not worked together since that business of Elihu Cook Stanmore, Mr Pons."
"This is nothing like that, Superintendent. Just a little puzzle connected with London Zoo."
Superintendent Heathfield had straightened behind the desk now and his eyes were no longer humorous.
"Little puzzle or no, Mr Pons, it is certainly no joke. I am having to deploy a great many people in order to catch this madman who is endangering life and limb."
Pons' eyes caught our client's and then swivelled to the Superintendent again.
"Something has happened today?"
Heathfield nodded.
"It was in the evening paper but you may have missed it. Someone let out a Polar bear. Nasty business. One attendant badly injured. I had to get some marksmen in and shoot the brute."
Hardcastle had turned white and his eyes held a mute appeal as he stared at Pons. My companion appeared oblivious to him, however, his eyes apparently fixed vacantly in space.
"Dear me, Superintendent. You have been on the spot?"
Heathfield shook his head.
"I have just returned from a murder investigation in Surrey, Mr Pons. We are under some pressure at the moment. But I am on my way to the Zoo shortly, if you would care to accompany me. Sir Clive Mortimer, the President of the Zoological Society is coming over. No doubt he is enraged and will be critical of police methods. It is to be expected. I think it only right to go and see for myself, though this confounded Phantom is proving incredibly elusive."
"Well, well," said Solar Pons in a monotone. "Perhaps you will have some news for him. I would like you to meet my client here. John Hardcastle is under-keeper at the Lion House and a young man who is unhappy about this whole affair."
There was a long moment of silence as the Superintendent stared at Pons. Hardcastle had gone white and sat as though rooted to his chair, beads of perspiration streaking his face. Heathfield half-rose and then seated himself again.