“In what way, pray?”
“In a number of ways, Mr. Pons. For example, a week or two after the first occasion of his strange behaviour at cards, he simply did not turn up for dinner after accepting my invitation. My housekeeper telephoned his home and was told that he had left. Of course, following the dinner, we had arranged a bridge session and his non-appearance naturally annoyed my other two guests.”
“Naturally,” I put in.
Pons gave me a faint smile as he cupped his chin in his hands, his deep-set eyes looking sympathetically at Colonel Mortimer.
“After we had broken up, I strolled around to his house, Mr. Pons. I was hoping to find he had returned and naturally intended to tax him with his remissness and request an explanation. Mr. Pons, I have never been so insulted in my life! His house is only a few hundred yards from mine. As soon as I had rung the bell he appeared on the door-step and pelted me with eggs!”
Solar Pons chuckled and slapped his thigh with the flat of his hand, making a sharp noise like the cracking of a pistol. “Capital, Colonel, capital!”
Colonel Mortimer glared and half-rose from his chair.
“I see nothing funny, Mr. Pons!” he snapped. “It is tragic, sir, absolutely tragic to see a first-class intellect descend to that level. And my suit was absolutely ruined! It cost me fifty guineas in Savile Row.”
I thought Pons was going to laugh out loud but he managed to control himself.
“Of course, Colonel, you are perfectly right,” he muttered. “You must excuse my keen sense of the ridiculous. What was your reaction?”
“Reaction, sir!”
The Colonel was purple in the face now.
“I was speechless. I strode off without uttering a word and when I reached the corner of the street Foy had quietly followed me and brought me down with a flying rugby tackle!”
Pons rubbed his hands together in satisfaction.
“Admirable! This gets more intriguing by the moment.”
“I am glad you think so, sir,” said Mortimer curtly. “By the time I had gathered my wits together Foy had disappeared. I thought to consult my solicitor on the matter but when I had calmed down realised the folly of becoming embroiled legally. I resolved to watch and note carefully the mad antics of my neighbour.”
Here Mortimer paused a moment, took a sip of his iced beer and reached into the breast pocket of his elegant suit. There was a crackling noise as he drew out a long, folded sheet of white paper.
“I have taken the precaution of compiling a sort of diary of these insane happenings, Mr. Pons, both as they came under my own eye and as they were reported to me by others. And whenever there were newspaper reports concerning Foy I have noted the date and page reference. Perhaps you would care to glance down it.”
Pons lowered his eyelids over his eyes and sank back into his chair.
“I think not, Colonel. I would prefer you to read out to me the salient points, if you would be so good. Parker here is a percipient and loyal friend and I find his deliberations and advice on my cases most instructive.”
Mortimer glared at me suspiciously and picked up the paper with a peremptory gesture.
“If you say so, Mr. Pons,” he said ungraciously.
I shifted uncomfortably in my chair at my companion’s words. Rarely had Pons been so expansive and I must confess I felt a warm glow of pleasure at his terms of approbation.
As our prickly visitor showed no sign of continuing, Pons prompted him.
“You told Parker here, if I recall correctly, Colonel, that Mr. Foy rode naked in his Rolls-Royce in the moonlight.” Mortimer nodded grimly.
“I was just coming to that, Mr. Pons. It was the next incident on my agenda, you might say. I resolved to keep watch, as I have said. I was taking my evening stroll at about eleven o’clock a few evenings later and was just turning back to retrace my steps when I became aware that Foy’s Rolls-Royce was gliding along the avenue just behind me.”
“How did you know it was Foy’s vehicle, Colonel?” “Because, as I have said, Mr. Pons, it was a bright moonlight night and his vehicle was absolutely distinctive.”
“In what way, pray?”
“It was pure white, Mr. Pons, with silver inlaid fittings, and in addition to that the man, in regrettable taste in my opinion, had his own personal number-plate.”
Pons raised his eyebrows.
“I have heard of such things, Colonel. And the number?” “FOY 1, Mr. Pons.”
Pons turned to me.
“Well, that is distinctive enough at any rate, Parker.” “Indeed, Pons,” I murmured.
“Imagine my appalled amazement, Mr. Pons, when I saw, as it drew level that the driver was stark naked!”
“It passes belief, Pons,” I muttered.
“Does it not, Parker,” said my companion with a dry chuckle. “To say nothing of a possible contravention of bye-laws. You were sure it was Foy, Colonel?”
“Absolutely,” said Mortimer grimly. “He was grinning inanely and wearing nothing but his top hat.”
“Good Lord!” I could not forbear exclaiming.
“Remarkable,” said Pons, pulling languidly at the lobe of his right ear.
“You may well say so,” the Colonel continued. “That was the opinion of Godfrey Daimler, the City banker, who was walking along the avenue just behind me. He was absolutely thunderstruck.”
“Indeed,” said Pons, his eyes keen and alert. “I understand he is involved in some of Foy’s large-scale schemes.”
“That is correct, Mr. Pons. I must confess my own financial foundations seemed to crumble as I saw that stark, raving-mad figure in the driver’s seat. He seemed absolutely moonstruck.”
“As you say,” observed my companion, rubbing his thin fingers together purposefully.
“What was your reaction?”
“Well, Mr. Pons, we were both taken aback. Before either of us could recover Foy gave a cackling laugh and accelerated off down the avenue. He had disappeared before either of us could recover our wits.”
There was a very alert expression in Pons’ eyes and he looked at me keenly.
“What does that suggest to you, Parker?”
“Insanity, Pons.”
“Perhaps. But it does present one or two indications.”
“You are on to something, Pons?”
“Perhaps, Parker, perhaps. Your next incident, Colonel?”
“A few days later still, Mr. Pons. I had it at secondhand but from an unimpeachable source. Foy was out at Sunningdale Golf Club as a member of a foursome over the week-end. He was down three strokes on the fifteenth. I do not know if you know the course there, Mr. Pons…”
My companion shook his head impatiently.
“I have never taken the slightest interest in golf, Colonel Mortimer, and details of the intricacies of the course, which would no doubt send a golfer into raptures, would only waste your time and my own. Facts, Colonel, as to Mr. Foy’s behaviour, if you please.”
Mortimer glared fixedly in front of him as though outraged at Pons’ remarks and then collected himself with an effort.
“Very well, Mr. Pons. The fifteenth, sir. Foy was three strokes down on the hole and about ten or eleven feet from the pin. Mr. Pons, you will not believe me, but he solemnly produced a billiard cue from his golfing bag, proceeded to chalk it and calmly got down on the turf and potted his ball into the hole! Bless my soul, sir, I have never heard anything like it.”
“It was absolutely scandalous, Pons!” I observed.
“If you say so, Parker,” my companion chuckled.
Colonel Mortimer glared again and seemed to have some difficulty in controlling his feelings.
“I am, to be scrupulously fair, Mr. Pons, giving you only those incidents in Foy’s extraordinary behaviour which came directly under my own observation or those, as I have said, which come from absolutely reliable sources. I have heard even wilder tales but I will leave those out of account.”