"We shall see," said Solar Pons coldly.
"But what possible motive could he have, Pons?" I asked.
"Jealousy," said Solar Pons across the rising murmur of voices wlthin the room. "Plain, ordinary jealousy. I am sorry to say it, Hardcastle, but Hodgson was jealous of your success with Miss Westover."
"Mr. Pons!"
There was dismay on the young man's face.
"My attention was directed to it quite accidentally. When I asked Hodgson to open his locker, he had a photograph there that fell to the ground. I saw the young lady's face quite clearly when I picked it up. When you introduced me to your fiancée later, I saw quite plainly it was she. A few veiled questions and her obvious confusion soon made me see how the land lay. Hodgson hoped to secure your dismissal and secure the young lady's affections for himself, unless I am very mucn mistaken."
Hardcastle swore and plunged toward Hodgson, but the plainclothes officers were too quick for him and interposed themselves. Handcuffs flashed and the burly keeper was securely pinioned.
"There will be time enough for recriminations later," said Solar Pons mildly. "Am I not right, Hodgson?"
"Yes, sir," said the big keeper sullenly. "I broke into the cages, let the animals loose and did that damage. I put the things in Hardcastle's locker and hoped to make him lose his job. It was my feelings for the young lady that made me do it. I'm sorry now. We'd been out a few times and then she threw me over for Hardcastle. I hoped to get her back. And I'd been out with her a few times since. My pay was better than his, you see, and I had good prospects. But I know nothing about the murder of Mr. Jefferies."
"That remains to be seen," said Superintendent Heathfield calmly.
He turned to my companion.
"I am in your debt, Mr. Pons."
"Think nothing of it, Superintendent," said Solar Pons, a strange look in his eyes. "My reward lies in clearing Hardcastle here from all stigma."
"Take Hodgson away. We will finish questioning him at the Yard."
Heathfield bustled forward and the groups seated around the desk broke up. Sir Clive came forward and pumped Pons by the hand.
"A remarkable performance, my dear sir. I am most grateful."
"It was nothing, Sir Clive."
Pons hastily excused himself, and we strode back down the staircase and into the fog.
"There are one or two points I don't quite understand, Pons."
To my astonishment Solar Pons put his hand over my mouth and drew me into the deep shadow of one of the mammal houses.
"Not a word, Parker. And pray do not be idiotic. The case is far from over. We must secure our man while he is still off balance. Follow me and be careful in this fog."
And before I had time to convey my astonishment and chagrin, my companion was dragging me through the white blanket until my sense of direction was entirely lost.
10
Presently the dark, skeletal bars of an iron gate loomed up in the mist. It was unlocked and Pons pushed it back to enable us to slip through, carefully closing it behind us. He led me unerringly down a flagged path toward the massive structure of- a large mansion from which shaded lights glowed.
"What on earth, Pons? I began. "This is Sir Clive's residence…"
"I am well aware of that, Parker," Solar Pons whispered. "Now, if I am not much mistaken, the study should be here."
He cast about him, looking intently at marks at the edge of the grass. Apparently satisfied, he tiptoed across the lawn toward French windows, which, to judge from the darkness within, denoted an unoccupied room. I had no choice but to accompany him, but I was filled with horror when Pons produced a metal instrument from his pocket and calmly inserted it into the lock.
"You are surely not going to break in, Pons?"
"It is quite illegal, Parker, but the short answer is yes," Pons replied imperturbably. "This is one advantage we have over Scotland Yard, Parker. They do not normally break into citizens' private houses. With the result that some damnable villains are allowed to go free."
"But what do you expect to find, Pons?"
"Nothing, Parker, unless I can deal with this lock. Let us hope there are no bolts, or I shall have to risk smashing a pane."
There was a sudden click as he spoke, and he gave a soft exclamation of satisfaction. One wing of the door was open, and he beckoned me to follow as he eased himself slowly through into the darkness. I followed, shutting the door quietly behind me, and was brought up against thick velvet curtains. Pons cautiously slid them back a few inches, and I could see by the soft glow of a dying log fire that we were within a comfortably furnished study.
"What are we going to do, Pons?"
"Just wait patiently, Parker. Our man will not be long. We may catch him off guard. Unless I miss my guess, he has not yet finished disposing of the evidence. I have no doubt he has already used these windows tonight."
"I am completely lost, Pons. I thought that Hodgson…"
"Hush, Parker."
Solar Pons' strong grip made me wince as he caught my arm. I then heard the crisp sound of footsteps along the flagged walk of the garden outside. A minute or so passed, and the crash of the front door was followed by muffled voices. Pons put his finger to his lips and pulled the curtains back across the alcove in which we were standing.
We had not long to wait. Hardly had we concealed ourselves before there was the grate of a key in the lock of the study door and the room was flooded with light. The golden glow penetrated the curtains, enabling me to see that Pons had his eye fastened to a faint crack through which he surveyed the room. I passed the time with what patience I could muster, though I must confess that the police and the laws of private property were much in my mind.
I joined Pons at his urgent motioning and saw what had attracted his attention. Putting my eye to the gap in the curtains, which Pons held closed with his right hand, I could see the portly form of Sir Clive. He was down on his knees by a large desk, examining the floor. Then he got up and crossed over to a small safe set into the fireplace wall. He took from it a bundle of documents and placed them on the desk. Then he went back into the middle of the room in a listening attitude.
He turned to the fireplace and picked up a poker. He sifted the dying fire and I heard a muffled exclamation. He went over to a scuttle at the side of the hearth, apparently finding it empty.
"We are in luck, Parker," Pons breathed in my ear.
Sir Clive hesitated a moment longer, glanced at the documents on the desk and then picked up the scuttle. He passed out of my line of vision and I heard the sound of the catch as the door was opened. The key sounded again as he locked it from the other side and his footsteps died away.
"Excellent, Parker," Solar Pons chuckled. "There will never be a better opportunity."
He ran across the room without any attempt at concealment and I followed with considerable misgiving. Pons was already down on his hands and knees, examining the floor with his lens.
"He will need a cloth too," he murmured.
"What exactly is happening, Pons?"
"Sir Clive is about to burn these letters. We must just glance at them, for the motive is not yet clear to me."
He picked them up, his face turning grave as he leafed through them. He replaced them on the desk.
"Poor devil."
He stood in thought for a moment.
"Blackmail is one of the vilest of crimes, Parker, and I am not so sure the punishment was not justified in this case. But murder is frowned on by the authorities, and we must not be deflected from our purpose."
And he stood calmly by the mantelpiece, lighting his pipe and staring down at the almost extinguished `fire until footsteps again sounded on the parquet of the hall outside. We were still standing like that when Sir Clive entered, locked the door behind him and advanced toward the fireplace, bearing fresh billets of wood in his scuttle. There was a tremendous clatter as he dropped it, the iron bucket overturning and scattering the wood about the polished floor. He stood before us with a deathly face, guilt staring from every lineament of his features.