by Basil Copper
"What does this mean, Mr. Grimstone?"
Grimstone stared at us with an ashen countenance; it was obvious his glazed eyes saw nothing but the form of young Knight. His voice, when it came, was thick.
"So, you have come back from the marsh, have you? Well, I put you there once and I can do so again!"
He raised the revolver with a hoarse cry but Pons' reaction was as quick as a striking snake's. He cannoned into Knight and the crack of the explosion and the tinkle of window glass that followed showed where the bullet had gone.
"Run for your life!" Solar Pons commanded.
He extinguished the torch and I just caught a glimpse of Knight against the lighter square of the doorway before he had gone. There was another shot and then old Grimstone rushed after him at a lurching run.
"I am sorry, Pons," I said, as the lean shadow of my friend got to its feet.
Pons switched on his light again and as he did so we heard the faint crack of an explosion outside.
"No time for recriminations, Parker. Pray that we shall be able to avoid another tragedy."
Outside, we found the mist thickening a little but it was not difficult to see the direction our quarry had taken. Knight had wisely gone down into the swamp area, where he was obviously at home, instead of across the uplands where he would have made an excellent target.
But the way soon twisted among thick bushes and Pons twice stopped to examine broken reed-stems under his light. His face bore the stamp of great anxiety.
"He has turned aside from the path, Parker. I fear the worst."
A few seconds later we came upon my revolver where it had fallen barrel down among the reeds. I bent to pick it up and found Pons' hand on my arm.
"It would be unwise to venture farther, Parker."
As he spoke there came an unearthly scream from the misty depths of the marsh ahead. It had such fear and horror in it that I think I shall remember it to my dying day and even Pons seemed shaken. We stood there as it echoed and reechoed until it finally died away.
"It is all my fault," I said. "After all your efforts on behalf of your client."
Pons shook his head, a strange expression on his features in the glow of the flashlight. He led the way back to the firmer footing of the path.
"Client or no, Parker, I think the world has seen the last of a damnable villain. If he has not been scared into permanent flight, young Knight is the only person who can fill in the missing pieces for us."
I put the revolver back into my pocket; as we stepped up on to the higher ground there was a low rustling in the bushes.
The disheveled figure of Knight stepped out onto the path, an obviously shaken and frightened man. "I swear I did not mean it to end like this, Mr. Pons," he said wildly.
Solar Pons looked at him for a long moment.
"Explanations will keep, Mr. Knight," he said slowly. "I suggest we return to the manor immediately and break the news to Miss Grimstone."
12
"I am deeply shocked, but I cannot say I am entirely surprised at this ending, Mr. Pons."
Miss Sylvia Grimstone's face was gray and strained but she was quite in command of herself as she sat by the fire in the parlor at Grimstone Manor and poured thick, hot coffee.
I took the cup from her gratefully, for I was frozen to the bone and the fire in the grate had sunk to a few glowing embers. Knight sat at a round table near the fire, midway between myself and Pons and our hostess.
"The police will be here within the hour, Miss Grimstone," said Solar Pons, his restless eyes probing round the room. "I think some explanations are in order before they arrive."
"I would be grateful for some light in this business, Pons, for I am completely in the dark."
My companion smiled wryly as he put down his cup and looked across at the young man who sat, pale and trembling before us.
"As I have said on more than one occasion, Parker, patience is not always your strong suit. However, let me get briefly to the point. As soon as Silas Grimstone had told me his extraordinary story I realized that there would be some perfectly simple explanation. Phantoms do not walk in my book, neither do the dead return to plague the living. Therefore, I was looking for an elaborate masquerade. I wanted a man who knew the marshes; a stranger possibly, who had taken the trouble to map the secret paths; one who probably knew something about Grimstone's past and intended to frighten him by dressing up in the phosphorescent clothing we have already seen."
"But for what purpose?"
"We are coming to that, Parker. I first needed the method by which the phantom appeared and disappeared in such a startling manner; then a possible refuge in the marsh where he could hide and don his disguise; and finally, some corroboration from others that the apparition was not limited to Grimstone alone. I obtained all three in fairly short order."
Solar Pons stood up and went over to the fireplace; he kicked the fallen embers into life and Miss Grimstone hurried to put on some fresh wood to feed the little blaze.
"It soon became evident that the appearance of the phantom and its lightning disappearances could be explained by only one set of circumstances. My travels round the marsh made it self-evident that such appearances and disappearances would have to be extremely carefully engineered or the masquerader would rapidly end a victim himself.
"It merely meant that the apparition—created by a luminous chemical solution—was painted on one side of the hooded cloak only. The person wearing it would then merely have to turn his back on his victim to become invisible. Jessel put me on to it when he said the apparition disappeared as though someone had pulled down a blind. My deductions were proved right this evening in all respects when, as I suspected, I saw that the facial image strongly resembled Silas Grimstone himself."
"You cannot mean it!"
"I was never more serious, my dear fellow," said Solar Pons with a grim smile. "Our walk this morning and the conclusions I drew from the evidence presented to me, made it equally obvious that D'Eath Farm was the only conveniently situated building that would suit. Knight here could not only escape into the marsh but easily reach the main road. When I saw the padlocked door of the abandoned farm building and smelt the distinctive odor of phosphorus, my conclusions were hardened."
"What about your third point, Pons?" I asked.
"That was the most important of all. The entire deception was designed as an accusation; to appeal to old Silas Grim-stone's guilty conscience. He had to be convinced that he—and he alone—had seen a ghost. Unfortunately for our friend here, others became aware of the deception. Among them, Dr. Strangeways and the late Tobias Jessel."
Knight was already on his feet.
"I was not responsible for Jessel's death, Mr. Pons! I swear I only intended to frighten Grimstone into a confession."
"I am well aware of that," said my friend gently. "Jesse! undoubtedly fell into the water in a drunken stupor."
"What about the cuts on his hands, Pons?' I asked.
Pons shook his head.
"The wounds were made by the jagged edges of the broken ice."
Solar Pons turned away from Miss Grimstone and Knight, who slowly resumed his seat.
"To get back to my point, Parker. I strongly suspected that the so-called phantom had carefully prepared his scheme and that he wished only Grimstone to see the figure he had created. You may remember I was particularly careful to ask Grimstone about the circumstances when both he and his niece saw the apparition."
"I remember, Pons."
"You will recall that Miss Grimstone suddenly appeared from behind a fringe of bushes, and I commended that fact to you. Knight did not even know she was there. In fact he was himself frightened by her sudden shriek and immediately ran off. Is that not so?"
"Indeed, Mr. Pons."
Knight lowered his head and looked the very figure of contrition. I shot a puzzled glance at Pons and then at Miss Grimstone, who sat behind the coffee pot with tightly compressed lips. The .clock ticked sonorously in
the corner and it seemed impossible that the incredible drama of an hour ago had taken old Silas Grimstone so dramatically from us.
"You may remember also, Parker, that I was particularly intent on discovering the circumstances of the phantom's appearances to the old man. No true apparition, if such a thing existed, would make a noise when it appeared or disappeared; therefore, it was manufactured. We have already dealt with the matter of any traces it made being swallowed up by the mud and water, though there was enough evidence from the reeds and broken grasses to establish the passage of some heavy body. The zigzagging motion the thing made was because Knight had to keep to the firm paths to avoid being sucked under.
"You may also recall, Parker, I took some trouble when we were out on the marsh, in examining the dyke near Grimstone Manor, the spot where both old Grimstone and Tobias Jessel had their frightening experiences with the fiery blue figure. Jessel was not meant to see the phantom. Knight was hanging about in his guise, down below the dyke, waiting to see if old Grimstone was corning out. He did not hear Jessel walking along the road above and thus blundered on him accidentally. I submit that this reading is correct as I could not hear your footsteps, Parker, when I was at the foot of the bank, a long way below the level of the road."
"You are perfectly correct," said Knight with a groan. "It happened exactly as you said. And I can swear that I was nowhere near old Jessel on the night of his death."
"I believe you," said Solar Pons slowly. "And can so testify to the police if necessary."
I looked at my companion in amazement.
"This case began with a client being terrified by a phantom, and now it appears to be ending with the client as the villain and the attempted murderer as an innocent man!"
"Does it not, Parker," remarked Solar Pons with a dry chuckle.
There was silence for a brief moment. It was broken by Knight who seemed to be recovering his spirits as Pons proceeded.
"How did you come to suspect me?"
"I had a good many people who might have superficially fitted the bill," said Solar Pons. "They included Dr. Strangeways and a farmer on the marsh; our man might even have been concealed in a party of walkers who descended on the village. But I was looking for a young and active man; one who had a strong motive for treating old Grimstone so; one who had mastered all the paths and tracks of the marsh."
I looked at Pons in rising irritation.
"But how on earth could you have reasoned all this? We hardly knew Mr. Knight."
Solar Pons smiled, sending out a stream of aromatic blue smoke toward the ceiling.
"All this came to me very slowly old friend. And there was not a great deal of data to go on. But when I inspected the hotel register and found that Mr. Knight had come to The Harrow in September, only a few weeks before the ghostly manifestations began, my suspicions began to crystallize. Then, when Mr. Knight boldly introduced himself and I was able to study him close at hand, I immediately saw light. It was a master stroke, Mr. Knight, to make such a dramatic entrance, though there was some risk that Dr. Strangeways might have examined your supposedly injured ankle."
To my astonishment Knight gave a low chuckle.
"There is no getting around you, Mr. Pons. I reasoned, quite correctly, as it turned out, that Strangeways would not want to be bothered with anything so trivial, especially as he was enjoying a social evening at the hotel. Where did I go wrong?"
Solar Pons smiled thinly.
"When you came into the saloon you were limping with the right leg. The following morning, when we saw you just after breakfast, you limped on the left."
I looked thunderstruck at Pons. Even Miss Grimstone had to smile.
"But why all this masquerade and why the limp?"
"To provide an alibi, Parker," said my companion patiently. "An injured man could not leap agilely about the marsh in that fashion. The solution came to me rather late. It was the facial resemblance, you see."
"Facial resemblance, Pons?"
Solar Pons nodded dreamily, his eyes half-closed.
"Unless I miss my guess, Mr. Knight is a close relative of Silas Grimstone. I would hazard his nephew."
Miss Grimstone closed her eyes and appeared much moved by the disclosure. She breathed heavily.
"You are perfectly right, Mr. Pons."
"But why would Grimstone's nephew want to drive him out of his wits?" I cried somewhat wildly.
"One of the oldest motives known to mankind, Parker.-Revenge. Miss Grimstone herself supplied the missing fragments of my pattern on the marsh this morning. She said that Jethro Grimstone, the partner in the firm, went to Australia many years ago. It can never be proved now but I submit that his body is lying out there in the depths of the marsh somewhere. Mr. Knight—or rather Mr. Grimstone here—had come back from Australia and decided to take the law into his own hands to obtain a confession from his uncle. He would need an accomplice for that, Miss Grimstone, would he not?"
Our hostess drew herself up, tiny spots of red burning her cheeks.
"I know how it must look, Mr. Pons, but there was great justification for what John Grimstone did."
She looked across the room as though for silent corroboration from the man who had used the name, Knight. He stirred himself and stared at us with somber eyes.
"It is an old story, Mr. Pons, and goes back many years but I want you to know the truth. My father was a good man; he built the family firm, though there was always bad blood between the brothers. Silas was a dreadful, miserly man even when younger. My mother told me a great deal about the situation as I grew older. As I have said, I was only a child when the events I am referring to occurred. My family was well-off and we lived at Grimstone Manor in some style. Ail that was soon to change. My father told my mother a good deal about his suspicions but she was never able to prove anything.
"To bring a long story to a speedy end, Mr. Pons, my father simply disappeared one day. He was out on the marsh and never returned. Neither was his body recovered. A man resembling Silas Grimstone was seen at the nearest railway station, but my uncle maintained that he was in London all that day. He told us that my father had to go to Australia on business suddenly. The idea was ridiculous, particularly as he and mother were very close. Strange that he would go off like that without discussing it beforehand. In any case he had taken neither clothing nor luggage. It is my firm belief that Silas Grimstone waylaid my father on a lonely path in the marsh, attacked him from behind, perhaps with a heavy stone as a weapon, and then threw him into the quicksand."
The young man paused and stared at us with a haggard face.
"But a strange thing happened. A letter eventually came from Australia. It is my belief it was a forgery, committed at Grimstone's instructions. It was from a hotel in Adelaide and said father had to go out there on business for the firm. We were not to worry—and that he would return eventually. My mother showed the letter to a number of friends, but the forgery had been skillfully done and everyone said it was father's hand. Grimstone then started a rumor that the firm's affairs were in disorder and that father had fled to avoid being compromised in unscrupulous conduct.
"The final bombshell was a will, drawn up in Silas Grim-stone's favor and apparently signed by my father. It left the house and the business to his brother. Of course, my mother fought the matter in the courts, but after some years the decision went against us. She was penniless and had to give up the house. Eventually she scraped some money together and we sailed to a new life in Australia. But mother was broken in mind and body and she herself hardly knew what to believe. She had some hope that we would be reunited with father in Adelaide but of course there was no such hotel as that in the letter and we never did find him. She had told me of her suspicions as I grew older, and I progressed to manhood with a burning desire for revenge. Mother died a few months ago and I felt free to return, the remainder of the family being settled, and myself a bachelor. I heard that Silas Grimstone still lived, made my way to Kent and perfected my p
lan. It seemed perfectly justified to me. I modeled the phosphorescent hood on an old photograph of my father's features. I met Miss Grimstone on the marsh from time to time. She recognized the family likeness and I confided in her."
There was a long and deep silence, broken only by Pons knocking out his pipe in the fireplace.
"What have you to say to that. Miss Grimstone?"
"It is true, Mr. Pons. My uncle, by his manner and furtive behavior over the years regarding his brother had aroused my suspicions. He was pathologically frightened of anything to do with the marsh, though paradoxically, he felt compelled to go out at night on occasion."
"Perhaps he wished to make sure that the body of this young man's father remained undisturbed in its burial place on the marsh," suggested Solar Pons somberly.
Miss Grimstone shuddered and her face changed color.
"Perhaps, Mr. Pons. But with this background, rightly or wrongly, my sympathies were with John Grimstone, once I had heard his story. I have suffered a good deal under my uncle's regime here all these years. I am afraid I am not at all sorry at how it has turned out. But I must make it clear I did not know anything of the apparition or exactly what John Grimstone intended."
"I did not say I condemned either of you," said Solar Pons quickly. "And Silas Grimstone would certainly have killed young Mr. Grimstone here had not the marsh claimed the old rascal at an opportune moment."
"I helped John Grimstone to his revenge," said Miss Grimstone slowly and deliberately. "I informed him of the old man's movements and when he might be going out. We hoped for a full confession."
"You need say no more," said Solar Pons. "I think we might leave it there."
Both Miss Grimstone and the young man turned surprised faces toward my companion.
John Grimstone cleared his throat.
"I am not quite sure I understand you, Mr. Pons."
"I am not a moral judge, Mr. Grimstone," said Solar Pons. "I think we will leave the dead to bury the dead. I am convinced of the truth of your story and that rough justice has been done."