The orchestral accompaniment was rising to a crescendo and I could see the intent, strained face of the conductor as he worked the musicians up to the finale. Hardcastle had finished his speech and behind him the hooded figure which concealed the famous actress was drawing nearer. The noose was slipped quickly round the throat and Hardcastle began his terrifying choking noises.
I was momentarily distracted and lowered the revolver. But at the same time the bearded man in front of me was galvanized into action. He turned and instead of threatening Hardcastle as I had expected, he hurled his rifle into the orchestra pit. There was a loud clatter and a peculiar whining noise. As I blundered forward, revolver raised, the man with the beard evaded me and sped across the stage like lightning. He cannoned into Hardcastle and the girl and the whole group went down with a tremendous noise.
At the same moment there was a streak of light across the spotlights and something struck the back of the stage with a tremendous crash. I did not wait for any further explanations but hurled myself forward at the bearded man as the auditorium exploded into uproar. I seized the legs of the attacker and attempted to drag him off Hardcastle as the house lights went up.
I was stupefied as the thin man's beard came off in my hands to reveal the mocking face of Solar Pons.
"My dear fellow," he said ironically, "if you will kindly remove your not inconsiderable weight from my person I should be much obliged to you."
"Pons!" I stammered. "I thought you were the person who sent those figures to Mr. Hardcastle."
Pons shook his head as I helped him to his feet.
"I felt it best to take advantage of the dressing room facilities while I was treading the boards," he chuckled. "The persons I suspected knew me too well. I knew you were behind me and trusted to your sense of self-control not to queer my pitch. Nevertheless, it was a close-run thing."
He gestured to the back of the stage where the head of a steel-shafted arrow was buried deep in the back flat of the scenery.
"Good heavens, Pons! Did you know this would happen? I thought we had to fear only the opening night"
"I suspected something of the sort, Parker. Which was why I asked you to be alert. But just give me a hand with Hardcastle and Miss Richmond, will your"
The great actor and his companion had remained stunned on the floor during this exchange but now the stage was beginning to fill with people and Hardcastle bad found his voice.
"What the hell do you mean by this, Mr. Pons? You have ruined the performance!"
"Something else might have been ruined if I had not intervened," said my companion drily, indicating the arrow.
Hardcastle turned white and he and Miss Richmond exchanged frightened glances. Pons was casting sharp looks toward the front of the stage but now he relaxed somewhat.
"What were you doing with that shotgun, Pons?" I asked.
"Tut, Parker, it was not a gun but an ornamental walking cane," he said carelessly. "You no doubt mistook the smooth ebony of the shaft for a gun barrel in the half-light. I threw it into the orchestra pit to put our friend off his aim."
"Orchestra pit, Pons?"
Solar Pons gave me an enigmatic smile.
"Certainly, Parker. I saw quite early on that it provided admirable cover, particularly as the marksman would have to be close. And he could afterwards go out by the small entrance beneath the stage."
"I do not understand."
"It would not be the first time, Parker," said Solar Pons mischievously. "It came to me when I counted sixteen players instead of fifteen. A violin case makes an excellent place of concealment."
"I cannot make head or tail of it," I complained.
"Let us just take things slowly," added Pons as Abrahams helped Hardcastle and Miss Richmond to their feet.
"You may have wondered why I was talking so much about the caseand the dangers of the first night about the theatre, Parker. That was merely part of my design. There is no place like the theatre for gossip and by this simple stratagem I hoped to put them off their guard. Ah, inspector, there you are!"
I was stupefied to see the unprepossessing form of Inspector Jamison, our old acquaintance of Scotland Yard, coming up on to the stage.
"You have the warrants, inspector?"
"Yes, Mr. Pons. I have left them blank as you requested." "What does this mean, Pons?" I said.
"It mean, Parker, that a nasty little drama is drawing to its close."
He kept his eyes fixed on the front of the stage all this time, oblivious of the buzz of conversation about us from the solicitous group which surrounded Hardcastle and Dolly Richmond. I confess I was puzzled at his attitude but I was even more surprised when he turned to me and said casually, "Come, Parker, we will be better placed at the front of the house. You had better come too, Jamison."
"As you wish, Pons. I have men posted in the foyer and at the exits, as you suggested."
I turned to my companion with a dozen queries on my lips but he instantly silenced me with an imperative gesture. He led the way to the front of the stalls, where most of the seats had been evacuated by the rush of people on to the stage in the confusion following the firing of the arrow. Pons' alert manner and the way his piercing eyes darted about indicated that he was very much on the lookout for something.
The orchestra conductor, a handsome-looking man with a flowing mane of white hair emerged from a small door at the side of the stage and engaged in conversation with Hardcastle and Miss Richmond. The other members of the orchestra were slowly filing out now and I could see Abrahams, coming up toward us, together with the business manager Ayres and other members of the theatrical company.
"Music has great charms, Jamison," said Solar Pons irrelevantly, "and as we are told, soothes the savage breast."
"Beg pardon, Mr. Pons?" said the Inspector obtusely.
"For example," said Solar Pons calmly. "There are all types of instruments but some from which it would be difficult to coax a tune."
"I don't follow," said Jamison.
Members of the orchestra were still brushing past.
"A bow is of little use without a violin," said Solar Pons crisply.
He struck suddenly like a snake. A tall, slim man with a white face and a shock of black hair, fell heavily to the ground as Pons arrogantly thrust out his foot. He started up with tremendous speed, his violin case falling to the floor. I moved forward in astonishment but I was too late.
Pons had the fallen man's hair in his hands. The wig came away instantly revealing a soft mass of blonde locks. The woman's voice was harsh and sibilant with hatred.
"Damn you, Mr. Pons!"
As I turned from this astonishing spectacle I saw that the violin case at her feet had fallen open and from it protruded a shining bow made of silvery steel set in velvet among a nest of metal-tipped arrows.
"Here is your man, Jamison," said Solar Pons exultantly. "Or rather woman. It is no use struggling, Miss Stillwood. The drama is over."
Jamison jumped forward and secured the angry actress. Hardcastle fell back against the edge of the stage, his face shocked and ashen.
"Sandra! You don't mean it was you…? All along?"
The woman's face was white with fury as she spat the words out.
"I have hated you for years! And I was sick of your constant affairs. If it had not been for Stanwell edging forward that night in Liverpool we would have been rid of you."
"We?" The voice was that of Inspector Jamison's.
"Of course," said Solar Pons languidly. "Mrs. Hardcastle was not alone in this matter. You had best fill that second warrant in also, Inspector. In the name of Cedric Vernier."