“Might is a big word, Inspector,” said Pons with a twinkle in his eye.
He turned back to the little man.
“Tell me, Mr. Biggs. One thing still puzzles me and may have a profound bearing on your experiences. Did your friend Nazreel Pasha know Achmed personally? The answer might be of vital importance.”
Biggs turned red and shifted his feet on the carpet.
“I see your drift, Mr. Pons. So far as I know Nazreel Pasha did not have any personal contact. He recommended Achmed to me one day in Cairo and he turned up at my hotel the following afternoon.”
“I see.”
Solar Pons got up from his chair and stood smoking thoughtfully for a moment or two.
“By which time the unfortunate Chief Inspector was already floating in the Nile. Nevertheless, it is a point which needs clearing up. High-ranking Museum officials in places like Egypt are not averse to making fortunes on the side from drug-running, if Mr. Biggs will forgive the suggestion. A discreet word with the Cairo police authorities should take care of that, Jamison.”
The Inspector stuck out his jaw pugnaciously.
“I take your drift, Mr. Pons. I will do the necessary. I have learned a great deal here tonight.”
“Life is a university, Inspector,” said Solar Pons quietly. “We can all learn a great deal by using our eyes and ears as we progress from day to day.”
He looked at me inquisitively.
“Now, if you have no further questions, Parker…” “None, Pons,” said I, getting to my feet.
My companion smiled reflectively.
“I would give a great deal to see the Baron’s face tonight.” He held out his hand to Biggs and the Inspector in turn. “And now, Parker, it is almost two in the morning. I would not like to incur Mrs. Johnson’s displeasure by keeping you out so late.”
The Adventure of the Hound Of Hell
-1-
It was a bleak January dusk and the snow, which had commenced three days earlier, had started falling on the capital in earnest as I returned in late afternoon to our cosy sitting-room at 7B Praed Street. There was no light on except for the landing, which Mrs. Johnson usually keeps burning, and there was nothing but a flicker of brindled firelight as I opened the door. So I was considerably startled to see a shadow moving by the window and immediately stepped to the switch.
I blinked in the sudden radiance at the common, vulgar-looking apparition dressed in a loud plaid overcoat, who rose from my comfortable armchair by the fire. He wore an immense, tobacco-stained moustache, his face looked inflamed by drink and his bleary eyes stared at me from beneath matted silver hair.
“Begging your pardon, guvnor!” he said in a loud, grating voice, which seemed to reverberate through the room. “Begging your pardon, but I was told to wait.”
“Were you?” I said, surprised and on edge at the suspicious appearance of this stranger in our rooms. He seemed to smell of tobacco and strong drink as I moved closer to him.
“And who might you be?”
“Thaddeus Thwaites, guvnor, if it pleases you.”
“I’m not so sure that it does,” I said, putting down my bag on a chair and divesting myself of my overcoat.
“Mrs. Johnson let you in, I suppose?”
The man in the plaid overcoat shook his head, a thin trickle of snow on his hair melting in the heat of the room and running in a rivulet down his florid cheek.
“Didn’t see no-one, guvnor. Let meself up.”
“Indeed,” I said tartly. “Who asked you here?”
“Mr. Pons, guvnor. Mr. Solar Pons.”
I looked at him dubiously.
“Oh, well I suppose it’s all right, but I haven’t seen him all day. You might be in for a long wait.”
“That’s all right, guvnor. I’ve got plenty of time.”
“That may be, but I haven’t,” I said somewhat irritably. “I’m cold and tired and I want my tea.”
I turned round to warm my hands at the fire when I was astonished to hear a familiar voice behind me.
“By all means, Parker! Let us have it together but there’s no need to be so curmudgeonly!”
I wheeled sharply about, hardly able to believe my eyes. In place of the disreputable-looking stranger stood my friend, smiling, and pink-faced, but undoubtedly Solar Pons. His overcoat, moustache and other accoutrements had been thrown into the armchair, where they lay all tumbled and he had swept the tangle of hair back so that it was possible to recognise his features.
“Pons! That was a shocking trick to play.”
My companion smiled, rubbing make-up from his cheeks with his pocket-handkerchief.
“Only a little experiment, my dear fellow. I have been down Barking way on a highly dangerous and confidential mission and it was vital that I should go unrecognised. I was not sure but now that I have deceived your highly-trained medical eye it has put my mind quite at rest.”
“You overdid the voice a little, Pons,” I grumbled. “I expect I would have found you out had the conversation continued a few minutes longer.”
“Possibly, Parker, possibly,” said my friend languidly, sweeping the disguise into a heap on the floor and throwing himself indolently into his own armchair, where he stretched out his lean legs contentedly to the fire. He brought out his empty pipe and clamped it between his strong teeth.
“Contrary to what I told you I did see Mrs. Johnson before I came up and apprised her of my little plan. She said you were expected back shortly and she will be up with high-tea for us within the next few minutes.”
“Excellent, Pons. I can certainly do justice to it this weather.”
“It has been severe now that you mention it, particularly out on the river.”
I stared at him in astonishment.
“You do not mean to say you have been on the Thames, Pons?”
“I had to go aboard a barge in the course of my inquiries, Parker.”
Solar Pons stared at me quizzically.
“Do not be alarmed, my dear fellow. I did not swim there but went in a small rowing-boat.”
I sat down opposite him and rubbed my half-frozen ears. “So I should hope, Pons. Though I would not put anything past you.”
“Ah, that sounds like Mrs. Johnson now,” said my companion, getting up to open the door for her. “Come in, Mrs. Johnson. Our little joke quite deceived the good doctor.”
Mrs. Johnson pursed her lips and a smile flickered over her good-natured face.
“You say ‘our’, Mr. Pons, but I hope Dr. Parker will not get the impression that I was a party to this deception.”
“Doubtless Parker will form his own conclusions,” said Pons blandly, picking up the materials of his disguise from the carpet.
“Give me three minutes to wash and assume my own persona, Parker, and I will join you. You might pour the tea while I am gone, if you would be so good.”
He had no sooner rejoined me than there came a hurried knocking at the front door. Mrs. Johnson looked flustered, and glanced at us both sharply in her concerned, motherly way.
“Goodness me, Mr. Pons, I hope it is not a client on such a bitter night. And right in the middle of your meal too!”
“At any rate, Mrs. Johnson, it is someone who sounds as though he is in a hurry and has urgent business,” said my companion, who had just taken his place at the table.
“Would you like me to go, Mrs. Johnson?”
I was starting to my feet when our gracious landlady stopped me with a smile.
“It will not take me a moment, Mr. Pons, and I have, in any event, finished here.”
“If it is someone for me, you might be good enough to bring us another cup and saucer,” said Pons. “Whoever he is, he will be half-frozen, for the wind is getting up.”