Basil Copper
Solar Pons: The Final Cases
Basil Copper (b. 1924) is a former journalist and newspaper editor and the creator of the Mike Faraday detective thrillers (52 novels between 1966 and 1988). He has also published a number of gothic and macabre novels and story collections, including Not After Nightfall (1967), From Evil’s Pillow (1973), The Great White Space (1974), When Footsteps Echo (1975), And Afterward, The Dark (1977), Here Be Daemons (1978), Voices of Doom and Necropolis (both 1980), The House of the Wolf (1983 and 2003), The Black Death (1991), Whispers in the Night (1999) and Cold Hand on My Shoulder (2002).
#01 REGARDING SHERLOCK HOLMES
#02 THE CHRONICLES OF SOLAR PONS
#03 THE MEMOIRS OF SOLAR PONS
#04 THE CASEBOOK OF SOLAR PONS
#05 THE REMINISCENCES OF SOLAR PONS
#06 THE RETURN OF SOLAR PONS
#07 MR. FAIRLIE’S FINAL JOURNEY!
#08 THE DOSSIER OF SOLAR PONS
#09 THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SOLAR PONS
#10 THE SECRET FILES OF SOLAR PONS
#11 THE UNCOLLECTED CASES OF SOLAR PONS
#12 THE EXPLOITS OF SOLAR PONS
#13 THE RECOLLECTIONS OF SOLAR PONS
#14 SOLAR PONS-THE FINAL CASES
Acknowledgements
Sarob Press (Robert Morgan) would like to thank the following for their kind assistance with this volume:
Basil Copper
Les Edwards
Sara Morgan
Foreword by the Author
It should be noted that the entire canon of my own Solar Pons stories following the series written by the late August Derleth was commissioned and authorised by Arkham House USA back in the mid 1970s but for various reasons were withheld from publication and are only now appearing in their original form after some 30 years in limbo. Over the decades a number of editions with altered and mutilated texts have appeared. The definitive texts of the remainder of my canon can be found in the following:
The Further Adventures of Solar Pons (Academy Chicago, 1987 pbk)
The Dossier of Solar Pons (Academy Chicago. 1987 pbk)
The Exploits of Solar Pons (Fedogan and Bremer, USA, 1993 hbk)
The Recollections of Solar Pons (Fedogan and Bremer, USA. 1995 hbk)
Solar Pons Versus The Devil’s Claw (Sarob Press, Wales, UK, 2004 deluxe & limited edition, both hbk)
The Adventure of the Persecuted Painter in the present volume appeared in The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures, edited by Mike Ashley (Robinson Books, UK 1997 and Carroll and Graf, New York, USA. both pbk)
Basil Copper. 2005.
The Adventure of the Haunted Rectory
1
“A beautiful day, Parker!”
“Indeed, Pons!”
My friend Solar Pons and I were strolling down Regent Street and the sunlight sparkling on the glittering displays in the elegant windows of the shops had prompted my companion’s apposite remark. It was indeed a perfect day in early June and as it was my locum’s turn to take my rounds and evening surgery I had readily agreed to a morning stroll from our lodgings at 7B Praed Street.
“A never-ending source of fascination; the study of mankind in the raw, Parker.”
“Perfectly true, Pons.”
“For example, take that gentleman staggering toward us on the opposite pavement. What do you make of him?”
I frowned across the road toward the source of Pons” interest.
“Strange indeed. Pons.”
“Is it not. Parker. Let us just have a small display of that ratiocinative power you have been cultivating of late.”
“You do me too much honour. Pons.”
I frowned again at the man who was dancing about in such an extraordinary manner. He was a little, peppery, red-faced man in formal clothes and with a silk cravat. He carried a stick and from the opening and closing movements of his mouth, he appeared to be muttering imprecations of some sort. He made savage slashing gestures in the air with his stick and his whole manner was so strange and eccentric that the passers-by on his side of the street were giving him a wide berth.
“Some sort of lunatic, Pons?”
“Perhaps, Parker. Let us rather say a man under stress.”
“That much is obvious, Pons.”
Solar Pons smiled wryly.
“Touché, Parker. The pupil will soon be outstripping the master. But just look more closely. Does not the solution rapidly present itself?”
I looked again at the peppery little man dancing about on the opposite pavement. A dark-coated person had appeared at the doorway of a shop on the far side of the way and appeared to be wringing his hands.
“I give up, Pons. I find it quite impossible to find any logical reason for such goings-on.”
Solar Pons’ eyes twinkled as he stood regarding the small knot of spectators and the little red-faced man.
“It is a fairly common occurrence, Parker. The Duke of Porchester has been having a little altercation with his tailor. There is nothing like sartorial disagreement to provoke anger among certain members of the haut monde, my dear fellow. And when I see such an ill-fitting jacket on an otherwise impeccably groomed gentleman, his rage becomes understandable.”
I gazed at Pons open-mouthed.
“How on earth can you tell all this from a cursory glance across the street. Pons?”
“By using my eyes, Parker, and drawing the correct conclusion from the data so presented to me. It is not so very difficult but one needs to relate the circumstances to their background. I also have the advantage of knowing something of the relationships involved.”
“Relationships, Pons? And how could you know this angry gentleman is the Duke of Porchester?”
“Well, Parker, if you will kindly direct your glance to the adjacent kerb you will see a very palatial vehicle known as an Isotta-Fraschini. The irate gentleman was certainly on his way towards it, for the chauffeur was opening the door for him when the Duke changed his mind.”
“How do you know he is the Duke, Pons?”
“For the simple reason that his coat of arms is emblazoned on the door panel. It is extremely distinctive and unmistakable even at this distance. I have made something of a study of such heraldic emblems and the three griffons and the pomegranate are unique in heraldry. My attention was then directed to the gentleman himself and I recognised him from the recent photographs in the newspapers.”
“Newspapers, Pons?”
Solar Pons smiled benevolently at the red-faced gentleman, who was now dancing angrily halfway between the car and dark-coated man in the doorway.
“There has been some controversy in Savile Row, Parker.”
“I must confess I am all at sea, Pons. What has Savile Row to do with Regent Street? And what is that tailor’s shop doing there, for that matter?”
“Ah, there you have unwittingly hit the crux of the affair, Parker. The Duke is a sharp if eccentric dresser and he had quarrelled with every tailor in Savile Row. The only tailor to suit him was Barker of Barker and Fromset. In the end the Duke persuaded this old and distinguished firm to move their principal premises into Regent Street. From what I gather he has provided the money himself. But it has apparently not taken long for him to fall out with his new partner. Ah, there is Mr Barker extending the olive branch.”