The vigorous figure of Heathfield had returned to the desk, reaching down his overcoat and umbrella from the stand behind it. Behind him stood the uneasy, chastened figure of Sir Clive. Pons turned from the vinegary countenance of the zoo official, and the lid of his right eye dropped slowly. I savored the moment all the way to the zoo.
4
It was almost ten o'clock when we arrived at Regent's Park; yet despite the lateness of the hour, the main entrance to the zoo was a blaze of light. But the police driver, at a sign from Heathfield, obeyed Sir Clive's instructions to drive farther on to the Fellow's Entrance.
"More discreet," said the president, clearing his throat with an irritating little coughing noise. Pons and I waited until he and Heathfield had alighted and then followed. The rain was still driving hard, and I buttoned up my coat collar tightly as we crossed the asphalt. We were within the zoo grounds, as the police car had driven straight in, and the coughing roar of a lion, drifting across the Regent Canal, came to us, mysterious and sinister in the semidarkness.
"I have an office in the administrative building," said Sir Clive fussily. "We had best go there initially. I have kept back the key staff following today's incident, and you will no doubt wish to question them, Mr. Pons."
"With the superintendent's permission," said Solar Pons with a slight bow to the Scotland Yard man.
We followed the president through a metal gate and up a path to a large red-brick building set back amid gracious lawns and flower beds. It obviously fronted onto the Inner Circle because I could hear the faint hum of traffic from a roadway somewhere beyond. The façade of the building was a blaze of light, and the large room into which Sir Clive led us was thronged with chattering groups of officials and attendants in uniform.
A respectful silence fell as we entered, and a thin young man with sandy hair detached himself from a knot of people in soberly dressed clothing and hurried toward us.
"Everything is in readiness, Sir Clive."
"Good. This is my secretary, Conrad Foster. Superintendent Heathfield. Mr. Solar Pons. Dr. Lyndon Parker." The young man nodded pleasantly.
"Welcome, gentlemen. Shall I lead on, sir?"
"By all means. I just have to give some instructions."
The secretary ushered us up a wooden staircase at the side of the building and into Sir Clive's office, a pleasant, simply furnished room, evidently one of a number opening onto a long corridor. There were framed photographs of wild animals on the walls, some obviously taken in Africa, and one group included Sir Clive in tropical uniform watching water buffalo through binoculars.
"Please make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen. Sir Clive will not be long."
As he spoke, the zoo chief's tread sounded along the corridor, and the little man bounced in and took his place behind the desk, the secretary at his right.
"If you will take notes, Foster, I think we will begin shortly."
He looked at Heathfield and Pons with a quick, bird-like inclination of the head.
"With your permission, gentlemen, I will conduct the preliminary inquiry on today's incident, on behalf of the Society. naturally you will be free to ask your own questions at any stage of the proceedings. Similarly, any particular member of the staff you require to be questioned can be brought here at short notice."
He sniffed, a smug expression on his face.
"Though I do not think that will be necessary, as almost everybody who could have the slightest bearing on the matter is waiting down below."
"I see."
Superintendent Heathfield nodded, his eye catching Pons' with a twinkle.
"I cannot speak for Mr. Pons, of course, but that seems perfectly satisfactory to me."
My companion nodded.
"I should like to see the polar bear enclosure and the body of the animal, if it has not yet been removed, despite the lateness of the hour."
Sir Clive shifted in his chair.
"There will be no difficulty, Mr. Pons. We have our own pathology department here where dead animals are dissected, as well as a well-equipped dispensary for the care of our charges."
"Excellent, Sir Clive," said Solar Pons crisply. "I would also particularly like to have a few words with your Head Keeper, Norman Stebbins, before you begin."
Mortimer looked discomfited.
"But he was not concerned in today's incident, Mr. Pons."
"Exactly, Sir Clive. That is why I wish to see him." The president turned a little pink around the ears. "But Mr. Pons, I fail…"
"Tut, tut, Sir Clive," said Solar Pons calmly. "It is surely self-evident. Stebbins is in charge of all your staff, is he not? And he obviously knows a good deal about them. I would like him present throughout even if only to corroborate the other attendants' stories. It is vitally important that we have a reliable check on such matters. It will save a good deal of time and can only act in the interests of my client, Hardcastle. Incidentally, I shall require Hardcastle to be present throughout, just as soon as he arrives."
"Very well, Mr. Pons," said Sir Clive grudgingly. "There is a good deal of common sense in what you say."
"It is good of you to say so," said Solar Pons ironically, evading Superintendent Heathfield's eye. "Now I would suggest we summon Stebbins without more ado."
The Head Keeper proved to be a thickset, muscular man in his early forties with a bright, intelligent face bisected by a heavy brown moustache. He was evidently ill at ease in the presence of the Zoological Society chief but sat down at Pons' request and waited expectantly for the questioning to begin. Sir Clive opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so, my companion cut in smoothly.
"I would just like to ask a few questions, Sir Clive."
"As you wish, Mr. Pons," said the president in a disgruntled voice.
Solar Pons turned to the Head Keeper, tenting his fingers before him.
"That was a first-rate effort at the Lion House, Stebbins. You undoubtedly averted what might have been a major tragedy."
The Head Keeper's face flushed with pleasure.
"It is good of you to say so, Mr. Pons."
Sir Clive cleared his throat.
"The Council has not overlooked the matter, Mr. Pons. A presentation is to be made at a later date."
"I am glad to hear you say so, Sir Clive. A loyal and devoted staff is beyond price in these days of changing values."
Again the annoying throat clearing by Sir Clive.
"Quite so, Mr. Pons."
Solar Pons turned back to Stebbins.
"Let us just hear your opinion of these strange goings-on."
"Well, sir, begging Sir Clive's pardon, there's not much sense to any of it. Trivial, silly things, like monkey cages being opened. Or windows broken and paint being smeared across buildings. Then the person responsible seems to become enraged and do something dangerous, or even murderous."
Solar Pons chuckled.
"Ah, so you have noticed that, have you? I must commend your intelligence. You have no theory to account for it?"
Stebbins shook his head.
"The whole thing is pointless, Mr. Pons, unless a member of the public has a grudge."
"That is what I particularly wanted to ask you, Stebbins. Would access not be difficult for the public?"
An embarrassed look passed across the Head Keeper's face.
"I get your drift, Mr. Pons. I would be loath to suggest that any member of my staff would be responsible. Everyone here loves animals. That goes without saying, or they wouldn't work here."
"Yet dangerous animals have been loosed to kill or maim as they fancy. Is it not so?"