"I cannot remember when I have been so taken by a case. When does the play open?"
"Next month, Mr. Pons. I won't deny it — my wife was perfectly right. I am terrified of this business, especially after Stanwell's death. There is something diabolical and inevitable about it. Please save me, Mr. Pons."
There was a pathetic quality in his earnest plea and Solar Pons held up his hand with a comforting gesture.
"Now we know what we are up against, we are forewarned. This menacing person obviously wants to punish you in some public way. Therefore, we have only to fear the actual performances. I would like to attend a few rehearsals, in order to verse myself in the story of the play. And at the same time I will make a thorough examination of the theatre.
Elijah Hardcastle let out a sigh of relief.
"Nothing could be easier, Mr. Pons. I will make arrangements with the manager."
"But be discreet. I do not want any outside people to know why I am there."
Hardcastle had a startled look on his face, as Pons made a thorough examination of the wrappings of the fourth parcel.
"You do not think it could be any member of the company?'
"It is quite possible, Mr. Hardcastle. You have not yet told me anything of the possible motive."
"Motive?"
"Come, come, every man has his enemies; that is especially true of the theatrical profession."
There were small spots of red burning on Hardcastle's cheeks now.
"Well, I must be frank with you. This matter is too serious for anything else. I have perhaps been over-fond of the ladies in my time. It is a human failing to which performers are particularly prone."
Solar Pons smiled thinly.
"You mean a jealous husband might be at the back of this? It is a possibility we must not overlook. Have you anyone in mind?"
Hardcastle spread his hands wide: there was something irresistibly comic about the gesture, as though his actor's vanity were saying unmistakably to us that the field was an extensive one and the suspects many. Something of this must have crossed my friend's mind also because there was a mocking smile on his lips.
"Frankness, Mr. Hardcastle. We shall be discreet about this."
Hardcastle fidgeted with the handkerchief in his breast pocket.
"There are two names," he mumbled. "I will write them down for you."
3
Gravel gritted beneath our feet as we walked along the path in the grounds, skirting the great somber banks of rhododendron. The weather was bitterly cold and I swung my arms as I followed Pons' spare figure. He was in great form; his energetic pace had drawn protests from me.
"You ate too much for lunch, Parker," he admonished me. "You are paying for it now."
"When I require you for my medical adviser, Pons," I said with some asperity, "I will inform you of the fact."
Solar Pons turned his laughing face to me over his shoulder as he strode onward.
"Touché, my friend. You are right to admonish me. But I have much to think about and my pace is but a reflection of my racing thoughts."
With that he slackened his stride and I drew level with him. It was close to dusk now and we were coming alongside an ornamental lake, the steel-gray sky reflected back from the ice on its surface. The gloomy vastness of the park which surrounded Hardcastle's great house seemed to me to epitomize the grim problem faced by Pons. We were walking on grass and the going was downhill so my breathing slowly returned to normal. But the exercise had done me good and a pleasing warmth soon spread throughout my numbed limbs. Pons had now lit his pipe and he puffed out streamers of aromatic smoke as we walked.
"Let us just have the benefit of your commonsense approach in this matter, Parker. You are an admirable touchstone."
"It seems very mysterious but there must be an obvious explanation. The person who threatens Hardcastle's life evidently lives in London. He has been frustrated once but he most likely will strike again at the opening of the new play. As for suspects, there must be many people in your client's professional career."
The puzzled frown remained on Solar Pons' face. He shook his head.
"That is all very well so far as it goes, but it does not take us much further."
I looked at my companion.
"I do not quite follow you."
"Motive, Parker. Motive." Solar Pons stabbed the air with the stem of his pipe to emphasize his points.
"There has to be an extremely strong motive in all this. So far it eludes me. The skillful wax models; the obvious time and trouble they took to create; the familiarity with the threatened man's lifestyle and movements; the threats and the differing mode of execution; the failure of the police to uncover the murderer when Stanwell was struck down; even the foreknowledge of the forthcoming plays."
"An ardent playgoer, Pons?"
"Perhaps, perhaps."
Solar Pons put his hand on my arm. We had skirted the lake, still walking on the grass, and had come opposite a small wooden summerhouse which stood on the bank. It faced the water and naturally the open side was away from us but I now heard what Pons' sharp ears had already caught: the sound of voices, speaking urgently in high altercation.
"I tell you, Dolly, I cannot do as you ask!"
"Cannot or will not, Ellie?"
There was no difficulty in recognizing Hardcastle's voice. But the second was a woman's; a cultured voice of a proud and imperious spirit. Her voice was raised in tones of passionate anger and I saw by Pons' furrowed brow and the flash of his eye that he attached great importance to the conversation. I was about to move away but again Pons' hand was on my arm restraining me, his lips curved in a half-smile.
"It's over between you — the inevitable is long overdue!" "You are reading far too much into it, my dear."
There was a pause and the two actors in the drama had evidently moved to another part of the summer-house for when their voices came again they were muffled by distance.
"I must warn you, Ellie, that things cannot go on in this manner. I do not wish to threaten…"
"By God, you had better not do so, Dolly!"
There was black anger in Hardcastle's voice and the wooden wall of the summerhouse echoed to a tremendous crash as though he had dashed his fist against it. A moment later there came the crunching of boots on the gravel and the huge form of Hardcastle strode savagely away in the dusk, taking the path that led from us round the other side of the lake. Pons watched until he had faded from view and then led me back to rejoin the path some way down.
"The butterflies on the Sussex Downs are gravely threatened this year, I understand, Parker." he said gravely.
I looked at him in astonishment. Our feet gritted on the gravel path and I almost made a loud exclamation as my companion pinched my forearm.
"Indeed, Pons," I said loudly, clearing my throat.
We were almost level with the front of the summerhouse when an imperious woman in furs burst from it. She came straight toward us with no attempt at concealment. I had an impression of icy beauty; of upswept blonde hair; and a manner close to tears beneath the anger.
The fur coat and the expensive little hat were utterly out of place in this country park and her blue eyes blazed as she swept past us. Pons doffed his hat and she acknowledged.the courteous gesture with the faintest lowering of her eyelids. A few moments later she had gone. Pons looked after her with a quizzical expression on his face.
"Dolly Richmond has quite a temper," he remarked mildly. "I should not be surprised if Hardcastle has to keep his eyes open on two fronts during the run of this new play."
"The famous actress!" I exclaimed. "There is motive enough for murder in what we have just heard."