Strange Conflict

by Dennis Wheatley

  Immediately they were alone de Richleau called the others into his room. His face was exceptionally grave as he said:

  ‘God knows, I never imagined for one second that we’d ever be landed in such a hellish mess.’

  ‘Mess?’ repeated Rex. ‘I reckon we’ve had a grand break. The old Doc. seems a decent sort. He couldn’t have been kinder; and this place is the Ritz compared with anything we’d find in that lousy town. Dammit, we were lucky enough to be picked up at all; but to have been picked up by a civilised old crooner, who wants us all to stay with him for keeps, seems super-luck to me.’

  ‘You fool!’ snapped the Duke. ‘Haven’t you realised that the whole of my impedimenta for our protection went down in the plane? We’re in Haiti and our enemy must know that by now. The moment we go to sleep tonight we shall be utterly at the mercy of the evil entity we came here to fight.’

  16

  The Evil Island

  ‘Hell’s bells!’ exclaimed Richard. ‘And I never gave the fact that you’d lost all your protective stuff a thought!’

  ‘I did,’ said Marie Lou. ‘I’ve been worrying about it, on and off, the whole afternoon.’

  Rex pulled a face. ‘Seems, then, that we’re in one helluva jam.’

  De Richleau spoke again with incredible bitterness. ‘Without the things to make a proper pentacle we shall be as defenceless as a group of naked people facing a battery of machine-guns.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d be able to get fresh supplies of most of the things in Port-au-Prince,’ murmured Marie Lou.

  The Duke shook his head. ‘Some of them, perhaps, but when we drove through it quarter of an hour ago you saw what a god-forsaken place it is. Only a herbalist or a first-class chemist could supply many of the items I require, and I doubt if there is either nearer than Kingston.’

  ‘Jamaica’s all of two hundred miles,’ muttered Rex.

  ‘You’re thinking in terms of air travel. By water it must be nearer three hundred.’

  Richard was calculating quickly. ‘If, down at the port, we could get a motor-schooner or a sea-going launch that does fifteen knots, we could make it in twenty hours.’

  ‘Sure,’ agreed Rex. ‘And we’ll get a boat all right. Thank God my wallet was on me when we crashed! Good American dollars will buy anything in this place.’

  ‘They would also buy a plane in Jamaica,’ added the Duke.

  ‘A plane?’ repeated Marie Lou. ‘What for?’

  ‘The return journey,’ he replied quietly. ‘I mean to stay here and face the music while you others go to Kingston to get the things we need; but you must get back at the earliest possible moment, as I dare not sleep for an instant until you rejoin me.’

  ‘Greyeyes, you can’t!’ Marie Lou protested. ‘It would be absolute madness. Even if the rest of us succeeded in getting to Kingston in twenty hours we should need at least four or five hours there to buy the things and get a plane. Then there’s the two-hours flight back. We couldn’t possibly rejoin you much under thirty hours, and you’ve been awake about twelve hours today already. No. We must all leave here as quickly as we can and keep one another from falling asleep until we’re able to erect a pentacle in Kingston.’

  De Richleau gave a faint smile. ‘I think you ought to be able to make better speed than that. There must be boats here which do eighteen knots. If so, you could be in Kingston by one o’clock tomorrow. Four hours should be enough to get the things and two hours for your flight back. Allowing an extra hour for a slip-up somewhere, you’d still be able to rejoin me within twenty-four hours. I’m sorry, Princess; and I know the risk I’m running in taking on those extra few hours before you can return; but I’ve got to stay.’

  ‘In God’s name why?’ boomed Rex.

  ‘Because our enemy cannot be in two places at once, even on the astral. As I’m by far the most powerful among you, it’s certain that he will concentrate all his force against me. If I stay here you’ll have a free run to Jamaica and back and be able to sleep on the way; but if I went with you we should all have to remain awake and sustain another attack from him during the coming night. As he proved powerful enough to wreck our plane this morning, what is there to stop his performing a new magic to churn up the waters and wreck any boat in which the four of us attempted to make the trip?’

  ‘You’re right,’ admitted Richard. ‘If we all go the chances are we’ll all be sunk in one fell swoop, whereas, since you’re the king-pin of the whole party, if you stay here it’s a hundred to one that he won’t have any time to spare for us. But God Almighty! We can’t leave you here alone—it’s unthinkable!’

  De Richleau laid a hand on his arm. ‘It’s got to be, Richard, and I’ll manage to hang out somehow.’

  The others joined Richard in pleading with the Duke to let one of them remain with him, but he was adamant in his refusal and cut short their pleas by pointing out that the sooner they departed the better chance there would be of their getting back before he fell asleep on his feet from sheer exhaustion.

  ‘Don’t waste another moment arguing,’ he urged, ‘but start at once, and I’ll think up some excuse to make to Doctor Saturday for your sudden disappearance.’

  They had no baggage to pack, nothing to collect; only the things they stood up in, Marie Lou’s dressing-case and Richard’s satchel. All of them now realised the imperative necessity for not losing a single instant. The Duke swiftly scribbled a list of the eleven items that he required and handed it to Richard. Then, hiding their forebodings for their beloved leader as well as they could, they said goodbye to him and, leaving the room by the wire-gauze doors that gave on to the verandah, set off on their quarter of an hour’s walk down to the town.

  It was just on eight o’clock. Full night had come, and de Richleau stood there staring after them through the soft, velvety, tropical darkness. The tree-frogs had started their nightly chorus in the branches of a great banyan tree which stood before the house and fireflies were flitting through the bushes. There was not even a ripple of wind, and against the purple sky the black-etched palm-fronds hung in graceful tranquillity. The warm dusk was filled with the scent of the moonflowers which were opening in the garden and the stars were coming out in the heavens above the bay.

  Below him in the distance the lights of Port-au-Prince twinkled, turning it from a squalid, evil-smelling dump into a fairy city. The night scene was one of calm, untroubled beauty, but de Richleau knew that it was fraught with deadly evil. Somewhere far away a drum was beating, swiftly, rhythmically, calling upon one of the cruel, lustful Voodoo gods in a ceremony that was as old as Time. The island seemed at peace but the Duke’s sensitiveness to spiritual atmospheres told him that the whole dark vista positively reeked of evil emanations and primitive, sensual urges.

  A slight shiver ran through him and, pulling himself together, he turned away, feeling that he would need every ounce of resolution that he could muster for the ordeal which he was called upon to face. He knew that as long as he could keep awake he was safe from all except physical attack, and he did not think it likely that his adversary would attempt to murder him, at all events for the time being. But thirty-seven hours was a long time to keep not only awake but alert. He had already been through an exceptionally tiring day, yet that had carried him over less than a third of the period. He would have to remain on the physical plane, conscious and ready to cope with any emergency, until eight o’clock the following night. Worse: he had glibly announced that it would be easy for Rex to hire a plane in Kingston for the return journey—but would it?

  The Jamaican capital was linked by air-routes with the other principal islands of the West Indies and with the United States, but all Rex’s dollars would not enable him to buy or hire any of the machines that were actually in service; and Kingston was not a very big place, where one could just drive up to the airport and charter a private plane at half an hour’s notice. To get a plane at all, he would probably have to find a private owner who was willing to hire or sell. That
would mean time spent in locating such a man and persuading him to do a deal.

  If they failed to secure a plane by six o’clock, at the latest, they would not be able to get back to Haiti before dark, and there were no night-landing facilities at Port-au-Prince. That would necessitate the postponement of their return until they could land by the early-morning light, and for the Duke it would mean nearly forty-eight consecutive hours without sleep. He had known that risk when he had sent them, but it was a grim thought to contemplate afresh now that he was alone.

  Then again, it was not altogether certain that the enemy would allow the others to accomplish their journey without interference. The Duke had had to risk that; he had felt that it was better that they should take a chance than that all of them should remain helpless in Haiti, to be overwhelmed; and he was reasonably confident that the enemy would continue to lie in wait hour after hour ready to pounce upon him the second that he dropped asleep. But there was no guarantee that this would be so, and his fears as to what might happen to his friends out there on the dark waters, should he prove wrong, gave him even greater concern than his own desperate situation.

  However, one of de Richleau’s greatest qualities was fortitude in adversity, and he tried to comfort himself with the thought that whatever ghastly trials might be in store for himself or his friends the Powers of Light are greater than the Powers of Darkness and that, therefore, if only they endured, without wavering, all that was sent to them, even though they lost their Earth lives in this grim, weaponless battle, their endeavours and defiance of Evil would be accounted to them in those true lives which they could not lose—because they are everlasting.

  He would have given a lot to have been able to have a hot shower, both to cleanse himself from the dirt and dust of the day and to refresh himself mentally, but his burns were too bad for him to dare to do so; he knew from experience that nothing was better calculated to aggravate the pain of severe sunburn, so on going to the bathroom he had to content himself with washing his hands and gently dabbing at his red face.

  When he returned to his room he paused in the doorway, in astonished consternation. Marie Lou was sitting on the edge of his bed.

  His grey eyes bored into hers and he snapped in a tone which she had never before heard him use to her. ‘Why have you come back?’

  She shook her head a little helplessly. ‘Don’t be angry with me, Greyeyes dear; I had to.’

  ‘Why have you come back?’ he repeated.

  She spread out her small hands. ‘When one’s already been awake for thirteen hours, another twenty-four is a very long time, and we both know that it may be much longer than that before the trip to Kingston and back can be accomplished. One person alone would be almost certain to fall asleep, but two people might manage to keep each other awake. By tomorrow afternoon you’ll be feeling like death, and by the evening you would have been sitting on your own, hour after hour, in this room, absolutely aching to close your eyes; so—so I decided to come back and keep you company.’

  ‘What did Richard say to that?’ he asked sharply.

  ‘Naturally he loathed the idea of my being separated from him at such a time, but he said that I was right—and I am right—you know it, Greyeyes. We always have worked as a team; and to go on that way is our only chance of pulling through. I couldn’t be of the least help to the others; but I can be to you; and it’s too late to try to pack me off after them, because by now they’ll be preparing to leave the port. God knows what will happen to us, but whatever we have to face we’ll see this thing through together.’

  De Richleau’s expression suddenly changed and his voice was very soft as he took her hand and kissed it. ‘Bless you, Princess, for your splendid courage. I owe a great debt to Richard, too, for his marvellous unselfishness in letting you leave him. You’re right, of course, about our being able to keep each other awake, and the very fact of my having you with me will redouble my determination not to give in.’

  She stood up and kissed his cheek, then she said: ‘I wonder what’s happened to Simon and Philippa? I’ve been terribly worried about them all the afternoon.’

  ‘I don’t think we need worry overmuch,’ the Duke replied. ‘As I told you just before Doctor Saturday picked us up, I know that they reached the shore in safety. I don’t suppose that big island is very highly populated, and they probably had to walk some miles along the beach before they came to a village where they could get a fishing-boat to come out and look for us. If that happened it would have been extremely difficult for them to find the plane again, even if it was still floating, by the time they got out there. In consequence they’ve got much more cause to worry about us and by now they probably think that all four of us are drowned.’

  ‘D’you think the enemy is likely to attack them tonight, though?’

  ‘No. For one thing, as he probably doesn’t even know yet that they left our main party, he’d find it far from easy to locate them; and for another, it’s pretty certain that he’ll concentrate on us. Fortunately Philippa understands the language, so with her to write down what Simon has to say, the two of them ought to be able to secure food and shelter without much trouble. It may be some days before they hear that we were rescued, but they’re sure to learn of that in due course and manage to join us somehow.’

  He refrained from adding: ‘If we are here to join,’ but Marie Lou was quite as conscious of that eventuality as he was, so she promptly changed the subject and asked:

  ‘What are we going to do about Doctor Saturday? He’ll soon be coming along to find out what has happened to us. How’re we going to explain the disappearance of Richard and Rex?’

  ‘I was thinking about that while I was washing just now— which reminds me to tell you that you mustn’t have a bath however much you may want one, as it would make the pain of your burns almost unendurable. Saturday seems a very decent sort of fellow, and as he’s an educated man it’s hardly likely that he indulges in the practice of Voodoo; but it’s all Lombard Street to a China orange that most of his house-boys are devotees of the cult.

  ‘Through one of them our enemy may already have been informed of our arrival here, and it’s important that we should prevent his learning—via any such human source, at least—that Richard and Rex have left the island. Fortunately we didn’t give the Doctor our right names or any particulars about ourselves so it didn’t transpire that you and Richard are married; so this is what I propose to tell him:

  ‘I shall say that although all four of us were travelling together, that was only a matter of convenience as actually we are two separate parties. We’ll adopt what Philippa told us of her uncle and herself. I am a scientist interested in native customs, and you are my niece. About the other two we don’t know very much, except that they’re engaged in some form of activity to do with the war—in connection, we think, with preventing German submarines from occupying bases in the West Indian islands. In any case, they asked us to make their excuses to the Doctor because it was important that they should see the British Consul here with the least possible delay, so they’ve gone down to the town to find him.

  ‘When they don’t turn up again it will be assumed that they’re spending the night with the Consul, and the fact that they’re not doing so can’t be checked up, because I noticed that there is no telephone here. When they fail to appear or to send a message it will look like very bad manners, but there won’t be anything that the Doctor can do about it, and when they do return we can put them up to making the right sort of explanations and apologies.’

  ‘Seeing how important it is that our enemy shouldn’t learn through the house-boys that they’ve gone off in a boat and spend any of his time attempting to find and destroy it, I think that’s an excellent story,’ declared Marie Lou.

  ‘Good.’ The Duke raised a smile. ‘Then my beautiful niece had better tidy herself up, and we’ll go along and tell our host that the number of his guests has unexpectedly been halved.’

  Many of the thi
ngs in Marie Lou’s dressing-case had been ruined by the salt water but others had dried stiff in the sunshine, so she was able to improve her appearance with them. All the same, she was sadly worried at the redness of her broad forehead and small nose, knowing that although she had done her utmost to protect them they had caught the sun to such an extent that they were certain to peel, and she would look a sight for at least a fortnight. Then she caught herself up and gave a grim little smile at her reflection in the mirror. If her true self was still connected with her present body in a fortnight’s time it was virtually certain that they would have succeeded in their mission and would be on their way back to England, but at the moment it seemed as though all the odds were that when she next left her body she would never be allowed to return to it and that within forty-eight hours it would be a rapidly corrupting piece of rubbish.

  Such a possibility was not at all a frightening one for her, as she had no fear of death. It was, she knew, only a waking-up to a far fuller and more vivid existence, but the thought that her present incarnation might be within a few hours of its close saddened her greatly. Blessings and happiness in it had fallen to her far beyond the lot of most young women. She had derived great joy from her beautiful little body and was exceedingly loath to part with it. But far beyond this, there was Fleur, who would be left motherless in England; and her adored Richard, whom the Fates might decree should live on alone and be separated from her, except for very occasional meetings on the astral—since it is written that the departed shall not seek to occupy the minds of those who remain and that the bereaved shall not strive to call back those who have gone on.