Basil Copper
The Secret Files of Solar Pons
To James — Gratitude
The Game's Afoot…
Whatever your fancy in the polished old world of deductive, detective cunning — a corpse/figure dragging itself from the edge of a misty marsh, burning and writhing with bluish fire; a bizarre murder staged on a play's opening night; a mysterious scoundrel's attempt to steal a set of rare idols; or a horrified heiress and her terrifying legacy of death — Solar Pons will quickly capture your curiosity and leave you hungering for more.
Soon you will find yourself a regular visitor at No. 7B Praed Street, eagerly peering into the mind of the contemplative Pons. And as you faithfully follow the master about charming, chilling fin-de-siècle London, discreetly clutching and un-clutching your hands between counterplots and climaxes, you will know that you have found a lifelong companion — the inquisitive and incomparable Solar Pons, heir to the genius that was once uniquely Sherlock Holmes'.
#01 Regarding Sherlock Holmes
#02 The Chronicles of Solar Pons
#03 The Memoirs of Solar Pons
#04 The Casebook of Solar Pons
#05 The Reminiscences of Solar Pons
#06 The Return of Solar Pons
#07 Mr. Fairlie's Final Journey!
#08 The Dossier of Solar Pons
#09 The Further Adventures of Solar Pons
#10 The Secret Files of Solar Pons
#11 The Uncollected Cases of Solar Pons
#12 The Exploits of Solar Pons
#13 The Recollections of Solar Pons
#14 Solar Pons-The Final Cases
The Adventure of the Crawling Horror
1
"There are some things, my dear Parker,into which it is better not to inquire too closely. They are far more poignant than words can express."
"Eigh, Pons?"
It was a bitterly cold January day — still, with a touch of ice in the air. I had finished my rounds early, it was just dusk and I was reading the newspaper in front of a glowing fire in our quarters at 7B Praed Street awaiting tea, while my friend Solar Pons busied himself with a gazetteer at a small table near the window. He turned his lean, feral face toward me and smiled faintly.
"I see from the headlines there that you have been reading of the Bulgur atrocities. From the expression on your face I surmise that the massacres in that quarter have moved you deeply."
"Indeed, Pons," I rejoined. "It recalled to my mind my own experiences in the field."
Solar Pons nodded and pushed back his chair from the table. He held out his thin hands to the fire and rubbed them briskly together.
"It is a sad commentary on mankind's foibles, Parker, that different countries cannot learn to live together. There is crime enough, poverty enough and disease enough without nations massacring one another over the finer points of doctrinaire religion or the pink and black shadings on a map."
I put down the paper and looked at Pons approvingly. "At least you do a good deal to help the world, Pons, by bringing criminal miscreants to justice."
Solar Pons' eyes twinkled as he crossed over to take his favorite armchair at the other side of the fireplace.
"I do my humble best, Parker. But it is good of you to say so, all the same."
He broke off as a measured tread sounded on the stairs.
"Here is the excellent Mrs. Johnson. By the sound of it she is heavily laden. As you are the nearest to the door, be so good as to open it for her."
I hastened to do as he requested, admitting the smiling figure of our motherly landlady. As she bustled about setting the table, I resumed my seat, appreciative of the appetizing odor rising from the covered dishes.
"As you have a client coming at eight o'clock, Mr. Pons, I took the liberty of preparing high tea. I hope you have no objection, Dr. Parker?"
I glanced at Pons.
"Certainly not, Mrs. Johnson. If you wish, Pons, I can vacate the sitting room if you have private business.…"
Solar Pons smiled, his eyes on Mrs. Johnson.
"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear fellow. I think it is a matter which might interest you. It promises some interesting features."
He tented his fingers before him.
"Perhaps you would be good enough to show my visitor up immediately on arrival, Mrs. Johnson. From the tone of the letter I have received, he — or she — is of a retiring nature and wishes the visit to be as discreet as possible."
"Very good, Mr. Pons."
Mrs. Johnson finished laying the table and stood regarding us with a concerned expression.
"I hope you will begin at once, gentlemen, or the food will be spoiled."
Solar Pons chuckled, rising from his chair.
"Have no fear, Mrs. Johnson. We shall certainly do justice to it."
The meal, as Mrs. Johnson had indicated, was appetizing indeed and my companion and I had soon disposed of the Welsh rarebit with which the repast began and rapidly made inroads into the grilled kidneys and bacon with which it continued. I put down my knife and fork with satisfaction and poured myself a second cup of tea. I stared across at Pons.
"You have received a letter about this matter, then, Pons?"
Solar Pons nodded. He raised his head from the gazetteer he had been studying at the side of his plate.
"From Grimstone Manor in Kent, Parker. It does not seem to be marked on the map or indicated in this volume. It is my guess that it will turn out to be a remote area of the county on the marshes near Gravesend. Or failing that, somewhere in the Romney Marsh district."
"You expect to go there, Pons?"
"It is highly likely," replied Solar Pons casually. "From the tone of my client's letter it sounds a bizarre affair indeed."
He reached out for the pile of bread and butter Mrs. Johnson had left on the platter and liberally spread a slice with strawberry jam from the stoneware pot.
"It is as well to know something of the ground and the salient features of interest before one takes to the field. Though it seems as though I shall gain precious little out of it financially."
I stared at Pons interrogatively, aware of an ironic twinkle in his eye.
"I had never noticed that money was a decisive factor in your cases, Pons."
My companion chuckled.
"And neither is it, Parker. Except that my prospective client is either Silas Grimstone, the notorious miser and recluse… "
He drew a soiled and discolored envelope from his pocket with an expression of disgust and pulled from it an even more disreputable-looking enclosure. He frowned at the signature.
"… Or Miss Sylvia Grimstone, his equally miserly niece. From what I hear the couple live together with her acting as housekeeper. They are as rich as almost anyone you care to name, yet each outdoes the other in scrimping and saving. It is something of a contest between them."
He smiled again as he passed the crumpled letter to me.
"Which is the reason for my remarks. The letter, so far as I can make out, is merely signed S. Grimstone. But whichever of the unlovely pair wish to engage me as client you may bet your boots that my fee will be minimal."
I withdrew my eyes from the cramped writing to regard Pons.
"Why are you taking the case, then?"
Solar Pons shook his head, resting his hands on the table before him.
"I have already indicated, Parker, that the matter seems to present outstanding points of interest. I would not miss it if I decided to remit my fee altogether."
He shifted at the table and reached out for the bread and butter again.