August Derleth - The Solar Pons Omnibus Volume 1

by August Derleth

Mrs. Thornton was plainly the most genteel of ladies. She was dressed in a white dress, with a few frills, and wore a velvet band about her neck to support a cameo. Her eyes were bird-like, and her appearance elfin. Pons and I were introduced to her as friends of Miss Manahan's, and the old lady seemed quite pleased to meet someone new.

  For a little while Pons talked generalities in his most garrulous vein. Both Miss Manahan and Mrs. Thornton easily fell into his mood, and it was with something of a grave change in manner that Pons introduced the subject of the late Mr. Thornton.

  "I understand you have lost your husband, Mrs. Thornton?"

  She seemed somewhat startled, but responded readily enough. "Yes, that was eight years ago —no, nine it is now, I think. It was sudden."

  "Quite a shock to you?"

  "Yes, a severe shock." She smiled. "It took me some time to get over it. I am afraid we poor women are not as strong mentally as we are physically."

  It was Miss Manahan who next undertook to change the subject, by making mention of her patient's sister-in-law.

  "I am afraid Miss Lavinia is not very kind," said Mrs. Thornton hesitantly. "If she could only know Wellman and Pauline as I know them."

  "They are very kind to you, Mrs. Thornton?"

  "If it had not been for them, I would still be—I would still be in the asylum." She said this bravely, though with obvious effort. "When it seemed that I was improving in my condition, Wellman was notified, and he would not rest until he had secured my release. He had my authority to build this little house for me, and we are all living here very cosily together. I do not know where I should be without Wellman; he has always managed my affairs, and it is distressing that my sister-in-law should say the things she does." She looked toward the window suddenly and, with an expression of dismay, cried out, "Oh, it is becoming foggy!"

  "We'll draw the curtains, never mind, Mrs. Thornton," said Miss Manahan reassuringly. Then she turned to Pons and asked casually whether he would like to see the house before Mrs. Thornton retired.

  "If Mrs. Thornton would not mind."

  "By no means, Mr. Pons. I am quite proud of it. I worked on every detail of it with Wellman when it was under construction, and it is almost like my own creation! Do go, too, Dr. Parker; I can keep quite well by myself for so short a time!"

  Thus urged, I followed Pons, whose interest, of course, was Mrs. Thornton's bedroom, the spacious chamber in the rounded corner of the house. This was, as Miss Manahan had said, a singularly attractive room, with a small bed set almost in the centre, and facing toward the windows which opened upon the lawns sloping toward the river. A dressing-table stood over against the wall to the left, and to the right, immediately next to the door leading into Miss Manahan's room, stood a little case filled with books. A comfortable rocking-chair of recent manufacture, a little table, and several other chairs were distributed about the room, into which opened three doors —one to a bathroom jointly shared by Mrs. Thornton and Mr. and Mrs. Davies, on the left, one to Miss Manahan's room, and one into the hall that ran along the building there, separating the bedrooms from the drawing-room, dining- room, and kitchen on the side of the house facing the road.

  Pons stood for a few moments in silence, gazing about the room. "This is the way the room has always been?"

  "Yes, Mr. Pons."

  "And when Mrs. Thornton has her seizures?"

  "She describes it in various ways. She says she has awakened to find herself facing the door to the hall, with the bookcase over against the windows; or again, facing the Davies' room, with the dressing-table against the windows."

  "You have never observed anything which might give her cause or reason for such hallucinations?"

  "No, Mr. Pons."

  "Have the Davies offered any explanation?"

  "Yes. They felt that perhaps the fact that the room was unusual in that it was circular was at the bottom of her hallucination, and they offered to exchange rooms with her; but she would not hear of it."

  "Ah! Why not?"

  "Because she felt she must fight this out by herself."

  Pons looked at me with a strange gleam in his eyes. "Surely that is remarkable insanity, is it not, Parker?"

  "Most remarkable."

  He smiled and began to move around the room; he looked casually at the dressing-table, the bookcase; he examined the windows and opened the door to the bathroom, muttering to himself as he went along. "Hm! Bath in pale green. Very neat. . . . They have certainly given her the best view of the river," adding over his shoulder to Miss Manahan, "You will have to draw the curtains all the way, for the fog is growing thicker every minute. I can hardly make out the summer-house." Then he got down on his knees and examined the bed and the floor, crawling around in a manner which puzzled and amused our client, for he was careless, as always, of his clothing, and he picked up all manner of lint, hairs, and the like, for only a few small rugs were laid on the floor, and the rest of it was bare, though not highly polished. He was occupied at this for some time before he rose to his feet, dusted himself, and confessed himself finished.

  "There are then two bedrooms besides this, and two bathrooms?" he asked.

  "Yes, Mr. Pons."

  "A drawing-room, a kitchen, a dining-room — and what else?"

  "A little room for storage, and two closets, with a pantry. That is all."

  "No basement?"

  "Only a small cellar for fruit directly under the kitchen."

  "Ah, well, I shall just look around."

  So he did, much to my amazement, even descending into the small, square concrete cellar under the kitchen. When he came up again he looked extremely thoughtful and somewhat perplexed.

  "We can return to Mrs. Thornton now," he said.

  Upon our return, darkness having fallen, Mrs. Thornton bade us good-night and retired to her room, accompanied by Miss Manahan. Pons lit his pipe and sat with his long legs stretched out before him, looking quizzically over at me with his keen eyes.

  "Did not Mrs. Thornton strike you as a most unusual mental case?"

  "Indeed she did."

  "I watched you with some interest, Parker. The expressions of your features are informative. I submit you did not believe Mrs. Thornton at all deranged."

  "Well, it is true her entire manner is that of one who has recovered from a mental lapse."

  "Is it not, indeed! I fancy very few patients would have the courage to speak so openly and frankly of their troubles."

  "Oh, some of them do nothing else."

  "Ah, yes, the hypochondriacs. But you did not think Mrs. Thornton one."

  "No."

  "You felt that her conduct was inconsistent with her seizures? Come, is it not so?"

  "Well, yes, I admit I did. But of course, the trouble with such mental cases is that the patient always seems perfectly normal, and it is difficult to tell which is the real psyche, to put it in those terms —the woman we saw or the woman she is overnight. I thought her comments about the sister-in-law most indicative."

  "That it was Miss Lavinia Thornton who was at the bottom of her trouble?"

  "I think there can be no doubt of it. I believe we should pay the lady a call and hear what she has to say."

  "Oh, I fancy we can avoid doing so," said Pons with assurance. "I know what the lady has to say."

  "Surely you have not seen her already?"

  "I have had no occasion to do so. Mrs. Thornton told us."

  He left me to puzzle this out for myself, and went back into reflective silence, puffing at his pipe from time to time, and crossing and re-crossing his legs. He got up presently and suggested that, in view of Miss Manahan's present occupation, we might just walk about the grounds a bit.

  We left the house and found that the fog had indeed grown thick. It was evident, however, that Pons wished to see the summer- house before we returned to our lodgings, for it was directly there that he walked, with an uncanny instinct for its direction from the house. It was, like the house, of wood, but with a litt
le stone terrace around it, and a stone floor; it was not locked — indeed, it seemed to have no lock —and Pons made his way inside. Like most structures of its kind, it was obviously designed chiefly for use at garden parties, or for reposing on a summer's day, made up, as it was, of a single large room, with quaint, rustic benches and a table to match. Pons used his lantern to examine the walls and floor.

  "Are those not large stone blocks, Parker?" he inquired thoughtfully.

  "Yes. Though I have seen larger."

  "It is a substantial floor."

  I agreed that it was.

  "Hm! It does not seem to you that there is anything noteworthy about it?"

  "Nothing beyond the fact that it is a very workman-like job. If ever I decide to leave Praed Street, I shall have to look up Mr. Davies's builder."

  "Well, there is surely no time like the present. Perhaps Miss Manahan can find it out for us."

  We returned to the house, where we found our client awaiting us amid some wonderment as to where we had gone. Pons explained that we had walked in the grounds, and then asked whether Mrs. Thornton had gone to sleep.

  "Not yet, Mr. Pons."

  "Ah! Would you be so good as to ask her two questions for me? Whether, if she knows the name of the builder of this house, she might be kind enough to let my friend Parker here have it? And whether her late husband's executor can easily be reached by telephone?"

  Miss Manahan looked at him somewhat strangely, but immediately departed to do as he requested. She came back in a few moments with both questions answered; the builder lived in London, not very far, as it turned out, from Praed Street; and, as for the executor, he was no longer active, since her husband's estate had naturally now been turned over to her, and her nephew was taking care of it for her.

  "Now there is just one more thing," said Pons. He produced from his pocket a piece of ordinary chalk. "After your patient has gone to sleep, let us just try an experiment. Take this chalk and draw a small line down any portion of the wall, across the narrow moulding between wall and floor, and out onto the floor, constructing a line of approximately a foot in length, as inconspicuously as possible."

  She took the chalk with an absurd expression of bafflement on her attractive features. "I am afraid your methods are quite beyond me, Mr. Pons."

  "Oh, there is nothing at all mysterious about my methods, Miss Manahan, believe me. They are all too simple. We have been proceeding all along on the theory that Mrs. Thornton's tale is a fabrication born of hallucination out of her mental condition. Let us just now proceed from the opposite pole. Mrs. Thornton's tale is either true or not true; that is simple logic. We shall have to discover the answer to the riddle ourselves, for plainly she cannot help us."

  I could not help adding a question of my own. "Would it not be appropriate to learn whether or not Mrs. Thornton's sister-in-law has visited her recently?"

  Miss Manahan responded at once. "It is strange that you should ask, Doctor. Miss Lavinia called this morning."

  "Ah, and I fancy the result of her call was the same as before?" put in Pons.

  "Yes, Mrs. Thornton was left much distressed."

  "Well, I daresay we can do no more here. How long, by the way, are Mr. and Mrs. Davies planning to be gone?"

  "They expect to return on Sunday night."

  "Capital! That will give us every opportunity of solving this little mystery. I trust your night will not be too difficult a one, Miss Manahan, but if any trouble should arise, pray do not hesitate to call on us, no matter what the hour. In any case, I hope you will send us a wire in the morning and inform us how Mrs. Thornton spent the night."

  "I will do so, Mr. Pons."

  We bade our client good-night and made our way back to the Tube. Pons was singularly silent, with a foreboding frown on his forehead, and he walked hunched up, his chin sunk into the folds of his coat.

  "What do you make of it?" I asked.

  "A devilish business, Parker. It goes against my grain."

  "Ah, you have a theory, then?"

  "On the contrary, I have the solution."

  "Impossible!" I cried. "I have been with you every moment."

  "Ah, yes, physically. Nothing is ever 'impossible' with quite your vehemence, my dear fellow."

  More than that he would not say.

  In the morning Miss Manahan, instead of sending a telegram, came to see us in person.

  She had a sorry tale to tell, for Mrs. Thornton had suffered a most difficult night. It had begun, as on other occasions, with the conviction that she heard her husband's voice calling to her, but last night there was an additional note in that the poor distraught lady had fancied her husband had begged her to leave this earthly plane and join him, and this had kept her awake for more than an hour at approximately midnight. In the early hours, everything had gone as usual: Mrs. Thornton had come into Miss Manahan's room crying that "they" had changed things again, "they" were after her, as always. When they had returned, the room had been just as it should be.

  I listened attentively to Miss Manahan's recital, and when she had finished I could not prevent myself from identifying the poor woman's type of delusion. "Paranoidal delusions," I said, shaking my head. "I'm afraid it is all up with her. She will get progressively worse."

  "And the chalk mark, Miss Manahan?"

  "I believe it was just as I made it."

  Pons chuckled delightedly. "Aha! I detect a note of hesitation in your voice, Miss Manahan. Come, come —what is it?"

  "Well," she laughed nervously. "I'm afraid I am beginning to have hallucinations, too, Mr. Pons. I did think the mark was a little off kilter, but I guess I must have drawn it crookedly; I did it in a hurry, and did not want to wake my patient; but when I first saw it this morning, I did get somewhat of a surprise."

  "Ah, no doubt. I fancy we shall be over in your direction tonight, Miss Manahan. Can you find us a room for the night?"

  "Why —I think so."

  "Expect us then. We shall arrive directly after dinner." He turned to me when she had left. "It is as I thought, Parker. We shall have to lose no time putting an end to this diabolic game."

  Fog rose again, as on the previous night, when we set out for Richmond, and Pons made no secret of his elation, saying that he preferred not to be seen in the vicinity of 23 Linley Road, and generally acting in a most mysterious manner, which he said nothing whatever to explain. Nor did he volunteer any explanation to Miss Manahan; he asked at once to see her patient, the gentle Mrs. Thornton, and when the old lady came, he sat down next to her, took one of her frail hands in his, and spoke most cajolingly.

  "Do you know, Mrs. Thornton, I have become most interested in your trouble. Unlike Miss Manahan, I am beginning to believe that your room actually is changed, just as you described it to Miss Manahan to be."

  I thought that this blunt approach might be harmful to the patient, and was hard-pressed to interfere; but I knew better, and Mrs. Thornton's reaction was one of bewildered interest, as if at first she had not understood that Miss Manahan had spoken to us of her hallucinations, and secondly, as if she were pleasantly surprised to discover someone who did not dismiss her hallucinations for what they were.

  "Will you give Dr. Parker and me an opportunity to look into the matter?"

  "Why, certainly, Mr. Pons." She looked hesitantly at Miss Manahan, and was reassured by the young woman's confident smile.

  "Then for tonight only I want you to share Miss Manahan's room, and permit Dr. Parker and myself to occupy your own. I assure you we shall look into the matter with fairness and impartiality."

  For only a moment the old lady hesitated. Then she began to tremble, biting her lip, her emotions aroused. "I am afraid — I — it's no use. It is nothing anyone else sees, or hears —nothing. Oh, Mr. Pons, if only you could!"

  "Let us just see," replied Pons calmly. "Surely there is no harm in trying."

  In the end, Mrs. Thornton gave in. Thereupon, Pons and I retired at once to the patient's room, though
not before adjuring both the ladies to carry on for the remainder of the evening as if they were quite alone in the house.

  Once in the room, Pons drew the curtains and turned on the light. He took a magnifying glass from his pocket, found the chalk mark Miss Manahan had made, and came to his knees to examine it.

  "Ah, our Miss Manahan is not perfect in observation. Look here, Parker."

  I took the glass and held it over the angle of the chalk line.

  "I submit that Miss Manahan could not have drawn that line in such a fashion. There is a clear, if fractional break, between the wall and the floor. Or let us say, rather, between the edge of the moulding and the floor."

  "Yes, that is all very true," I conceded, "but what is the explanation?"

  "Ah, it is the obvious one, surely." He pocketed his glass, took out his penknife, opened it, and slipped its blade beneath the moulding; he moved it freely about. "Does not that suggest anything to you?"

  "The moulding appears to be attached to the wall rather than the floor."

  "Ah, well, that is very often done." He moved along the wall five feet and again passed his knife-blade between the moulding and the floor. "I fancy that is the rule." He got up. "Hm! Now let us see. We shall not go to bed, of course, but let us rig up some sort of dummy to occupy Mrs. Thornton's place. I fancy we shall want to be out of sight of that bathroom door, for, unless I am greatly mistaken, it plays its own small part in this mystery."

  I looked at the door. "I am in the woods, Pons. How can you possibly make such an assertion?" I strode over, opened the door, and looked into the bathroom.

  Pons observed me with manifest patience. "Let us say that you make yourself comfortable on the floor behind the door as it opens. I myself will find a place behind the bed." As he spoke, he began to arrange Mrs. Thornton's bed with a roll of blanket and a pillow to simulate someone sleeping there. Having finished this, he turned out the light, crossed to the windows, and threw up the blinds, together with the central window, which was the largest; this, despite the fog, he opened halfway. In the adjoining room, meanwhile, the ladies were preparing for bed.

  "Now, then, Parker —not a sound. Whatever you hear, say