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

"You say you glanced into the library. Could Dr. Faversham have been hiding in that room?"

"That is impossible, sir. If you have seen the room you will realize that the walls present even expanses of booklined shelves. The only object at all large enough to conceal someone is the desk, and that is so placed that from the door fully three sides of it are visible."

Pons nodded. "There is a door leading from the library into an inner room. Could Professor Faversham have passed through this?"

A mirthless smile crossed the German professor's face. "No, no, my dear sir," he replied in an irritated voice. "That door was securely locked. Had you taken the trouble to investigate further, you would have seen that it leads into a narrow closet."

Pons paid no attention to von Ruda's caustic reply. "Of course, my dear Doctor, you realize that there is a flaw of some magnitude in the problem as it is being presented to us?"

"Indeed, Mr. Pons? Perhaps you would like to suggest that I myself made some magic to bring about my friend's disappearance without trace?"

"Nothing so crude, my dear Doctor, nothing so crude," replied Pons, chuckling. "But consider the logic of your statements. You say you had the door in sight every moment; this door is the only available mode of exit from the house. Yet, after having seen Professor Faversham enter the house, and having kept the only usable entrance under observation, you continue to hold that Faversham did not leave this house, in the face of the fact that Faversham is not now in it."

"Overlooking your rambling way of putting it, that is what I maintain."

"Did you look behind the waterproof?" asked Pons suddenly.

"Yes, I did."

"Suppose we wish to assume that Faversham had a reason to disappear. Suppose he were hiding behind the door when you walked down to the alcove. If this were true, could he have stepped from the house at the moment when you looked behind the waterproof?"

The professor's features underwent an almost ludicrous change "If--I say, if that were true, yes, he could."

"Good. Very good!" exclaimed Pons. "We seem to be getting somewhere." He reached over now and picked up Die Philosophie. "Do you recognize this volume, Professor?"

"I do. I gave the book to Dr. Faversham as a Christmas gift in 1921."

"I gathered as much from the inscription." As he replaced the book, Pons asked, "At about what date did you dispatch the gift to Faversham?"

"I think it was sometime in the first week of December, 1921."

Nodding, Pons rose from his chair. "I think that is all, Professor von Ruda."

"And Professor Faversham?" queried the German in his sharp, shrill voice.

"I am ready to produce him," said Pons tranquilly.

With these words he leaned forward easily and with one movement snatched the green spectacles from the face of the German scholar at the same time that he brought away most of the skillfully drawn lines on one side of the face. The fellow was up at a bound, and upon Pons, but Mecker collared him from behind.

"Professor Faversham--at our service," said Pons. To Mecker he added, "You may arrest him on the charge of attempting the embezzlement of ten thousand pounds of the funds of Merk College."

Faversham said nothing, but his eyes were steady in their intentness upon Pons. Pons sat down and drew out his pipe as casually as if he had done nothing unusual.

"My good Faversham," said Pons, "your scheme was too perfect. Your mind worked two paces ahead of the plan. You made your first mistake in this book--" he tapped Die Philosophie--"when you dated a second edition printed in April, 1922, as of Christmas, 1921. Your second error was in the matter of your books. When a man's library is stripped of all books possessing any intrinsic personal value--gift books, books with other pleasant association such as a professor is in a position to receive--it is a safe guess to assume that all such books have been permanently shipped away. Certainly a professor on his leave would not take them along. Where, then, were they, and why were they gone?

"The answer is fairly obvious. You entrenched yourself in the trust of the authorities of the college to such an extent that even now it will be difficult for them to believe in your duplicity. You hoped to vanish completely under suspicion of being the victim of foul play, so that you would not be sought, and then later you could turn up somewhere on the Continent as a respectable middle-aged man--at that place to which you doubtless shipped your books before you went to Scotland.

"On your return then, you registered at the Adelphi as Dr. Hans von Ruda, whom you knew to have been retired from the University of Bonn in 1921, and who would therefore be difficult to locate at short notice. You knew also that inquiry might be made at Bonn, and you were quite safe there. Then, in order to substantiate your friendship, you obtained a copy of von Ruda's book and inadvertently dated the edition five months before it was printed. This you left for us to see--a kind of circumstantial evidence of a friendship which did not exist.