Sir Clive waved us to chairs near the fire, where a silver-plated coffee pot and cups were set out.
"But he is a brilliant person, nevertheless," he continued. "And has made some original contributions to biology. A specialist in the habits of the gorilla."
"Indeed," said Solar Pons again. "I hope he finds their company a little more congenial. He certainly seemed to look with disfavor upon Parker and myself."
Superintendent Heathfield smiled.
"You have not yet heard his fulminations upon the ineptitude of the official police, Mr. Pons."
Solar Pons returned his smile.
"That would have been worth hearing, eh, Parker? Come, Stebbins. Have a cup of coffee and sit down yonder. Sir Clive will not eat you."
"Thank you, Mr. Pons. You are very kind."
The Head Keeper sat down gingerly on a straight-backed chair opposite, though it was evident by the frosty expression on Sir Clive's face that he did not approve of this breach of social etiquette.
When we all had a cup in our hands, Sir Clive pulled around his armchair to favor the fire and said fussily, "We must plan our campaign, Mr. Pons."
"By all means, Sir Clive. I have already traveled far in my conclusions."
Sir Clive raised his eyebrows and blew his cheeks in and out once or twice.
"May we be favored with them, Mr. Pons?"
Solar Pons pulled reflectively at the lobe of his left ear.
"It is a little too early for the present. I would like to hear your own views on the person — or persons — who have been carrying out these outrages at the zoo. Shorn of all emotional bias, of course."
Sir Clive looked sourly at my companion and then around at the faces of Superintendent Heathfield and Stebbins. He shuffled a bundle of papers he held in his hands.
"These are my conclusions, Mr. Pons. The depositions of the staff members concerned in this weird business. Plus my reasoned notes on the matter."
Solar Pons smiled bleakly.
"Save them for the Council and the Society's official journals, Sir Clive. It would take us all day to go through those. Pray be more selective."
Sir Clive's face turned purple and Heathfield had a sudden choking attack, which he cured by an instant draught of coffee. Sir Clive drew his lips into a thin line and glared at me instead.
"Very well, Mr. Pons. A disgruntled former employee of the zoo, perhaps. We have had occasion to discharge three within the past two years."
Solar Pons looked interrogatively at the military figure of the superintendent.
"It is a possibility, Sir Clive," he said reluctantly. "Let us hear what the superintendent has to say."
Heathfield shook his head.
"We have already checked, Mr. Pons. One man has gone abroad; the other two live far out of London."
"They have been questioned?"
"Oh, yes. There is no doubt that they are in the clear."
Solar Pons' piercing eyes rested briefly on Stebbins.
"All the same I should like to have Mr. Stebbins' opinion."
The burly Head Keeper shook his head.
"This business has nothing to do with them, Mr. Pons, they swear. They haven't the character for a business like this. A hasty mind is behind this, Mr. Pons."
"I am inclined to agree with you, Stebbins," said Solar Pons languidly. "What do you think of young Hardcastle, now?"
The Head Keeper shook his head again, more doggedly than before.
"I can't believe it, Mr. Pons. The zoo has never had a more loyal employee among the uniformed staff."
"You make a distinction, then?"
Stebbins looked sharply at Pons.
"I speak as I find, sir. The uniformed staff comes under my jurisdiction. I have no knowledge of the scientific, clerical and other personnel. Even if I had, it would not be my place to criticize."
Sir Clive had little pink spots on his cheeks.
"Well said, Stebbins," said Solar Pons warmly. "I am sure I shall find your advice invaluable."
He looked at his watch.
"If you have no objection, Sir Clive, I would like to see the rest of the cages and houses where the other incidents took place. Then a little lunch would not come amiss."
"Certainly, Mr. Pons. There is an excellent restaurant on the zoo grounds. You would be welcome to partake of my hospitality here. Or the Fellows' Restaurant could be put at your disposal."
"It is too good of you, Sir Clive," said Solar Pons, rising to his feet. "Bat we have already caused considerable disruption in your routine. If Parker has no objection, I would prefer to have lunch at the public restaurant at a time that suits. Will you join us, Superintendent?"
"Certainly, Mr. Pons."
"That is settled, then. Shall we say half-past one? Come, Parker."
And Solar Pons led the way out of the room so swiftly that I was hard put to keep up with him.
7
"Ah, there you are, Hardcastle!"
The shadows had lifted from our client's face, and now he hurried toward us down the length of the Lion House, a slim, fair-haired girl at his heels. It was late afternoon and after an excellent lunch, Pons and I had spent an hour with Heathfield, touring the houses where the other incidents had taken place.
"Allow me to introduce my fiancée, Miss Alice Westover, Mr. Pons."
"Delighted, Miss Westover."
Pons glanced at the girl, and then his gaze rested briefly on the knots of thickly clad people who had gathered in the warmth of the Lion House to see the animals.
"You have a fair crowd for such a day, I see."
"Average, Mr. Pons. The big cats attract the public at almost any time of the year."
"So I should imagine."
Pons looked the girl in the eye.
"What do you think of all this, Miss Westover?"
The girl moved protectively toward the young keeper and linked her arm through his.
"He is certainly innocent, Mr. Pons," she said stoutly.
Solar Pons looked at her reflectively, noting the smart, tailored suit and the chic hat with its gaily colored feathers.
"You are most loyal, Miss Westover. But in any event I do not think there is much doubt of your fiancé's innocence."
"I am glad to hear it from your own lips, Mr. Pons," the girl said gravely.
We had moved unconsciously down the great hall, where the restless denizens continued their tireless pacing, and Pons stared rather pointedly at the girl, I thought. Though Hardcastle was oblivious to my companion's scrutiny, it was not lost upon his companion, who had little points of fire dancing on her cheeks.
"Have you heard anything, Mr. Pons?"
"We progress, Hardcastle, we progress."
"I cannot rest, Mr. Pons, until this stigma is removed from my good name."
"Have patience, Hardcastle. We shall soon be at the root of the matter."
Pons looked up sharply.
"Ah, there is Hodgson. I think he wants you, Hardcastle."
The girl bit her lip and flushed as Hardcastle hurried down the Lion House to where the burly figure of the senior keeper stood. From what I could make out, they seemed to be arguing about something.
"Your fiancé and Hodgson do not get on very well, I think," said Solar Pons shrewdly, his deep-set eyes studying the girl's face.
"I really do not know, Mr. Pons."
"Do you not, Miss Westover?"
I moved away a little awkwardly and stood back a few feet, almost out of earshot, until Pons motioned me across.
"There is nothing private about this, Parker. I wish you to hear."
"As you please, Pons. Though I must confess I am all at sea."
"Nevertheless, Parker, I would prefer you to stay. We may talk unobserved in this corner. Jealousy is a dreadful thing, Miss Westover. It may provoke all sorts of unexpected events. Including violence born of frustrated rage."