I noticed he again had his gaze fixed upon a large cabinet photograph in a silver frame which appeared to depict Foy, an elegant woman, presumably his wife, and a small child. He turned from the picture as the housekeeper moved to the trolley to pour the sherry.
“Regarding your son, Mr. Foy,” said Pons musingly. “A handsome child is he not…”
He broke off and I looked at the housekeeper in astonishment. Mrs. Harewood gave a choking cry and put the decanter back on the tray with a heavy clatter. She looked wildly round the room for a moment and then rushed out. Heavy sobs could be heard in the hallway. I got up as the millionaire crouched like a beast at bay behind his desk. His face was grey and his oil-covered hands clenched and unclenched as though he could not control them. I fancied I could hear the grinding of his teeth as he forced the words out through his trembling lips.
“Who are you and what do you want here?”
He was addressing Pons, not me and I stared in alarm at the wild-looking figure of Hugo Foy, whose control seemed to have left him entirely. Solar Pons put his hands in his pockets and looked at our host coolly, a wistful smile on his lips.
“Well, I am not a miniature railway enthusiast, Mr. Foy, as you have no doubt divined. Shall we just say one who has your interests at heart.”
The millionaire was on his feet now, his face distorted with anger and fright. I have never seen such a change come over a man in all my years of medical practice.
“No-one can help me, Mr. Johnson! I desire no help! Kindly leave my house at once.”
Pons gave Foy a little bow, his eyes never leaving the other’s face.
“If you should need my assistance at any time, Mr. Foy, I will be in touch with you at a later date.”
The millionaire’s face blazed with anger and a little colour was coming back into his face.
“How dare you gain entrance to my home under false pretences! I have a good mind to call the police.”
Solar Pons smiled thinly.
“An excellent idea, Mr. Foy. I observe there is a telephone on the desk at your elbow. I shall await their arrival with interest.”
Foy bit his lip and he appeared to sway on his feet. He passed a hand over his face with a wearisome gesture.
“Forgive me, Mr. Johnson, or whatever your name is. All the same I should be grateful if you would leave me in peace.” Solar Pons inclined his head.
“As you wish, Mr. Foy. But you have not heard the last of us.” I followed him out of the room, clutching my briefcase, only thankful that I had not had to expose my flimsy railway expertise to the scrutiny of the millionaire. The housekeeper was nowhere to be seen and a pert maid let us out, wide-eyed and obviously agitated. Solar Pons strode back through the sunshine of the grounds so swiftly that I had difficulty keeping up with him.
“Well, Parker, what do you make of it?”
I shook my head, watching our shadows, long and heavy on the dusty path.
“Mr. Foy has all the aspect of an angry and guilty man, Pons.”
“Has he not, Parker. We shall have to act quickly. He is a person labouring under severe mental strain and may do anything in his present mood.”
A sudden thought flickered across my mind, like a faint streak of lightning against dark cloud.
“Heavens, Pons! You do not think he would do harm to his own child? His agitation stemmed from your questions about the boy.”
I stopped and stared at Pons as the implications sank in. “Perhaps money is involved. You surely do not imply…” Pons interrupted me abruptly with an emphatic shake of his head. We resumed our walk toward the entrance to the grounds.
“A mentally sick man could do anything, Pons,” I said slowly. ‘The Colonel’s observations may be only the tip of the iceberg. Ought we not to call in a mental specialist?”
Solar Pons had a faint smile at the corners of his mouth now.
“Hardly, Parker. You forget we have no standing in this matter at all. We are here on sufferance, at the behest of your acquaintance, Colonel Mortimer. We shall have to tread very warily indeed if I am to unravel this business.”
And he said no more until we had regained our own quarters in Praed Street.
-5-
We fell to on a late lunch and Mrs. Johnson had no sooner cleared the first course than Pons filled his pipe and sat puffing moodily, until he was enveloped in plumes of acrid blue smoke. I stood it as long as I could and then moved pointedly nearer the open window. Pons smiled sardonically.
“Forgive me, my dear fellow. Just let me have your own impressions of the sudden madness of Mr. Hugo Foy, now that you have had the opportunity of observing him at close quarters.”
I shook my head.
“I am no nearer plumbing the depths than I was before the visit, Pons.”
“Come, Parker. Surely you have formed some opinions?”
“He is obviously mad, Pons. You saw how he behaved today. We already have all the examples enumerated by Colonel Mortimer and he is a man not at all given to exaggeration.”
Pons drew his eyebrows together, his forehead corrugated with concentration.
“I must take your word for that, Parker. The boy appears to be the key to this matter.”
“His son, Pons?”
My companion nodded, his face grim through the smoke. A sudden thought had come to me. I stared at him as though thunderstruck.
“You are not suggesting that he has done away with the child, Pons? It is too horrible to contemplate!”
Solar Pons blew smoke away from his face impatiently.
“You are not concentrating, Parker. Mr. Foy’s madness is in one area only. I postulate that this is of the utmost significance.”
I glanced at him sharply through the wreathing bands of smoke.
“I do not follow you, Pons.”
My companion chuckled.
“It would not be the first time, Parker, if I may say so without offence. Just use your considerable ratiocinative gifts and we will go through the salient points together, one by one.”
“Well Pons, it seems to me that we have already discussed the subject ad nauseam. Of what use can it be me going through the thing again, when all is so dark?”
Solar Pons gave me an approving look.
“Modesty was ever one of your virtues, Parker. You are the man in the street, par excellence, if I may make so bold.”
“You have not offended me, Pons, but your meaning is not at all clear.”
“You are the supreme catalyst, Parker. You put your objections to the matters under discussion so simply and clearly that I have no difficulty in eliminating the dross, which facilitates my going to the heart of the matter.”
“You certainly have a very elaborate way of dressing up your disparaging remarks,” I grumbled.
My companion shot me an approving smile.
“I am waiting, Parker.”
“Mr. Foy appears to be, as you say, insane on only one subject.”
“And that is?”
“His business life. He was certainly as matter-of-fact as I in his operating of that model railway.”
Pons stabbed the air with the stem of his pipe.
`There you have it, Parker. A palpable hit. Your bluff manner conceals considerable shrewdness.”
“Come, Pons, I am tiring of the game in this heat. You surely have some indications which lead you in a particular direction?”
Pons nodded.
“I have had some exhaustive inquiries made, Parker. The implications are disturbing.”
My impatience must have shown on my face for my companion relented.
“Here, my dear fellow.”
He rummaged in an inside pocket of his jacket and thrust a typewritten document toward me. It bore the printed heading of a well-known department of the public service and was headed Confidential. The word was underlined three times.