“By accident, I assure you.”
“I believe you, Mr Mulvane,” said Pons gravely. “But we digress. I must ask you to recall the events of that fatal evening as precisely and in as much detail as you can remember.” “Certainly, Mr Pons. I am not likely to forget it.”
Pons prodded briskly at the bowl of his pipe and tapped out the dottle on the fire-irons. He leaned back in his chair and stuffed more tobacco into the bowl, his alert eyes never leaving Mulvane’s face.
“It was a bitterly cold day, like this evening, Mr Pons. Indeed, as you know, the weather has been bleak for the past few weeks. Our comer of Bucks was no exception and it was so inclement when I left the College in the late afternoon that I determined to forgo my planned visit to my local inn, The Three Cardinals. It was my intention to enjoy a good, hot dinner at the Manor, and then retire to the study with a book and a glass of Whisky in front of a roaring fire.”
“Nothing better,” I asserted stoutly.
Solar Pons shot me an amused glance and then again focused on the worried face of his client.
“But something happened to break the pattern?”
“Unfortunately, yes, Mr Pons. I enjoyed the dinner, it is true, but events conspired to cheat me of the treat I had looked forward to all day. My uncle had been acting in a peculiar manner for several days, but that was something I had been getting used to over the past months. I had gone up to my room to fetch a book and was on my way to the study when the butler told me that Mr Hardcastle wished to speak to me in his office.” “That was what time, Mr Mulvane?”
“About a quarter to nine, Mr Pons. We had dined at seven, a little earlier than usual.”
Pons frowned, turning over his pipe in his hands.
“You mentioned Mr Hardcastle’s office?”
“Yes, Mr Pons. It was an old, wainscoted room on the ground floor. It was literally an office, for Mr Hardcastle had converted it to that use and all the affairs if the estate were carried on from there.”
I see.
“Well, I went in to see my uncle, Mr Pons, and he was in a curious mood. I had been out in the evenings several times earlier that week and I had gained the impression that somehow he knew I had seen him about the grounds at night. Anyway, he made some excuses for my getting out some estate figures that evening and gave me a sheaf of papers to deal with, asking me to let them have them the following morning. He was restrained in manner, but seemed to be in an evil temper, so I did not argue with him. I sensed however, that the documents were the merest subterfuge.”
“In what way, Mr Mulvane?”
“Why, to keep me within the walls of the Manor that evening, Mr Pons. So being, as I said, still young and rather stubborn, I resolved to keep watch upon my uncle. I had no sooner got back to the study than I realised that the papers he had given me were of the most trivial nature. Now, you will see the lay-out when you get to the Manor, Mr Pons, but you must realise that to get from my uncle’s office to the front door of the house one must pass the study door. I made a few pencilled notations on a separate sheet of paper so that I should have the required details ready for my uncle the following morning and then went over and left the study door ajar.”
“You thought your uncle intended to go out and did not wish you to know he had left the house?”
“Exactly, Mr Pons. I could hear him moving about in his office from time to time until about ten, so I knew where he was. However, I sat in my wing chair, near the fire, half-turned away from the door. It had been quiet for some time when, a short while later, I became aware of a very unpleasant sensation.”
“In what sense, Mr Mulvane?”
“As though I were being watched, Mr Pons. I could not quite make it out, for the room was shadowy, but I fancied there was someone or something watching me from round the edge of the slightly-opened room door leading to the hall. It is difficult to convey here tonight, Mr Pons, but it was extremely unnerving.”
“Indeed,” I put in.
“However, there was a small oval mirror hanging to one side of the fireplace in front of me, and by slightly turning my head in the chair, as though I were intently studying my papers, I could make out the general area of the door. There was a white blob about halfway up the door-frame and I presently recognised the head of my uncle. He was intently studying me as I sat there in the quiet of the firelight and there was an expression of intense cunning and ferocity on his features that made me feel quite faint.”
“Great heavens!” I exclaimed.
“You may well say so, Dr Parker,” our visitor observed earnestly. “I closed my eyes for a second or two and when I reopened them my uncle had gone. A few seconds later I heard a door close somewhere in the house. I knew my uncle had not gone to the front door because he would have needed to unbolt it and that would have made a considerable noise.”
Solar Pons had an extremely intent expression on his face now.
“You were convinced your uncle wanted to go out of the house without you knowing, Mr Mulvane?”
“Exactly, Mr Pons. There was a way he could do it without anyone being aware of it. The servants had retired to bed as they keep early hours, having to be up betimes in the morning, though the butler and sometimes the house-keeper stay up late. There were two other doors my uncle could easily have used; one at the rear of the house, opening on to the formal gardens; the other was a small door in the servants’ quarters which leads to the side.”
Mulvane took a small sip at his glass and stared at my companion sombrely.
“I was absolutely convinced he had given me those papers for a specific purpose and that he wanted to personally make sure I was in the study engaged on the task he had set me, before leaving the house for some obscure reason of his own. So I waited for a reasonable interval and then decided to follow.” “You thought Mr Hardcastle had some appointment near the family graveyard and that his rendezvous was so urgent as to make him ignore the threats to his life?”
Mulvane pursed his lips.
“I did, Mr Pons. In the event I was proved right.”
“Pray be very precise as to detail now, Mr Mulvane.”
“Very well, Mr Pons. I did not attempt to follow my uncle immediately, for I was certain I knew in what general direction he was going.”
“Excuse me, Mr Mulvane,” Pons interrupted, “there is a curious gap in your narrative so far.”
The teacher looked puzzled.
“What might that be, Mr Pons?”
“You have not yet said why you did not attempt to follow up your suspicions regarding this mysterious whistler in the night. You did nor visit the cemetery, for example, or question the servants?”
Mulvane shook his head emphatically.
“There was a very good reason for the latter, Mr Pons. I had no wish that my uncle should know of my suspicions regarding his nocturnal wanderings. Not that I had any precise suspicions. If I had questioned the servants the matter would have inevitably have come to his ears.”
“Fairly answered, Mr Mulvane. But you have not yet answered my other two.”
“As to that, Mr Pons, my reasons are rather intangible, I am afraid. As I have already indicated, I am a shy and retiring man. I was considerably shaken and somewhat frightened the night I heard that whistling. Nothing would have induced me to go within the graveyard alone at night. It is a grim and forbidding place, as you will see in due course. If I had gone there during the day it is so relatively close to the house that someone on the outside staff or even the indoor servants would have seen me and sooner or later the fact would have been reported to my uncle. I resolved to keep watch and try to solve the problems in my own way.”
“Again, fairly said, Mr Mulvane. Why then, should you set out at such a late hour of night, alone and in the direction of that cemetery, a place you normally shunned?”