“Good heavens, Pons!” I exclaimed. “These things must be worth thousands.”
Solar Pons nodded, his eyes narrowed.
“Many thousands, Parker. These snuff-boxes in the corner are by Faberge, unless I miss my guess. Just take a look at this.”
I glanced at the base of the silver statuette Pons was holding. Apart from the hallmark, something was incised in the surface. It took a moment or two to make it out.
“It looks like a maypole. Pons.”
“Exactly, Parker. The same sign as the inn. And the same title.” “I do not follow, Pons.”
“Tut, Parker. Learn to use your ratiocinative processes. These are the armorial bearings of the Cresswells.”
“But why would they want to put these things in their family vault. Pons?” Solar Pons concealed his rising irritation superbly. “Undoubtedly they did not, Parker. This treasure has been stolen.”
6
There was a long silence between us. broken eventually by the church clock striking eleven. As its echoes died away Solar Pons replaced the statuette in the hamper, together with the gold sovereigns.
“Miss Stuart must know nothing of this for the time being, Parker. At least until we have secured our man.”
I stared at Pons in rising irritation.
“I am sure I do not know what you are talking about. Pons.”
Solar Pons finished re-wrapping the hamper in sacking.
“You shall know a good deal more before you leave this room, my dear fellow. Just hand me down that gazetteer from the shelf behind you.”
I gave him the volume and he studied it, his brows knotted in concentration through the wreaths of tobacco smoke.
“Ah, here we are. Cresswell Manor. The seat of the 1st Baron Cresswell. Well, we do not require all that ancient history. Ah, here we are. Last of the line, Sir Roger Cresswell, Grenadier Guards, killed in heavy fighting during the first months of the last war. Unmarried, therefore no issue. The empty house was burned down in a mystery fire in 1915. That is significant, Parker.”
“I do not see why. Pons.”
“That is because you are not applying your mind properly to the problem. It limits the time factor, do you not see. The mansion did not exist after 1915. Therefore, I have only to look between the turn of the century and the outbreak of war.”
“For what. Pons?”
“For the date of the robbery, Parker.”
Solar Pons had produced his sheet of paper from his pocket and was studying it intently. I recognised it as that taken from the Bible earlier. Pons passed it over to me. Once again I read the baffling set of verses.
And as he went out of the temple, one of his disciples said unto him. Master, see what manner of stones and what buildings are here.
Therefore I said unto the children of Israel, Ye shall eat the blood of no manner of flesh.
An ungodly man diggeth up evil; and in his lips there is as a burning fire.
Yet gleaming grapes shall be left in it, as the shaking of an olive tree, two or three berries in the top of the uppermost bough, four or five in the outmost fruitful branches thereof.
All these were of costly stones, according to the measures of hewed stones.
The fining pit is for silver, and the furnace for gold; but the Lord trieth the hearts.
I shook my head.
“This still means nothing to me, Pons.”
“Simply because you are not using your God-given faculties, Parker. Kindly reach down that same Bible from the shelf there.”
I crossed over to fetch it, Pons opening the heavy volume.
“Just check St Mark, if you would be so good.”
I did as he suggested. I looked up again, conscious of the ironical expression of his eyes.
“Why, Pons, this verse does not match at all.”
“Exactly, Parker. Which is why I directed your attention to that excellent novel, Moonfleet. There the author uses a similar device to indicate hidden valuables. The thing is the simplest of codes.”
I looked at the verses again.
“You mean there is another book with the correct verses?”
Solar Pons shook his head.
“No, no. The non-existent verses merely indicate the word-order. Do not underline the verses there, for I have another use for that paper, but indicate them on a separate sheet. What does that give you?”
I jotted down the words with mounting excitement. I now read:
TEMPLE CHILDREN DIGGETH UP THERE TOP FIVE OUTMOST STONES SILVER GOLD.
“Good, heavens, Pons! I see what you mean. It is a cipher.”
“It was obvious, Parker. No Rector would have written such corrupt textual references. Therefore the material in the Bible had not been written by him. I saw at once that ‘temple’ could refer to the church. When we visited the building earlier today I at once noted the statue of the Darnley children. From there it was child’s play. The message referred to the three top paving stones by the statue, and then the five most outmost from that, which brought us to the vault slab of the Cresswell family.”
“Excellent, Pons.”
“Elementary, my dear Parker. We still have only half the puzzle. It now follows that the gold and silver for which one was invited metaphorically to dig was stolen. It is equally evident that the sinister, bearded man of Miss Stuart’s encounters is searching for this booty. But who left the message in the Bible and why; and whether he is connected with the searcher is another matter. I have my own ideas on that but they must just wait until we have firmer data.”
I gazed at Pons open-mouthed.
“You knew all that before ever we went to the church today. Pons?”
“It was reasonably self-evident, Parker.”
Solar Pons sat drawing on his pipe in the heavy silence which followed. The house was quiet except for the faint creaking of timbers and I was absorbed in my own thoughts. Solar Pons rose at length and looked at the clock.
“A brief nightcap, I think, Parker. Things will be clearer in the morning, when I must devise some method to bring our man to us. In the meantime, if you would be kind enough to help me get these things to my room, the sooner they are under lock and key the better.”
We breakfasted early the following morning, the brilliant sunlight streaming in through the open windows. The country air was increasing my appetite and I ate a hearty meal. Pons was silent as we sat drinking our coffee, his deep-set eyes apparently fixed on the tower of the church through the trees. Our hostess sat watching us intently. Eventually she broke the silence.
“You have come to some conclusions, Mr Pons?”
“I have indeed, Miss Stuart. And I must ask for your full co-operation.”
“Anything you say, Mr Pons.”
Solar Pons smiled thinly.
“It may sound a little peculiar to you, Miss Stuart, but it is, I think, the only way to bring the intruder who is haunting this house out into the open. What is the evening paper for this area? One that would certainly be read by the local inhabitants?”
“Apart from the national evening newspapers, Mr Pons, there is only the Surrey Observer. Their nearest office is in Godalming.”