“And the third thing. Pons?”
My companion looked at me quizzically.
“Hatred, subtlety and the atmosphere of a cat playing with a mouse. I saw a woman’s hand at every turn. I was assisted in my deductions almost immediately after our arrival. It had not escaped my attention that Cedric Carstairs was hardly the ideal husband, to borrow another theatrical allusion. His numerous affairs and the scandals concerning his various mistresses were the talk of the town. His attractive wife, Sandra Stillwood, was a fiery, jealous and impetuous woman as one has only to see from the public newspapers.
“I knew she would be the last person to sit down under such treatment. Furthermore, Carstairs was a wealthy man. I already had two good motives for his death; jealousy and greed. I looked for a further ingredient, for I knew that no ordinary skills were involved. Assuming Carstairs’ wife to be the prime mover, then she had to have an accomplice. The secretary was an obvious starting point for my assumption. He was good-looking and had not been with Carstairs all that long. In a brief conversation with Mrs Carstairs I learned that she had herself introduced him to the household.”
“Remarkable, Mr Pons,” Jamison mumbled.
Solar Pons chuckled.
“Elementary, my dear Jamison. So far nothing but logical deduction and simple observation. But I also saw a number of glances pass between Mrs Carstairs and the secretary. Such things are unmistakable to the trained observer. I rapidly came to the conclusion that she and Abrahams were lovers.”
“And you let me go on thinking that Dolly Richmond or her husband might have been responsible,” I grumbled.
“Not at all, Parker,” said Solar Pons sharply. “Those were entirely your own completely unjustified assumptions. You were working altogether on the wrong premises. Oh, there were other suspects enough in the circle surrounding the couple, I give you. But the thing was crystal clear to me almost from the beginning. Method and motive were the things to which I now applied my attention. I was convinced that I had seen Abrahams before and that he was not in the Carstairs’ household under his own name.
“The face seemed familiar and when I returned to London I applied myself to my cuttings volumes. I soon found what I was looking for. though the name beneath the photograph was that of Gordon Venner. He was a somewhat obscure artist and stage designer who had been given a London exhibition some years ago. The photograph in my file showed him with a beautifully modelled maquette and it became obvious that his was the skilled hand responsible for the gruesome little tableaux despatched to my client. And it was he, of course, who put the corrosive on the chandelier cable during the performance of The Hound of the Baskervilles.”
Pons blew out a cloud of blue smoke toward the ceiling and turned to the Inspector.
“All this was. of course, by way of suspicion and not at all conclusive. I had to trap the pair in the act and that required some finesse. In the meantime I telephoned Inspector Jamison, Parker, and he put some inquiries in hand. He found that Venner had disappeared from his London studio some months ago and when I put the dates together I found that his disappearance coincided with the employment of Carstairs’ new secretary.”
“But would not your retention by Carstairs put them on their guard, or at least make them abandon their plan, Pons?” I put in.
“Ordinarily, Parker, but I was relying on two factors. The first was by putting the couple completely off their guard. I gave it out that I expected any danger to come on the opening night. Therefore, as I conjectured, they moved their murder attempt forward to the final dress rehearsal. And secondly, I also made it plain by my conversation and actions that I believed the menace to come from someone outside the family. I had given a great deal of thought to the method of murder and felt that as the warning and the method had always differed they might for the actual attempt again try the bow and arrow.”
“Why was that, Mr Pons?”
“It was silent, swift and sure and they had a ready method by which they could get close to the intended victim, Jamison. I had seen enough of the Carstairs’ at close quarters to realise that Sandra Stillwood and Venner were very much in love with one another and that her hatred, jealousy and greed in equal proportions would be enough to keep her fixed in her murderous course, despite my presence on the scene.”
“But what about the parcels, Pons?” I put in. “They arrived from distant places when Mrs Carstairs was with her husband. And she was in the play with him last night.”
Solar Pons shook his head.
“We shall find nothing difficult about that, Parker. Venner stayed in Surrey on numerous occasions, to take care of Carstairs’ business affairs. All the parcels were posted in London. Nothing simpler than for him to come up to post them; it is only half an hour’s journey by train. As to Mrs Carstairs’ part in the plot, I had noticed from perusal of scripts that she was always off-stage when these murderous incidents occurred. Last night her final appearance was some twenty minutes before her husband’s strangulation on stage. Ample time for her to retire to her dressing room, disguise herself as one of the musicians with the steel bow concealed in the violin case and take her place at the far end of the orchestra, in the shadows. It took some daring but it was quite simple.”
Solar Pons tented his fingers before him.
“I have examined the stage myself and it would have worked like this. There is another small emergency door beneath the stage which leads to the orchestra pit. She would have undoubtedly used this and there is a small space which is in darkness, near the side of the stage, in which she concealed herself. The cello player sat with his back to her and she was also concealed completely from sight by the bulk of that instrument. She had only to take her place five minutes before the final scene with small chance of detection.”
“Remarkable, Mr Pons!” interjected Jamison again.
Solar Pons shook his head.
“It was a fairly routine matter but one which required considerable patience over the past weeks. I had noticed early on that there were fifteen members of the orchestra and I discreetly checked with the theatre authorities to make certain that this was so. Last night, I disguised myself in order to render myself inconspicuous, but even so I was almost taken unawares. Fortunately, I noticed that there were sixteen members of the orchestra and the hiding place of the assassin was revealed.”
“Despite your modesty, it has been a remarkable affair, Pons,” I said. “I assume that after Carstairs’ death and the escape of the murderer, Mrs Carstairs would have inherited.”
“And a discreet marriage would have taken place between herself and Venner in a year or two, Parker.”
“Instead of which, considerable terms of imprisonment await them both,” said Jamison. “Once again I am indebted to you, Mr Pons.”
He got up to go and shook hands with us. We waited until his heavy footsteps had descended the stairs, followed by the slam of the street door.
“What will happen to them, Pons?”
“Mrs Carstairs will be lucky to escape the rope but she is a brilliant and attractive woman, Parker. My guess is that, as Jamison surmises, they will both draw heavy prison sentences.”
“And Carstairs will be free to marry Miss Richmond when her divorce comes through?”
Solar Pons stared at me, his eyes dancing.
“Your romantic instinct is running wild again, Parker. I have warned you of that tendency before. I shall be very much surprised if your prediction comes true.”