He scratched his head.
"The main thing is that we have saved an innocent man from the rope," said Pons. "The rest is for the courts to unravel."
Jamison sighed heavily.
"When clever people go wrong there is the devil to pay," he observed sagely.
Solar Pons passed over Celia Thornton's purse to him.
"You had better take that, Jamison. My methods were a little unfair but we are dealing with a cruel and implacable woman."
I looked at the open door of Pons' bedroom.
"So that was why you were so furtive when I came back," I said somewhat bitterly.
Solar Pons smiled and laid his hand on my arm.
"I am afraid I could not let you into our little secret, my dear fellow. It was imperative to get that confession down on paper through the official police. Your feelings are so honestly transparent that you could not have kept up the masquerade."
He blew a cloud of smoke thoughtfully from his pipe.
"Let us hope it will have taught Mr. Tregorran a much-needed lesson. Between the two of them he was bound to come to destruction sooner or later."
Murder at the Zoo
1
"Good evening, Parker!"
"Good evening, Pons!"
Solar Pons shook the droplets of water from his overcoat and stamped his feet, his lean, feral face wearing a humorous expression. It was a foul, foggy evening in late November, and to make matters worse, the capital was shrouded in a weeping rain that seemed to penetrate to one's very bones with its coldness. I had spent a frustrating day on my rounds of patients and had been very glad to come in at six o'clock and take refuge in our comfortable quarters at 7B Praed Street.
It now turned seven o'clock, and I was pleased to see Pons, for I knew that Mrs. Johnson, our amiable landlady, was delaying our evening meal until his arrival. I had not missed the ironic tone in Pons' voice, with its implied commentary on the day and the subtle reference to the pending meal, and now I vacated my comfortable chair and came forward to help my friend out of his soaked hat and coat.
"Thank you, Parker. As usual, you are a model of thoughtfulness and consideration."
"Good of you to say so, Pons. You won't mind my mentioning it, but you look as though you have just come out of a particularly muddy section of the line on the Ypres Salient."
Solar Pons laughed, drawing close to the fire and watching the steam ascend from the toe-caps of his stout boots.
"You are not so far snort of the truth, Parker. I have been down to Hoxton, ferreting about on the site of a new housing estate. The swindles of Jabez Wilson are about to be put to an end. The mud and debris on the site was somewhat reminiscent of the late war, I must say. If you will just give me a few minutes to change my suit and clean up a little, Mrs. Johnson may serve as soon as she likes."
"Excellent, Pons."
I went down to acquaint Mrs. Johnson with the gist of
Pons' message and when I returned, my companion was restored to his immaculate self. He sat in his favorite armchair, his lean fingers tented before him, and he stared reflectively at the dancing firelight in the grate.
"Might there be some notes for me in this business, Pons?" I asked.
My companion smiled.
"I fear not, Parker. It is too mundane for your chronicles, and though The Adventure of the Hoxton Builder' might raise considerable expectation in the reader, I fear it would fall far short of your best efforts in the field — though Scotland Yard will be glad to learn that Mr. Wilson is in the net."
We were interrupted at that moment by the entry of our landlady, who held a large tray containing a wide assortment of steaming dish covers, from which came a variety of enticing aromas. We did full justice to our supper and by the time we had pushed back our plates and poured the coffee, I was beginning to take a more sanguine view of the world.
Solar Pons, his empty pipe in his mouth, was absorbed in the evening paper, and there was an agreeable silence between us for half an hour. Eventually he threw down the newspaper with an exclamation of disgust.
"This zoo business is intriguing, Parker, but the press has gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick."
"I have not seen it, Pons."
"The item is there, my dear fellow. It has been running for some weeks. I am convinced there is more to it than meets the eye. But you know the penchant the yellow press has for distortion and sensationalism."
"Come, Pons," I said, laughing. "You will be guilty-of the very same fault of which you accuse your clients. I do not know the first thing about the matter."
Solar Pons smiled thinly and stroked his chin in a manner that had long become familiar to me.
"I apologize unreservedly, Parker. I always keep abreast of the criminal news, and I must confess I sometimes forget that others do not always share my somewhat esoteric interests. You will find most of the salient features in this evening's journal, though pathetically colored."
There was indeed a huge heading, I saw, as I picked up the newspaper that Pons had laid down. The article was blazoned: GROTESQUE MYSTERY AT ZOO! IS 'THERE A PHANTOM AT WORK?
I read it with increasing interest. The gist of it was as follows: It appeared that a mysterious nighttime intruder at the Zoological Gardens at Regent's Park had been leaving a trail of havoc behind him. The events had begun in October, when a nocturnal prowler had opened monkey cages, and chimpanzees and monkeys had run riot throughout the night. An incident the following week was more serious, when a Bengal tigress had been loosed from the Lion House.
"What might have been tragedy for the keepers when they first came on duty in the early morning was narrowly averted when the Head Keeper, Norman Stebbins, an exceptionally strong man, came to the aid of his colleague. He held the main doors by sheer strength until help was summoned. The beast was eventually netted and recaptured."
"A fine effort, Pons," I commented about Stebbins' feat. "Putting his arm through in place of the door bar like that."
"Indeed, Parker. Another case of nature imitating art."
"I do not follow, Pons."
"Mr. Stebbins would appear to have followed the example set by Kate Barlass, Parker."
My companion laughed at the blank incomprehension on my face.
"No matter, Parker. Pray continue."
I read on with mounting bewilderment. The events certainly seemed weird and disconnected. Other animals had been let loose, including ostriches and, in one case, a rhinoceros. Damage to property and danger to life had been the principal features here, though only one man, an underkeeper named Billings, had been slightly injured.
"The people at the zoo have been extremely lucky, Pons," I commented, folding the paper.
"Have they not, Parker. What do you make of it?"
"I have not yet finished the item, Pons, but there seems little point in any of it, unless some member of the public has a grudge against the zoo authorities."
"That is a possibility we must not overlook."
I looked at my companion sharply.
"You talk as though you expect to be retained in the matter, Pons."
"I must confess I am inordinately interested."
I read on in silence for another minute or so.
"This business of the spiders in the tropical house, Pons, is loathsome in the extreme. The Head Keeper had another narrow escape there."
"Did he not?"
"It is bizarre and inexplicable, Pons. I see that there is no evidence that any of the entrances or gates to the Zoological Gardens have been tampered with — though the person who entered the Tropical House broke a glass door in order to do so, before letting those dreadful creatures escape. And locks on cages were smashed."