Fortunately, quite close to the windows there was a rose trellis or pergola set at right angles to the house and we were able to conceal ourselves behind that. I eased forward with Pons and was able to see a small corner of what appeared to be a billiard-room for there were green-shaded lamps and a rack of cues screwed to the far wall.
Smoke hung slightly quivering near the window curtains so it was evident that a man was standing close by, perhaps watching a game, for I could hear the soft click of ivory as someone played a shot. I was as still as death, however, as Pons’ rigid pose and extreme concentration communicated the urgency and deadly seriousness of our presence there that evening.
He pulled back slightly after a minute or so and glanced upward at the black facade of the house above our heads. A solitary light gleamed through the darkness of the upper storeys at this side of the mansion. Pons’ eyes were gleaming and I had seldom seen such dynamic energy as animated his frame at that moment. I could now hear someone speaking from within the room with the French windows and a shadow suddenly imprinted itself upon the tiles. I started back into deeper shadow to find that Pons had done the same.
The voice was a little clearer. The language was a foreign one, vaguely Spanish but with a strange accent. Pons gave a slight smile of satisfaction as he caught my eye. Other voices joined in and a small red dot hung in the air beyond the foliage. As I focused my eyes it became discernible as the end of a lighted cigar held by a man in dark clothing. He was standing just at the entrance to the terrace, taking in the night air and looking out across the garden. He turned to go back in and as he did so he presented a brief view of a most remarkable face.
It was swarthy and dark; certainly Spanish-looking with fine, intelligent eyes. The hair was jet-black but curiously there was a band of pure white which ran from the temple straight across the middle of the hairline to the back. He could not have been more than about thirty-five though, for the complexion was pale and smooth, quite free of wrinkles. A long, drooping black moustache could not conceal the cruelty of the thin, red-lipped mouth which parted to take in the cigar butt, revealing strong irregular yellow teeth.
But it was the vivid diagonal scar which puckered from the right-hand side of the mouth almost to the right eye-socket which gave this extraordinary visage its shocking ferocity. The effect on Pons was electric. As this vision disappeared within the room with a strange gliding motion he expelled his breath with an almost audible sound in the stillness of the garden.
“Excellent, Parker! Let us hope that the Ambassador is remaining for it will certainly take another hour before we can hope for assistance to arrive.”
We had withdrawn some way down the terrace and Pons had spoken in a whisper but I still felt exposed and naked upon the tiling in the moonlight, particularly since the appearance of that dreadful, merciless face.
“What do you want me to do, Pons?” I asked.
“Go back to that hotel we passed, taking every possible precaution to avoid being seen. As I have already indicated I want you to ring Bancroft and tell him where we are. He will do everything necessary as we have already discussed the matter.”
“What will you be doing?”
“I shall remain here and keep the house under observation. Kindly rejoin me near this spot if you will be so good.”
“Very well, Pons. You will not wish me to use the car, of course?”
“By no means, my dear fellow. We cannot risk it. But it is only a short step and should not take you more than twenty minutes in all. Here is Bancroft’s special number. He is available day and night in case of emergency and Jamison already has men available.”
“I shall be as quick as I can, Pons.”
I took the white envelope from Pons and put it in my pocket, quitting the terrace with a beating heart and looking about me at every tree in the moonlight as though it concealed a silent watcher.
I regained the lane without incident. Nothing moved in all that wide expanse of moonlight but nevertheless I obeyed Pons’ injunction and observed extreme caution while working my way past the dark and apparently deserted lodge. Once away from the house I made good time. The Morris looked innocent and unobtrusive at the side of the road and it was obvious that no-one had passed that way since we had left the vehicle.
In a very short while I crossed the main road, found a public phone box on the forecourt of the hotel and got through to Bancroft Pons. He was not given to verbosity and merely listened in silence as I gave him his brother’s message.
“Thank you, Dr. Parker,” he said crisply and there was a click as the receiver went back.
I thought he might at least have added that the police would be along shortly but Pons had emphasised that his brother would know what to do; in any event, I consoled myself, I had done my duty. I retraced my steps without incident and was able to rejoin Pons, who had moved farther down the terrace, in something like eighteen minutes.
“Well done, Parker. You may rest assured that assistance will be here in under the hour.”
“What are we to do now, Pons? I confess I am still in the dark in more ways than one.”
“Your patience has been exemplary, Parker. But I fancy I will not have to impose upon it much longer. Our first objective is to get to that room yonder. Then we may await the course of events with some equanimity.”
I looked at the facade of the great house in the moonlight with distaste.
“Possibly, Pons. But how are we to achieve your objective without rousing the household?”
“I think I have found a way. While you were telephoning I discovered another French window a little farther down, which is unlocked. It is apparently a dining-room which would no doubt have been in use earlier this evening. The occupants quitted it for the billiard-room and it is equally obvious that it is as yet too early for the servants to have locked up for the night.”
“We are in luck then, Pons.”
“Let us hope so, Parker.”
My companion was already leading the way back across the tiling and I was glad to get out of the moonlight and into the shadow of the facade. My revolver made a comforting bulge against my chest as I followed Pons. He softly eased back the big French door and I followed him into the dim interior which smelled of cigar-smoke and the stale odour of wine. We stood for a moment to get our bearings and slowly the shapes of chairs and a long pine dining table resolved themselves.
A sharp line of light in the far distance indicated the bottom of a door.
“With a little luck that should be the hall, Parker,” Pons whispered. “If we can reach the main staircase I think I have memorised the position of that room correctly and can locate it without much difficulty.”
“What then, Pons?”
“Ah, that is in the lap of the gods, my dear fellow. But I fancy we shall have need of your revolver.”
We were up closer to the light from the door now and Pons consulted his watch.
“I think we will give it another twelve minutes or so before making our move. The house seems quiet and it would be a pity to disturb the occupants while Jamison is so far off. But we may need half an hour to achieve our objective.”
“As you say, Pons.”
I moved over, found a comfortable padded chair near the sideboard and sank down gratefully. Pons’ thin, austere figure was poised near the door and he remained unblinkingly in this position as the minutes dragged wearily by. I must confess I felt more perturbed than my sober demeanour indicated, and my thoughts were confused and chaotic as the time passed with interminable slowness.
I had only the vaguest idea why Pons had followed the Paragonian Ambassador to this outlandish spot though no doubt it had something to do with the machinations of Hugo Foy and the politics of that unhappy country. But I knew Pons well enough to know that he would enlighten me only when all the facts in his theoretical edifice had fallen into place to prove or disprove his theories.