"That is so, Mr. Pons," said Hardcastle.
"There is no tripping you, Pons," I complained bitterly. Solar Pons laughed shortly.
"I am far from infallible, Parker. But we stray from the point."
"I am not a rich man, Mr. Pons," said our visitor anxiously. "1 do not know what your fee would be…"
"Tut, man, let us not quibble about trifles," said Solar Pons impatiently. "You need not worry on that score. If a case interests me, I sometimes remit my fee altogether. And this one promises a maximum of interest. Pray proceed without further delay."
Some of the color was coming back to the young keeper's cheeks. He looked a fine, manly figure in his tight fitting uniform as he sat opposite, twisting his peaked cap shyly in his strong, capable hands.
"They all think I'm guilty, Mr. Pons," he said quietly. "Even my girl, Alice. The only one who believes in me is the Head Keeper and the man in charge of the Lion House, Mr. Hodgson. He has been most helpful. You see, Mr. Pons, almost everyone at the zoo thinks I did all those terrible things like letting Sheba out. Not to mention the damage."
He swallowed nervously. Then, encouraged by Pons' reassuring look, he went on.
"I love the work there, Mr. Pons. I wouldn't do anything to harm the zoo, the animals or the visitors, let alone my colleagues. But they found things in my locker. I don't know exactly what. Someone called the police, you see. I only heard about it in a roundabout way. My girl Alice came around early this morning to warn me. So I cut out. I wandered about all day. Then I remembered what I'd heard about you and decided to ask your help."
Solar Pons shook his head.
"Unwise, Hardcastle," he said gently. "It was the worst thing you could have done. If the police suspect you, as you suggest, and wish to interview you, they will find you soon enough."
There was dismay on the young man's face.
"I am sorry, Mr. Pons. I probably lost my head. I felt trapped, you see."
"I understand the feeling," I said sympathetically. "But Mr. Pons is right. We must go straight to the zoo. We will both support you."
"Hold fast, Parker," said Pons with a light laugh. "I make allowances for your enthusiasm, my dear fellow, but this is my case and I dictate the conditions. I have not even agreed to take it as yet."
"I beg your pardon, Pons," I said apologetically. "I naturally assumed…"
Solar Pons held up his hand, and Hardcastle, who had been rising to his feet, sat back down gently in his chair.
"Do not concern yourselves. I have decided to take the case. Unless I am a worse judge of character than I imagine, Mr. Hardcastle is a transparently honest man. But I have not yet finished my questions."
He got up briskly.
"Now, Hardcastle, cast your mind back. I want to know more about these incidents: what your movements were, and particularly what things were found in your locker."
He glanced at the clock in the corner.
"There is nothing to be gained by a visit to the zoo at this hour of the evening. The premises will be closed and the authorities will not welcome us. There will be time enough tomorrow. But a visit to the police is an entirely different matter. We must make contact with them tonight and have our story ready. Superintendent Heathfield, I think. Scotland Yard is already engaged in the matter."
He turned back to me.
"Now, Parker, I am sorry to turn you out again, but I would be grateful if you would hail a cab. I will finish questioning Hardcastle here en route to the Yard."
3
When I returned to 7B, Pons was already dressed for the street, and our client was wearing a suit of gleaming oilskins, which Mrs. Johnson had hung on a peg in the hall. Pons flung me a glance of approval.
"Hardcastle has just been telling me about the material discovered in his locker. An axe that had been used to smash a kiosk, fragments of wood still on it; some red paint similar to that which daubed a restaurant wall a few weeks ago; duplicate keys to some of the animal houses; and a pair of gloves covered with paint stains."
I stared at Pons somberly.
"It looks bad on the face of it, Pons."
"Does it not, Parker. But there is a factor of great significance."
He smiled reassuringly at Hardcastle's doleful face as we descended the stairs to the lower hall.
"And what is that Pons?"
"There is no key to Hardcastle's locker, and in fact none of the lockers belonging to the staff of the Lion House are ever locked."
"I fail to see the importance, Pons."
"Tut, Parker. Use your ratiocinative processes. If the locker had been secured, things would have looked black. But in such a situation anyone could have placed the material there."
"I see, Pons. Of course."
Solar Pons stroked his ear with a thin finger.
"In fact, assuming Hardcastle's innocence, I have never heard of such a fatuous and clumsy attempt to implicate anyone. But it gives rise to some intriguing possibilities. There is a good deal more here than meets the eye. It is a pity you cannot remember more about the incriminating material in your locker, Hardcastle. I appreciate the fact that you heard most of the details from your young lady, but you should have paid closer attention."
"I am afraid I was too agitated at the time," said our client apologetically.
He led the way down the steps to where the taxi waited, and a few moments later we were lurching through the fog and rain toward our destination. On arrival at Scotland Yard, Solar Pons sent up his card, and we were rapidly shown to a discreet room on the third floor, where Superintendent Stanley Heathfield had his office. He himself rose from his desk as a plainclothes officer showed us in, his eyes gleaming with pleasure.
"You know Dr. Parker, of course," said Solar Pons casually. "This young man is a client of mine. I will introduce him presently."
"As you wish, Mr. Pons."
Superintendent Heathfield waved us into comfortable chairs and went back to sit at his desk. A number of sporting prints in gilt frames were hung on the green walls of his room, and a gas fire burned comfortably in the grate.
"You are working late, Superintendent."
"You know very well this is our usual routine, Mr. Pons. Fencing for information, are you?"
Solar Pons leaned forward in his chair and smiled thinly. "Just sounding out the ground, Superintendent."
"There is a great deal on, Mr. Pons. And I am expecting a visitor. But it must be something of great importance that brings you here on such a foul evening. Perhaps you are stuck on a little problem? Well, we are always happy to assist at the Yard."
Solar Pons smiled again.
"Touché, Superintendent. You are in fine form this evening, I see."
Heathfield's eyes twinkled as he glanced around at us in turn.
"Have some tea, gentlemen. I have just taken the liberty of ordering a tray."
He sat back at his desk and examined his perfectly manicured fingernails as a woman in dark overalls entered and set out the cups and a pot on a corner of the desk. When we were alone again, he was silent as he poured. Hardcastle rose clumsily and passed the cups to us. Heathfield sat back and regarded us with quizzical brown eyes. With his tall figure and clipped, iron-gray moustache, he looked more like a dapper Army officer than ever.
"We have not worked together since that business of Elihu Cook Stanmore, Mr. Pons."
"This is nothing like that, Superintendent. Just a little puzzle connected with London Zoo."
Superintendent Heathfield straightened behind the desk, and his eyes were no longer humorous.
"Little puzzle or no, Mr. Pons, it is certainly no joke. I am having to deploy a great many people in order to catch this madman who is endangering life and limb."