"That is correct, sir," the attendant volunteered. "Can't understand it. Boris is as gentle as a lamb"
"Indeed," said Solar Pons, looking thoughtfully at the great beast, whose eyes stared so soulfully into our own.
"It is a pity he cannot talk, Parker. There is certainly great intelligence there. I could almost swear that he is as puzzled as yourself as to how a corpse came into his cage."
Solar Pons gazed at the attendant from the Gorilla House for a long moment.
"Why did you call out 'Murder', just now?"
The man looked startled.
"The person in the cage was obviously dead, sir. His neck's all twisted. I said the first thing that came into my head. And I wanted to get help urgently."
"I see. But why could it not have been an accident?" The man shook his head stubbornly.
"Not an accident, sir. No-one in his senses would go into that cage."
"So you do not think the gorilla killed him?"
"No, sir. I've been in charge of Boris for fifteen years. He's gentle and even tempered and there are several of us can go into his cage without any trouble."
"That is interesting:"
Solar Pons turned back to the bars as the keeper approached the door. We stood clear as he slid back the bolt and spoke to the gorilla in a low, crooning tone. The great shambling form backed away. The attendant bent gently and seized the figure of the fallen man by the foot nearest the door. He dragged the body slowly toward us. I bent to aid him. With the help of a police constable we pulled the body out and the attendant shut the door.
I bent and turned over the figure in the frock-coat. I could not resist a gasp of surprise. We all stood staring down at the dead face of Gordon Jefferies, while a sudden clamour of animal noise, savage and muted, swept across the park from outside. Solar Pons looked at Superintendent Heathfield sombrely.
"An expert on gorillas, I believe. Murder it is."
9
Sir Clive's face was ashen and distorted with anger. "This is appalling, Superintendent. I demand that the culprit be brought to book immediately."
"We are doing our best, Sir Clive."
"It is not good enough, Superintendent. Really, Mr Pons."
Solar Pons paused in the act of lighting his pipe, the ruddy glow from the bowl stippling his lean, ascetic face with little points of fire. He smiled disarmingly.
"Do not let me interrupt you, Sir Clive. But it is difficult to see what the London Police could have done to prevent this. It was carefully planned."
"Eigh?"
Sir Clive's eyes were round and he looked at my companion suspiciously. We were sitting in Sir Clive's office and round the desk, in addition to Stebbins, the Head Keeper, were our client, Hardcastle; Hodgson; the secretary, Conrad Foster; and several other senior keepers. In the background were two grave-faced, soberly dressed gentlemen, fellow members of Sir Clive's on the Council of the Zoological Society; and several high-ranking plain-clothes men of the C.I.D. who were sitting in on the conference.
It was nine o'clock in the evening and despite the refreshment we had taken in the Fellows' Restaurant I was feeling tired and hungry. Oily fog swirled at the windows of the large office and the air was blue with stale tobacco smoke. The inquiry had gone on for nearly two hours but so far as I could see the protagonists were no nearer coming to any conclusions regarding the murder of Gordon Jefferies.
Except Pons, of course. He had listened quietly to the argument and had so far not ventured an opinion. Now he drew steadily on his pipe, until it was burning to his satisfaction and tented his long, thin fingers together in front of him.
"Would you mind explaining, Mr Pons?"
Sir Clive's eyes were full of curiosity.
"In due course, sir. I say it was carefully planned. The murderer cunningly took advantage of fortuitous circumstances. One might say that the occasion was tailor-made. And the popular press reports of a Phantom in the Zoo could not have suited him better."
There was an ugly silence and I could see the uniformed attendants looking uneasily at one another.
"I do not follow you, Mr Pons."
It was Superintendent Heathfield on this occasion. Solar Pons shrugged his thin shoulders.
"I hope to name the murderer for you before the evening is out, Superintendent. It is only a question of time."
"Pons!" I exclaimed. "You do not mean to say you know his name?"
"I have strong suspicions, Parker. It is one thing to theorise; another to prove beyond a conclusive doubt."
There was an air of electric tension in the room now. Sir Clive shifted uncomfortably in his chair and sought support from his Council colleagues in the back row. Before he could speak again Solar Pons sat up in his chair next to Sir Clive's desk and nodded affably over toward Hardcastle.
"Perhaps you would care to tell Sir Clive and the assembled company exactly how you broke into the cages and wrought your trail of mischief?"
Hardcastle was on his feet, his face working.
"I am innocent, Mr Pons," he stammered.
"Tut," said Solar Pons calmly. "Pray sit down. We do not need such exhibitions. I was referring to friend Hodgson there behind you."
I stared in amazement at the burly figure of the Keeper of the Lion House, who seemed visibly to crumble. He started up, guilt evident upon his face.
"I do not know what you are talking about, Mr Pons!"
"I think you do, Hodgson. Red paint is very difficult to remove from the finger-nails. I noticed specks of it beneath your nails when I spoke to you at the Lion-House this afternoon. I made it my business to inquire of the zoo staff. No red paint has been used on the animal cages lately. Except for the vandal who daubed the mammal houses. And placed the materials in the locker of Hardcastle here."
Superintendent Heathfield was on his feet, his face stern.
"Is this true, Hodgson?"
The big keeper had collapsed now; he sat with his head in his hands. Then he raised an ashen face to stare at Pons.
"I admit it, Mr Pons," he said. "But murder, no." "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 within 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 which 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 much mistaken."
Hardcastle swore and plunged toward Hodgson but he plain-clothes 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," aid 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 lose rim 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 had good prospects. But I know nothing about the murder of Mr Jefferies."
"That remains to be seen," said Superintendent Heathfield calmly.