"DERLETH, August - The Adventure of the Late Mr. Faversham (A Solar Pons story)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Derleth August)

"Take a look at it, Parker. It's rather interesting."

I took the book and began to examine it, while he occupied himself on the telephone. The book was bound in black cloth, and the printing on its cover was large. The gold-leaf lettering of the title read, Die Philosophie. It was a ponderous volume of some nine hundred pages. The title page was inscribed: Mit Freundlichen Gruss, Hans von Ruda--Weinachten, 1921. The text was printed in large type and easy to read, though the pages were uncommonly thin. I turned the book over and over in my hands, and leafed through it in the hope of discovering what Pons seemed to have found. But when he turned from the telephone at last I knew no more than when he had handed me the book.

"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Pons.

"At first glance I'd say the book was little used," I ventured .

"Elementary--but still of some significance in view of the fact that von Ruda and Faversham are warm friends, and since Faversham has had the book since 1921, with ample time to go through it. Yet several pages are still uncut. You noticed nothing else?"

"Nothing. Why?"

"No matter. I'll come back to the book later." He put the book away. "You went through the house, Parker. What did you see?"

"Enough to assure me that Faversham couldn't have gotten out of any window or either back or side door; everything is securely boarded up, and no one could go through without leaving telltale marks. There are none. Moreover Mecker systematically tapped the walls. There just isn't room in the small proportions of the building for anything in the nature of a secret passage--but that would impute a criminal motive to Faversham himself, rather than to some outsider."

Pons shrugged. "Not necessarily. But I hardly expect to discover any secret passages."

"Well, there's certainly a flaw somewhere--the professor simply didn't walk into his house and vanish."

"Well, that is the story, Parker," said Pons, chuckling. "But perhaps the flaw is not in the story. We shall see. I have just called the Yard and asked to have Professor von Ruda sent up with Mecker when he comes. Until then, let us forget about the matter."

We had not long to wait, for in something like two hours the bell rang. The ringing of the bell was followed by Mecker, who trailed in his wake a shabby, bent old man, who bore all the obvious earmarks of a professor. He was thin, yet his features gave the impression of being wizened and drawn. His eyes were hidden behind old-fashioned green spectacles. On his scant hair he wore an equally old-fashioned beaver hat, and a long black capecoat reached below his knees. To cap this almost ridiculous outfit, the German professor carried firmly in one hand a bulging umbrella of indeterminate age.

"Well, sir," he addressed Pons in a high, shrill voice, "I hope you have found what has become of my esteemed colleague; it is certainly not to my liking to be detained much longer."

"Especially since your boat leaves tomorrow, eh, Doctor?" asked Pons quietly.

'Exactly. I don't want to miss it. But come, sir, tell us--you've discovered something?"

"Yes, I may say I have," replied Pons in that unfailingly calm manner in which he was accustomed to make the most important announcements. "I look forward to producing the lost Mr. Faversham before the night is over."

Surprise stilled the room, following Pons' statement. Mecker flashed a glance of perplexity at me; I returned it. Only von Ruda remained unmoved; he did not ask, as I expected him to, whether Faversham would be found alive or dead, but only said that he hoped Pons was right, and that he would then be able to sail after all.

"To begin with," said Pons, "I should like to hear your story, Doctor."

"Again?" snapped the professor curtly. He shrugged. "I suppose I must go through with it. Must you have all of it?"

"All."

Von Ruda shrugged his shapeless shoulders again and began. "As you no doubt know, I have been visiting in London; I was in Paris and had arranged to meet my good friend and colleague, Professor Faversham, at his home directly on his return from Scotland. That was five days ago. I came to London, registered at the Adelphi, and that evening went to Faversham's home. He had just got in, and we spent some hours together. It was late when I returned to the hotel, as perhaps the clerks will tell you, if you care to inquire."

"Quite so. I have already done so. I am informed also that you left the hotel regularly each day some time before dawn. I take it you spent every day with Professor Faversham?"

"Yes. We were working together. That is, up to last night. I spent yesterday with Faversham. When I rose to go close to midnight, he volunteered to walk with me to the thoroughfare--the Strand, I believe it is called--where I could take a conveyance. We came out together to the front stoop. There Faversham left me to get his waterproof coat, which was not far down the hall from the front door. I stood on the stoop to wait for him."

"How long did you wait?"

"I should say not quite ten minutes. Then I entered the house and looked for him. I had the open front door within sight at all times. He was not in the alcove, his waterproof coat had not been taken from its hook, he was not in the library, and finally, he was not on the stoop when I returned there. I called him, and my calls attracted the attention of the constable who brought me here tonight. Doubtless you already know his story."