Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 03

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by The Golden Spaniard


  Cristoval felt no twinge of jealousy. Lucretia’s acquaintance with Richard was clearly a casual one and he, apparently, was only the pleasant sort of fool that no woman of her attributes could possibly become interested in. If Cristoval had met that many-gifted Pocket Venus, the Princess Marie-Lou, he would have had cause to think differently, but Richard played his part well without overdoing it and the Spaniard took an immediate liking to him. The fact that he was on such friendly terms with his old servant, too, showed him to be a decent fellow.

  The ‘servant’ was a little diffident at first but once he found that they were all good Democrats he became ‘the life and soul of the party.’ The only thing upon which he was serious, as became a sound member of the French Fronte Populaire, was politics. He had no quarrel with Richard, saving his presence, but he was. anti-clerical, anti-capitalist, and anti-conscription to an almost fanatical degree.

  Lucretia-José was enchanted. She could have grown sick with laughter, if she had let herself go, at the spectacle of this Grand Seigneur, dressed as a mountebank, propounding these strange doctrines.

  In deference to Richard the conversation was conducted mainly in English and time drifted on unheeded as they talked of the political situation. Cristoval had now apparently accepted the two strangers as sympathizers on the grounds of Richard’s intimate friendship with Simon Aron and ‘Comrade’ Dubois’ advanced views. Without touching on any confidential matters the young Spanish Trade-Unionist spoke his mind quite freely. The army was plotting again. Up to its old dirty tricks. But when they sprang their mine they would get one hell of a surprise.

  “But how,” asked Richard, “can the man in the street, who wants a fair deal, possibly win out against well-armed troops?”

  Cristoval shrugged. “That we have machine-guns too—it is no secret—and thousands of good fellows made trained to use them. The reason we come out on top, though, is that within a week of, as you say, the balloon going up, the other side fight among themselves. The army, in no land, can override a whole people. Not unless it has a big part of the people behind it. Of our top-dog Generals not one wants the Monarchy back and nobody of them is Fascist. Whom can they make reliance on? The Renovacion Española?—that is a Monarchist organization. The Fascista—what we call Falangists here?—they have no like for army chiefs or Monarchists either. The Action Popular—Gil Robles’ old Catholic Party?—two-thirds of them are Republicans and they make daggers drawn at the Falangists of the young de Rivera. In Navarre the Carlists are strong—yes, but they want their own pretender as King; for the Renovacion Española and Alfonso’s family they have no use at all. The Lliga?—pouff! They are nothing now—and have interest only in Catalonia. So there you see! The army itself is split plenty in all these factions. Also many of the less high officers and battalions of infantry are with us. The Generals—they cannot win, I tell you. They will be shot—and a good thing too.”

  Quite unwittingly the young Socialist had expressed the Duke’s own fears and that was why he had taken such intricate measures to secret Lucretia-José’s great horde of gold. It was that gold he wanted to talk to her about, and although it was now nearly one o’clock in the morning he had no intention of breaking up the party; on the contrary, he was determined to keep it going until some chance enabled him to get a few words alone with her.

  Richard was contesting Cristoval’s statement. “What about this chap Calvo Sotelo?” he asked. “They say he’s a pretty shrewd bird and that all the parties of the Right might be willing to sink their differences until they’d got the Left well under, if he was appointed Dictator.”

  “Si, si,” Cristoval agreed. “He is a real danger—that one. The fools have a trust in him and will not believe us that he is a rogue. He is Falangist but only moderate Falangist—you understand. All parties of the Right and half our people also believe they get fair deal if Sotelo becomes head of new Government. That man—he is the greatest enemy to Democracy in Spain.”

  De Richleau brought the conversation back to lighter topics. Saving the Señorita’s presence, he said, he was a Frenchman, old now, alas, but still young enough to take pleasure in youthful beauty. Did the Señorita herself think that, apart from her own loveliness, the ladies of Spain could compare with the ladies of France? He was a stranger in Madrid. He had seen a few pretty girls in the streets but he would be interested to have her honest opinion.

  Lucretia played up without batting an eyelid. “That’s a challenge we can’t ignore,” she cried, and added in Spanish to Cristoval, “Let’s take them along to the Alhambra.”

  “You don’t want to go to that sort of place,” he demurred quickly.

  “Why not?” she contended.

  “Well, it’s full of tarts.”

  “What’s that matter as long as they’re pretty ones?” she laughed. “To hear you talk anyone would think we were back in the dreary old days of the Monarchy. Plenty of respectable women go to all the night-clubs now. I shall be with you and we can have a box. Come on. Let’s show them the sights. That’s the least we can do for strangers in Madrid.”

  “All right, if you wish it,” he agreed at once. “I shall have to leave you, though, a little after two, because there is something on to-night and I have been warned to report at the office at half-past. Still, I won’t be gone more than an hour and you’ll be all right with them till I can get back and fetch you.”

  De Richleau’s hope had been that if he could get them to a dance place Cristoval might meet acquaintances who would occupy him for a few minutes, but having understood the whole conversation which had just taken place he was overjoyed to know that the Spaniard would be definitely out of the way for so long.

  They picked up a taxi outside and drove to the Alhambra. Having passed through the vestibule they entered a large, lofty room, half dancing-hall, half theatre. There was a stage at one end now occupied by a dance-band, three tiers of boxes running round the sides, and tables below them on the floor, only the centre of which was used for dancing.

  When they were shown to a box in the second tier Richard quickly secured the carte des vins from the waiter, but Cristoval insisted on playing host. “In Spain,” he said, “it is never permit for visitors to pay. Order, please, champagne, also anything else you would like. We do not have to drink the champagne but without it they refuse to us the box.”

  Seeing that Bollinger was not priced higher than most of the other brands on the list Richard ordered a bottle and he was somewhat surprised when De Richleau asked for a brandy and soda. Enlightenment came when the champagne arrived. It bore the name of Bollinger but had a green stripe right across its label. Rather unhappily Richard settled down to drink his quota of its sweetish, fizzy contents which had little resemblance to the magnificent cuvées he associated with the famous cellars at Ay. He consoled himself with scanning the occupants of the place.

  It was fairly full. There were quite a number of officers in uniform but only half a dozen men in dinner-jackets, the rest were in lounge suits. None of the women was in evening dress but a good number were hatless and wore pretty afternoon frocks. Those ladies of the town who were unoccupied could be distinguished by the fact that they had no male escorts and sat about in couples; the more expensively dressed pairs refraining from taking the floor and remaining in their private boxes. Richard noticed that none of the men ever went up to the girls and asked them to dance. Instead waiters brought little notes of invitation to the favoured ones and pointed out their senders, upon which the lady in question took a quick glance at her would-be partner and looked away again or, if she liked his appearance, beckoned him over. It seemed a very civilized way of transacting such matters.

  Cristoval took Lucretia-José down to dance. “They’re a good-looking couple,” Richard remarked, “but it’s a pity he’s so short.”

  “I wouldn’t say he’s short,” replied the Duke. “It’s she who is on the tall side for a woman. She’s about five eight I should think, and she carries herself magnifice
ntly which makes her appear even taller. By Jove! She is attractive.”

  De Richleau’s gaze was riveted on Lucretia. Richard said no more but glanced at his companion with mingled curiosity and apprehension. Women of all ages often found the Duke attractive but it was rare for him to express more than an academic appreciation of female loveliness. Something in his tone recalled to Richard the words of the song from the ‘Maid of the Mountains’ “And when he thinks he’s past love—it is then he finds his last love—and he loves her as he’s never loved before.” He hoped with all his heart that De Richleau was not going to complicate matters by developing a sudden and uncontrollable passion for the beautiful Golden Spaniard.

  By two o’clock the place had filled up. Hardly a box remained unoccupied and there were few vacant tables left on the floor. The Duke and the Trade Unionist were deep in politics again. Under pretence of enthusiasm for the cause De Richleau was making the most of the opportunity to get all the information he could. Where were the Unions strongest? he asked. Would the Anarchist C.N.T. co-operate with them? Where was the Army expected to strike first? When did Cristoval think the blow would fall?

  “That we would like to know,” Cristoval smiled. “It was to have been June. The new class conscripts come in then— the old class are made free. New ones would not be so much— what you say—under the influence of the officers, as the old. Then we learn it is postpone till August. But now, the date, we believe it is advance again. No matter. We have had time enough. We are ready. The first big move, it is planned for to-night. What it is I do not know. But it is we who make it. We wait no more but strike to defend our liberties.”

  As he finished speaking he stood up. “You excuse, please, I go now. Later I return. It may be that I have interesting news.”

  He had been sitting beside and partly behind Lucretia so when he had gone De Richleau took the vacant chair. By moving it a little further back he was able to arrange himself so that his head was not visible even to the people in the boxes opposite. He knew that Madrid was swarming with political agents and spies from all over Europe and he had no intention of giving one of them the chance of learning what he was about to say through lip-reading.

  “Don’t turn your head but listen,” he said quietly. “Now and again make a remark to Richard so that if anybody outside is watching it will look as if you’re carrying on a conversation with him.”

  While a disjointed and almost meaningless exchange of sentences passed between the two younger people the Duke’s voice went on in a smooth low monologue. Lucretia-José listened intently to the full and clear account of all that her friends had done since they had arrived in Madrid.

  When he had finished De Richleau picked up one of the paper fans that the waiter had placed on the table beside the champagne cooler and handed it to her. She knew quite enough of such matters to appreciate the meaning of the gesture and, opening it, began gently to fan herself so that the lower part of her face could not be seen from outside the box.

  “You have been very clever,” she said, “and very wonderful. That day when I saw you in London I knew in my heart that I could not have chosen better. I thank you both and Spain will thank you when what you have done can be revealed publicly. The Reds are not only buying rifles, hand-grenades and machine-guns now, but also aeroplanes. I have proof of it. That gold might have been used to buy planes and bombs to destroy thousands of Spanish homes.”

  “I’m afraid we’re not out of the wood yet,” murmured the Duke. “We’ve only got it as far as the cellars of your Palace. We’ve got to transport it to the factory out at Valmojado.”

  “How do you intend to do that?”

  “It’s such a colossal weight that we can’t do it without help —that’s the trouble. I need six lorries and at least thirty trustworthy men.”

  “When do you want them?”

  “The sooner the better.”

  “You shall have them to-morrow night. After midnight it is fairly quiet in the quarter of the city where the Palace is. I will have them report to you at twelve-thirty.”

  “Good. I felt sure you would be able to arrange something if only I could get hold of you. Who will these men be?”

  “Officers whose loyalty will be beyond question, dressed in civilian clothes. I shall have fifty of them especially picked for the job. More would only get in each others’ way but it’s important that the lorries should be loaded up and on the move with the least possible delay. Someone high up will also see that a squad of the Guardia Civile closes the ends of the street while loading is in progress.”

  “Admirable. Now. The size of these boxes is fifteen inches long by eight broad by eight deep. Fifteen by eight by eight, and each has two iron hoops round it. There are two hundred and three of them. Do you think you can get me a set of duplicates made during the day?”

  “They will have to be if you wish it. Those who are directing know that it is more important to protect the safety of this bullion than to secure the allegiance of half the Spanish Air Force. The bulk of it is not with us but their planes are obsolete and every obstacle must be put in their way which will hamper them in buying new ones. What do you wish done with the duplicate set of boxes?”

  “Have them filled with cement and nailed down. The same six lorries can pick them up in the morning on their return from delivering the bullion at the factory. I will issue further instructions about them then.”

  “That shall be done. I gather that you have not visited the factory yet?”

  “No. We go out in the morning to take over. And there’s another thing I want you to do for me. See what information you can get about the men who are employed there. Nearly every man in Spain is registered as a member of some sort of Party now. There are almost certain to be a few Falangists or strong Catholics amongst them. I must have their names and anything else you can let me know of their records.”

  “I can get that through the local organizations.”

  “One more thing. Where are you living, and would it be dangerous to get in touch with you if we need further assistance?”

  “The Reds knows me as José Levida, an Anarchist who has just sufficient money to support herself and devote all her time to working for the Revolution. I have a small apartment in a large block of better-class workers’ dwellings near the Hippodrome. I chose it because people are coming and going at all hours of the day and night. The address is Rios Rosas No. 33 and the number of my apartment is 17. I am also on the telephone, 27064. Can you remember that?”

  “Rios Rosas No. 33, Flat 17 and ’phone 27064,” the Duke repeated. “I shall not forget.”

  “As to getting in touch with me,” she went on, “I see no reason at all why you shouldn’t now. It would be best if we were not seen together often, but since you’ve established yourselves so cleverly as Red sympathizers there will be no danger in our greeting each other openly if we meet. Be very careful what you say if you telephone me, though. All sorts of people are tapping the line these days to pick up what they can and nearly every operator on the exchange is working for one party or another.”

  “Good. That’s settled, then. What do you wish me to do about your caretaker, Pédro?”

  “Give him plenty of drink from the cellar but keep him a prisoner.”

  “Right. Now, what is the latest information about the rising?”

  “Cristoval was right. We have advanced our date again. Even I do not know the exact hour but operations will commence within five or six days from now.”

  “Thank God we’ll have that bullion safely salted down by then. There seems a risk, though, that the Reds may beat you to it. I saw two—er—people I know in England who’re on their side in the street this afternoon. Originally they told me they were going abroad in the first week of August but they didn’t say where. The fact that they’ve turned up here in mid-July proves things are getting pretty warm.”

  “You mean Simon Aron and the big American, Rex Van Ryn—don’t you? Though how you knew t
hat I’d been to Mr. Aran’s house has been puzzling me all the evening.”

  “I was with him at the time and saw you coming up the garden path through one of the front windows. It didn’t need any great intelligence to guess what you were up to there. What have Simon and Rex come out here for—do you know?”

  “Something to do with money. Mr. Aron is acting in an advisory capacity to the Red Finance Council.”

  “Keep your eye on him if you can. Rex is not dangerous but Simon’s as clever as a cartload of monkeys and as slippery as an eel. I’d rather be up against ten Generals or Trade Union leaders than have to pit my wits against Simon on his own ground.”

  “You know him well, it seems?”

  “I know and love both of them. They are the other two of the three men your father told you about who were in Russia with me, and there is a request I have to make to you. Thwart their activities if you can but I beg you—and I would still beg you if they brought about my death—to use your utmost influence to protect them from your Monarchist or Fascist friends. If they fall into the hands of the Army leaders have them deported but see to it that no harm befalls them.”

  “Once things start to happen it may not be easy to keep in touch with them but for your sake I will gladly do everything I can to ensure their safety.”

  “Thank you. It seems that things are starting to happen already. You heard what Cristoval Ventura said about the Reds’ first blow being struck to-night. Have you any idea what he was referring to?”

  “None, unfortunately. I only know that it will not be a general rising.”

  “Do you believe there is anything in his theory that the parties of the Right will be brought to destruction by fighting among themselves?”

  “No. There are admittedly wide differences in their views about the future of the country but in this emergency our only hope was to combine against the Red menace. All the important leaders have sworn a solemn oath to accept the orders of Calvo Sotelo and his advisers for the salvation of National and Catholic Spain.”

 

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