"To put one or two small inquiries afoot, Parker. This ghost of the Rectory, as Miss Stuart calls him, has created a good deal of terror. Now we must just close the net around him."
7
It was indeed, as Pons had hinted, a busy morning. We drove swiftly to Godalming where Pons spent an hour closeted at the newspaper office. After placing his advertisement he was shown to a small glassed-in office where the bound files of the journal were kept. I left him there to buy one or two items for my comfort, for I did not know how long we were likely to be at Grassington, and when I returned some time later I found him in fine fettle.
He rubbed his thin hands together in satisfaction, his deep-set eyes blazing with excitement.
"There you are, Parker. I was not far wrong in my assessment."
I followed his pointing forefinger to the news item he indicated in the musty volume of 1912 open before him. It was headed: THIEVES STEAL FORTUNE FROM CRESSWELL MANOR. 100,000 POUNDS GOLD AND SILVER TAKEN.
I read the article with increasing interest. It went into great detail and itemized the valuables stolen with considerable exactitude. There was no doubt in my mind as I finished the account that the missing articles were those Pons had recovered from the church vault the previous night.
"Ten years ago, Pons. It does not say who was responsible for the theft."
Solar Pons looked at me mockingly.
"That was too much to hope for, Parker. I have been through the subsequent issues with great care but apart from items on the police inquiries, there is nothing. But then I did not expect it."
His quizzical eyes were turned fully toward me.
"And there would be little on which to stretch my peculiar talents, Parker."
"Perhaps not, Pons, but it would have been helpful, nevertheless."
Solar Pons laughed shortly, folding his sheaf of notes and putting them in his pocket.
"You were ever practical, Parker. But I have a few ideas up my sleeve. We must not forget the sight which caused Miss Stuart's father to drop dead of shock."
I looked at my companion in amazement.
"You think that is connected with these events, Pons?"
"Undoubtedly, Parker. It was what drew my attention to a number of significant factors. But I am hoping that my calls to Inspector Jamison at Scotland Yard and to Brother Bancroft will produce something pertinent."
He glanced up at the clock on the wall opposite.
"You must stay close to the Rectory from five o'clock onward, Parker, if you would be so good."
"Certainly, Pons, if you think it necessary."
"It is vitally important. In fact, I would prefer you to deal with any visitors who may come to look at the books. Of course, our bait may not draw anyone this evening, but it is my experience that rare book collectors seldom miss such an opportunity. They usually descend in droves, sometimes within the hour of an advertisement appearing. I am relying on you, Parker."
"You may count on me, Pons. What will you be doing this afternoon?'
"Well, when I have taken the calls I am expecting I shall be off on a short tour of the district. I have a mind to visit one or two of the gypsy encampments in the neighborhood."
"But you said that gypsies had nothing to do with it, Pons."
"That is perfectly correct. And it is just because gypsies are not connected with the affair that I wish to visit the camps."
I shrugged as Pons got up from the table.
"As you wish, Pons. But the matter still remains dark and impenetrable to me."
Solar Pons put his hand on my shoulder.
"Do not say so, Parker. Just keep your eyes and ears open and I am sure all will become clear before long."
His face became more grave.
"I must urge upon you, Parker, the seriousness of this business. The man who is after this fortune is ruthless and cunning. He will not become dangerous unless thwarted. Whoever calls this evening — whatever your suspicions — I must impress upon you the paramount importance of not giving him any inkling that his purposes are known."
"I understand, Pons. I must just give people the run of the library. But supposing our man takes that piece of paper from the Bible?"
Solar Pons shook his head impatiently.
"As I have already indicated, I am relying on him doing so, Parker. You must remain in the library, of course. And do try to give some intelligent answers about the books. There will undoubtedly be genuine dealers present. The most valuable books are in the locked glass bookcase near the far window. Only the genuine bibliophile will go there. The person who hangs about the shelves near the French windows will either be a cleric; an enthusiastic amateur who is interested in all old books as opposed to first editions; or the man we want. Just leave him alone. We shall know soon enough when that paper has been taken. He can do nothing until after dark, in any event."
"Certainly, Pons."
Solar Pons seemed satisfied and when he had called at the commercial office of the newspaper to thank the lady in charge of the files we left the building and took our taxi back to The Old Rectory. Pons' remarks about Miss Stuart's father had aroused many impressions in my mind; to tell the truth I had quite forgotten this aspect in the excitement of our discovery and with the passing of the hours toward the time when the newspaper advertisement would appear, my apprehension grew.
The roots of the mystery appeared to lie in happenings which had occurred ten or more years ago and the longer I thought about it the more impenetrable did the matter appear. Of course, I knew that the people who had robbed Cresswell Manor had apparently buried their booty in the church, but why the Rev. Stuart should die of shock in his library; or who the bearded man with the scarred thumb might be was beyond my poor capabilities. I tried to apply Pons' methods in my own humble way but soon had to give up.
And how had the coded message appeared in the Rector's Bible in his own study? The more I thought about it the more tangled it became and it was with relief that I saw the lean, spare figure of Pons reappear in the garden after his walk. His carriage was alert and his eyes were sparkling as he came through the French windows into the library. He had earlier taken the two calls from Jamison and Bancroft Pons but had not volunteered any information and I knew better than to ask.
"Well, Parker," he said. "We progress."
"I am glad to hear it, Pons."
My companion sank into one of the wing chairs by the empty fireplace, now filled with a blaze of summer flowers, and stared at me quizzically.
"I think I not only know the reasons why Miss Stuart's bearded man appeared so frequently in this room, but I have his name."
I gazed at Pons open-mouthed.
"This is incredible, Pons."
"Pray do not exaggerate, Parker. Once I had the right direction in which to work it was merely a question of narrowing down."
He tented his thin fingers before him and fixed his gaze over toward the open French windows behind my back. "Your walk has been productive, then?"
"It was not without its rewards, Parker. The exercise was certainly beneficial. Two of the sites were occupied by true Romanies. The third encampment, that in the quarry, was filled with a heterogeneous collection of didecais and travelers. It should serve our purpose well enough."
I glanced at Pons with rising irritation. He read the expression in my eyes and his lips curled in a faint smile.
"Just a few hours more, Parker. My theories are not proven yet."
He glanced over at the clock in the corner.
"And now, Parker, the time is almost six o'clock. Miss Stuart has her instructions. The housekeeper will refer any callers to you and you know my thoughts on the matter."
"Certainly, Pons."