by Basil Copper
And he was off, shouldering the shotgun and whistling to the dog to follow him. Solar Pons stood, smoke curling from the bowl of his pipe, a thin smile on his lips, as he followed Tebble's figure until it was lost in the haze.
"What do you make of him, Pons?"
"A bold fellow and an excellent shot by appearances."
"Do you think he is concerned with this business? It is highly suspicious finding him here by these ruins like this." Solar Pons arched his eyebrows.
"I do not see why, Parker. You are here yourself."
"But only with you, Pons, on highly lawful business."
Solar Pons chuckled, pulling ruminatively at the lobe of his left ear.
"Mr. Tebble is hardly likely to know that, Parker. Now that we are here, let us just look about."
Having satisfied himself that we were alone on the knoll, Pons produced his powerful pocket lens and went purposefully up and down the old ruins. It was indeed a tumbledown, God-forsaken spot and as the minutes passed and I watched his energetic, purposeful figure I marveled once again at the patience and thoroughness with which he examined details of brickwork, earth flooring and broken reed-stems whose stories, so obvious to him, were literally a closed book to me.
There was an air of disappointment about him as he put the glass in its case with a snap.
"This is not the place, Parker."
He glanced up at the brightening sky.
"Well, I hardly thought we should score on the first shot. We must take another walk."
Without turning he walked energetically down the knoll and plunged forward into the marsh again.
8
Within some twenty minutes the landscape had again subtly changed; if anything, it had become even more bleak and somber than that surrounding Grimstone Manor. Though the sun still shone, the slimy ooze ever deepened about us, as the warmth melted the ice which lingered in the hollows and a clammy vapor hovered thickly over the surface.
But Solar Pons was his old, energetic self as he led the way with unerring precision ever deeper into the heart of the bog, so that I was hard put to follow at times. Now and again he stopped to consult the map but was then swiftly off again like an urgent animal upon some scent. Just as I was about to become really worried, another knoll loomed up before us and there were the tumbled walls and remains of an ancient building that looked, from its general outline, like a medieval abbey or monastery.
Solar Pons looked at me with satisfaction.
"We are improving, Parker. It is not so very difficult to find one's way about, providing one reads the map accurately and uses one's common sense."
"You have exceptional abilities, Pons," I murmured. "I would not care to be in this alone."
"Anyway, here we are at the abbey," said Pons. "We have only one other objective this morning and you will no doubt be pleased to learn that we are walking in a giant circle which should eventually bring us back somewhere within hailing distance of Grimstone Manor."
"I am glad to hear it, Pons," said I, setting foot on a solid earth path that led up toward the abbey ruins. "I am becoming a little tired of marshland, birds and sheep."
Solar Pons smiled grimily, looking sharply about him. He uttered a low cry of annoyance as we came up closer to the ruins. There were people there; many people, dressed in thick clothes and with rucksacks.
"Good heavens, Pons!" I exclaimed. 'These are the walkers; the people from the inn."
"Are they not, Parker," said Pons ruefully. "Any evidence our phantom has left here will certainly be obliterated by now."
But whatever disappointment he felt he managed to conceal with his usual adroit manner. He lounged up the path as though he had not a care in the world, exchanging friendly nods at the polite greetings of the people.
"The Cistercians were remarkable builders, Parker, were they not," he declared looking at the detail of a crumbling archway before us.
"Certainly, Pons. The order still flourishes, I believe?" "Most definitely."
Though Pons could not use his powerful magnifying lens, he certainly went over the ground in great detail, though the sightseers at this ancient monument would not have gathered it from his casual manner.
I sat down on a large flat stone and smoked for a while, content to let my companion wander; the sun was a little warmer in this enclosed space, though it was still bitterly cold and I did not linger long in that position. When Pons rejoined me his face had cleared.
"This is not the place, Parker. That seems self-evident." "You have found something, Pons?"
He shook his head as we hurried down the far side of the knoll and back into the marshy ground.
"These walkers have saved us time, Parker. The old ruins are too public. They came by the main road. There is a new, paved path not marked on my map, which leads direct to the ruins, which are listed as an ancient monument."
He smoked on in silence for a moment or two, his face looking worried.
"Our final destination this morning must bear out my theory or I shall have to rethink our tactics."
He said nothing further. We went on and on into the bleak wilderness, the cold forgotten in the exercise I found in treading in exactly the same places as those just vacated by my friend. We had been proceeding in this manner for some while when Pons stopped casually and turned to me. He made an elaborate ritual of clearing out the bowl of his pipe before tamping it with fresh tobacco.
"Solitude is a wonderful thing, Parker," he said. "It becomes more precious as we advance farther and farther into the twentieth century."
"I am not so sure, Pons . . ." I began when my companion rudely interrupted me.
"Come, Parker, solitude is at a premium. Even in the middle of a deserted swamp one cannot escape from the madding crowd. Good morning, doctor!"
To my astonishment a thick clump of bushes at the right of the path just ahead of us wavered, though there was no breeze. A moment later the bull-like form of Dr. Strangeways stepped on to the path. The doctor looked considerably embarrassed.
"Well, Mr. Pons," he rumbled. "I trust you did not think I was spying upon you?"
"I did not know what to think, doctor," said Pons blandly. "But if you wish to keep an eye on people without being observed, it is good to keep your binoculars in shadow. The sun was shining directly on to the lenses there."
The doctor bristled as though he were keeping his temper with difficulty.
"I was looking not at you, Mr. Pons, but at a pair of rare birds. I was concerned at their safety when I heard in the village that the walkers were on the marsh."
"I see," said Solar Pons, giving him a searching look. "However, I do not think you need be worried. They are not likely to go beyond the abbey ruins. You seem to have completed your post mortem rather quickly."
The doctor's eyes were clouded and blank as he turned them upon Pons.
"It was a routine matter after all. There is no doubt in my mind old Jessel died of drowning."
Solar Pons frowned.
"Yet you seemed to have some doubts earlier this morning, doctor. It was almost as though you yourself believed in the phantom of the marsh."
Strangeways drew himself up and his face looked troubled.
"I would not care to tell everyone this, Mr. Pons, but I felt guilty about Jessel. I had been deriding his stories, regarding them as mere drunkard's tales, but I myself saw something very strange after I left you last night."
"Indeed."
Strangeways nodded.
"I was called out after midnight to an emergency case. The patient's cottage was beside the main road beyond Grimstone Manor. I was driving along the rim of the marsh when I saw a weird blue light bobbing about, a considerable way off. It looked like a human figure but there was something unearthly about it."
Dr. Strangeways swallowed and there was doubt in his eyes as he looked at Pons somberly.
"It gave me quite a turn, Mr. Pons, I don't mind telling you. And I felt quite ashamed at disbelieving old Jessel. And w
hen I saw him dead this morning my shock can be imagined. He was found, you see, quite near where I saw the figure last night. Ought I to tell the police and the coroner, do you think?"
There was an unexpected gentleness in Solar Pons' voice as he replied. He put his hand on the doctor's arm.
"Discretion for the time being, doctor, I feel. The fewer people who know about this the better."
The doctor nodded; there was a strange expression in his eyes as he gazed at Pons.
"Tell me," my companion continued, "what was this phantom like?"
Impatience was already returning to Strangeways' voice.
"I have already told you, Mr. Pons. It was a fiery, bluish figure. It was too far away to see any detail."
"But how did it appear or disappear?"
The doctor stared at Pons in exasperation.
"How should I know, Mr. Pons? It was already visible when I first became aware of it. As soon as I saw it I was so startled I almost drove off the road. When I looked again it suddenly disappeared."
"Just so."
Solar Pons nodded, an expression of satisfaction on his face. "As we have already heard. Like the pulling down of a blind, was it not?"
He turned to me.
"We shall be at the inn this evening, doctor, if we are required. Come, Parker."
We left the burly figure of the medical man standing in perplexity on the path. I glanced back once and saw the sun glinting on the rim of his binoculars, an expression of bafflement on his face.
A half hour of cautious casting about in the marsh brought us at last to our final destination, a huddle of squalid brick buildings that looked like an abandoned tenant farm. Solar Pons' eyes were quick and alert.
"Aha, Parker, this is more like it."
He bent down at the edge of the reeds where I could see the heavy impression of a foot. Pons had his lens out and was making a minute examination. He searched about for a few minutes, then traced the fading impressions up on to firmer ground where they were lost on a rocky outcrop.
I followed Pons over toward the dilapidated brick sheds. Their corrugated iron roofs were red with rust and it was obvious they had been abandoned for years.
"D'Eath Farm," said Pons, consulting his map. "A most appropriate name."
"What did the tracks tell you, Pons?"
He gave me a quizzical look.
"Quite a lot, Parker. Many people have been here. Some of the footprints I cannot make out. Certainly Strangeways has been here within the past few days. And possibly Tebble. I could not see the welts of his shooting boots because he was wearing them just now. But the imprints at the edge of the marsh there are similar to the ones he made in the soft earth when he was standing talking to us and the pawmarks of his retriever are unmistakable."
I looked at him wide-eyed.
"You could tell all that from this jumble of muddy marks on the ground, Pons?"
My companion chuckled.
"You forget I have made a study of such things, Parker. I could deduce a good deal more also. A lady has been here too. Though she wears heavy gumboots, her lighter step is quite distinctive and entirely different from that made by a child."
"You should write a monograph on the subject, Pons," I said drily.
Pons' wry smile widened.
"I have published four, Parker. But let us just look at those buildings yonder."
His aquiline nostrils were already sniffing the air as we approached the brick buildings. A moment later I caught what his keen sense of smell had already told him.
"Chemicals, Pons?"
Solar Pons nodded.
"Undoubtedly."
"Perhaps these sheds are used as an agricultural store, Pons?"
"Perhaps," was the cautious reply.
My companion stepped to the door of the largest building and frowned. He tried the handle cautiously. It was obviously locked. He looked through the grimy window but when I joined him it was impossible to make anything out; the windows had apparently been painted white on the inside. We moved round. The next lean-to had its door secured by a heavy padlock.
"These do not appear to be discussed after all, Parker," he said.
His eyes were twinkling as blue smoke uncoiled from his pipe. He thrust his hands deep into his pockets as he stared over my shoulder.
"For a swamp, this area of Kent is becoming remarkably crowded, Parker," he said mildly. "Good morning, Miss Grimstone!"
I turned to find our eccentric client's niece striding down a knoll toward us. She was sensibly and tweedily dressed and I saw at once that she wore stout gumboots plastered with mud.
"Good morning, Mr. Pons! Good morning, Dr. Parker!"
There was a smile on Miss Grimstone's face but it was obvious she was disconcerted.
"I come here often to search for wild flowers and plants," she said somewhat defensively.
"Indeed," said Solar Pons. "I am glad to have seen you for I intended to call at the manor on the way back. How is your uncle?"
"Well, Mr. Pons. But he is a badly frightened man. Could I persuade you to have lunch with us?"
Pons was taken aback but he concealed the fact well; perhaps we had been mistaken and Miss Grimstone was not so miserly as we had been led to believe.
"I must talk to you, Mr. Pons, and there will be little opportunity otherwise. I was just going back and I have the buggy on the high road only half a mile from here,"
Pons smiled as I looked thankfully from him to Miss Grim-stone. Truth to tell I was not keen to retrace my steps over the miles of marshland we had already traversed.
"If you have quite finished here . . . "
"By all means."
Pons fell into step with Miss Grimstone and the two of them led the way diagonally down the slope and in a direction at right angles to the way we had come. I was content to follow behind them, keeping a sharp lookout still to make sure I was treading exactly in Pons' footprints.
Miss Grimstone did not seem quite so forbidding as she had first appeared and I noticed her shooting shrewd glances at Pons from time to time. Eventually she seemed to come to some decision for she said, with an ironical inflexion in her voice, "You do not seem to think much of our household, Mr. Pons. Please do not judge me too harshly. I have had to fight for everything I have and such early struggles tend to distort one's character."
I saw that Pons' features bore a reassuring expression as he turned his head back over his shoulder to include me in the conversation.
"I can assure you, Miss Grimstone, that I do not lightly judge people. I am too used to human nature to be surprised by anything I find; neither do I adopt a censorious attitude."
"Nevertheless, you have certain reservations about Silas Grimstone," said the gray-haired woman shrewdly. "I have a number myself."
"You are frank at any rate. It is true that I do not approve of miserliness, neither do I regard it as one of the major virtues, particularly when the person in whom it appears has more than his fair share of the world's goods."
Miss Grimstone nodded, a deep sigh escaping her lips.
"You are right, Mr. Pons, and I am afraid that my uncle's habits have become somewhat ingrained in me."
"It is often so in such enclosed households, Miss Grimstone. There was no need to mention it. And what of your uncle's earlier struggles . . . ?"
"Business matters, Mr. Pons. He and his brother fought rancorous battles for control of the firm."
Solar Pons' brow knotted and he turned sharply toward our companion.
"I did not know Mr. Grimstone had a second brother."
The niece shook her head.
"He would not have mentioned it of his own accord, Mr. Pons. It was a sore point between them. In the end he bought out his brother's share of the firm. Mr. Jethro Grimstone emigrated to Australia, I understand."
"Indeed. When did all this take place, Miss Grimstone?"
"Many years ago, Mr. Pons. Over twenty, I believe. I was not living at the manor in those days, of course.
But I heard all about it from my father, who died shortly after. There were three brothers, you see, but my father abhorred Silas Grim-stone. He was an open-hearted and generous man."
She smiled shyly at Pons as we slowly traversed the marshland path.
"I was only thirty or so then and much more personable. I was hoping to be married when my father died and there was a change in my circumstances."
There was a brooding sadness in her eyes as I glanced at her. I glimpsed in that moment all the long years of housekeeping for Silas Grimstone and all the hopes for a happier life with a husband and family she must long since have given up. Pons stared at her for a moment, compassion shining in his eyes.
"I am truly sorry to hear that, Miss Grimstone. What you have just said interests me. You say your second uncle went to Australia."
"So I was told, Mr. Pons."
"By Silas Grimstone?"
"Yes. He mentioned it a number of times."
"And after he had gained control of the firm, things greatly improved."
"I believe so, yes."
"Hmm." Solar Pons paused on the path and pulled reflectively at the lobe of his right ear. "You have not said much about this apparition of the marsh, Miss Grimstone. What is your theory about it? And why was your uncle so frightened?"
"Well, if you had seen it, Mr. Pons, you would have been frightened too."
Pons smiled ruefully.
"Perhaps you are right, Miss Grimstone. I understand it was seen again last night."
He held up his hand to avoid any further questions as we came up the narrow path onto level ground. Nearby a pony harnessed to a shabby carriage chewed the winter grass as it stood tethered to the fence. Solar Pons turned to me as he waited for Miss Grimstone to ascend to the driver's seat of the vehicle.
"I think perhaps it might be best if we kept watch at the Manor tonight, Parker. This will-o'-the-wisp may strike again and it is as well to be on our guard."
9
"I hope this is not going on my bill, Mr. Pons!"
Silas Grimstone's voice was thick with clotted greed as he glared at my companion. We were sitting in the parlor at Grimstone Manor, the blinds drawn, our chairs close to the smoldering fire on the hearth. We had already eaten. I was beginning to forget the dampness and chill of the marsh as we had seen it that morning, though the room was far from over-warm as the temperature had dropped considerably with the coming of nightfall.