The Satanist mf-2

by Dennis Wheatley

  'Did you question him about it?'

  Wash ran a hand through his almost white hair before he replied in the same hushed, conspiratorial voice, 'Nope. My Satanic name's not Twisting Snake for nothing. Times are when it pays best to let the other feller think he's got away with playing you for a sap. He's more like to show his hand then. Gives you a better chance of saying snap.'

  'Have you any idea where he might mean to send the rocket?'

  'I had one notion. It can't be right, though. Doesn't make sense. Yet if I were right you and I have got no future. I'd give a mighty fat wad to be a hundred-per-cent certain that I'm wrong.'

  'I think you could, without much difficulty.'

  He gave her a quick look. 'Tell, honey.'

  'While you were all working this morning I explored the whole place pretty thoroughly. Near the far end of the tunnel he has an office. There are maps on the walls and papers scattered over the desk. All his calculations must be there somewhere. If you could get in...'

  'That's certainly an idea. Wonder if he keeps it locked.'

  'As he doesn't bother to lock it in the daytime, I don't see why he should at night. Up here there is certainly no risk of burglars.'

  'Sure, honey, sure.' Wash gave a sudden grin. 'Then we'll go along presently and have a look-see. Whether he ever sleeps or not I wouldn't know, but there's Mirkoss and the cook, so we'd best give the place a chance to settle down.'

  For another hour and a half they continued sitting at the table, occasionally exchanging a remark or taking a sip of the Apricot Brandy, then Wash stood up and said in a whisper, 'Let's get weaving. Go quiet as you can. I'll follow you. Pull up on the outer curve of the tunnel ten yards before you come to his office. Point it out to me as I pass, then keep your eyes and ears on stalks. Anyone coming don't cough; just start walking on again natural. I trained my hearing young on the prairie, so I'll catch your footfalls and be out alongside you time you come opposite the office door. Then if its the Big Chief I'll tell him I was taking you to have a sight of the rocket in the moonlight. O.K.?'

  She nodded and he followed her out. The lights along the roof of the tunnel were kept on night and day, and in all the cabins there were pilot lights that gave out a faint blue radiance, like those in the sleepers of International Pullman cars. Very quietly they walked down two-thirds of the length of the tunnel, then she halted and followed his instructions. The door of the office was not locked and he was in there a good ten minutes. To her it seemed an interminable time as she strained her ears for approaching footsteps, and her eyes into the semi-gloom behind her. But at last he emerged, and closed the door gently after him.

  Taking her arm, and still walking softly, without uttering a word he led her back to the dining cabin. There, in the brighter light, she saw that his normally ruddy face had gone a queer shade of grey, and that his black eyes held a murderous glint.

  'Well,' she asked in a whisper.

  He sat down heavily, and muttered, 'What I thought a crazy idea was right. It's all worked out there. He's aiming to put it on Moscow.'

  At first Mary did not realize the full implications, so she said, 'I can't help feeling sorry for the Russians; but thank God it's not London.'

  For a moment he stared at her then, his voice still low, he broke into a tense spate of words, 'Be your age, woman! The Russians will take it that the West launched the rocket at them. They'll not wait to ask questions. They'll think we've tried to shoot 'em sitting down. Before what's left of Moscow's gone up in smoke they'll press the button. Within twenty minutes New York, Washington, Pittsburg, Detroit will be just heaps of poisonous ruins-and London too. The West will react with all its got; land-based rockets, rockets from subs and cruisers, H bombs from aircraft. Russia's got subs, cruisers and long-range aircraft too -plenty. I'd give it three days, and every city west of a line Urals, Persia, India will have had it. Tens of millions dead, hundreds of millions dying; the whole of civilization as we know it to hell and gone.'

  'Oh God!' she breathed, 'Oh God! Somehow we must stop it!'

  'That's easy to say; but you know the man we're up against. I'd never be able to argue him out of anything he's set on.'

  'But why, why does he want to do this frightful thing?'

  'I'd hazard a guess. Another hunch. But things he's said fit into the picture. He knows that Russian Communism isn't Communism any more. The Soviet is reverting to a bourgeois state. I'd seen that one for myself. It's why I figured it to be the best bet as a place to spend the rest of my life in ease and plenty. But it's no longer good soil for sowing the seeds of the Old religion. And that's all the Great Ram gives a cuss about. "Do what thou wilt shall be the Whole of the Law." As long as there's settled Governments, doing that means risking a stretch in prison. But with a state of universal anarchy; well, ask yourself? Our Lord Satan would come into his own again in a real big way, wouldn't he?'

  Suddenly Mary's blue eyes lit up and she stormed at him, 'It's you who are to blame for this! It's you who have made this horror possible! You let him fool you into giving him your bloody bomb. He is a real Satanist. You are not, any more than I am. You've just made use of the cult because it suits you. You only wanted rich living for yourself; to loll around on the profits of girls you have forced into prostitution; to listen to music while fine food is being prepared for you, then take your fill of drink and women.'

  For a moment she thought he was going to strike her. But instead he gave himself a quick shake, then seemed to sag, and admitted, 'Maybe you've got something there. The Old Faith is the right one though. Prince Lucifer is the Lord of this World, and those who serve him come out tops.'

  'Do they?' she countered hotly. 'Then what about yourself? Instead of being a Hero of the Soviet Union this time next week, you'll either be dead or trying to catch a stray dog to eat.'

  'There's no going back on what's done,' he muttered miserably. 'It's by Our Lord Satan's will that it should be this way, and we've just got to take it.'

  'No.' Mary stamped her foot. 'You can save yourself and countless innocent people. You must sabotage that rocket.'

  'I can't. I wouldn't dare,' he protested. 'Just think what I'd let myself in for. If I threw a spanner in Our Lord Satan's work I'd be whipped down to Hell and slow roast while a thousand devils nipped bits off me till the world goes cold.'

  'There is a power greater than Satan's that would protect you.'

  'Maybe that's what you think. But no one's ever proved it.'

  'Yes. I have. You saw me throw that crucifix. It was only a little thing of wood and ivory; but look what it did to your Great Ram. It rendered him as weak as water. For ten minutes he hadn't the power left to harm a rabbit.'

  Wash's dark eyes opened in wonder. 'That's true,' he murmured. 'Sure, I saw it happen. Somehow I'd never thought of it like that.'

  'Think of it now then. If the Powers of Good can intervene to save an individual, what wouldn't they do to protect a man who saved all humanity? Wash, you must sabotage this rocket. It's your great chance to make a come-back. Every evil thing you've

  � ever done will be forgiven. You could sabotage it, couldn't you?' He considered for a minute. 'Yeah. Not completely. Now it's been erected I couldn't get at the war-head. But I could drill a small hole in the casing, that wouldn't be spotted. Be large enough though to cause the fuel to leak when it jerked into flight. That'd ensure it coming down somewhere this side of the Iron Curtain.'

  With a sudden uplift of the heart Mary realized that he was on the brink of surrendering to her. Grasping him by the arms she pulled him to his feet, gave him a quick kiss on the mouth, and cried, 'Come on then! What are we waiting for?�

  As though in a daze he let her pull him out of the cabin. Side by side they tiptoed down the tunnel. When they reached its far end he seemed to have got his wits about him again and to have made up his mind to take the desperate gamble she had urged upon him. As they came level with the pile of fuel drums he said hoarsely,

  'Get in among tho
se. Keep watch for me. If you hear anyone coming tap lightly on one of the drums. Stay there till they've passed you, then sneak back to your cabin. If there has to be a show-down I'd as lief have you out of it.'

  She pressed his hand and let him go forward, while she crouched down among the drums in a position where she was hidden by deep shadow but could see in both directions. To her left was the empty, dimly lighted curve of the lofty tunnel, to her right and thirty feet away the out-jutting platform of rock with the rocket now standing upright among its vaguely-seen tangle of launching gear.

  Beyond it was darkness. Cloud had come down blotting out the stars, and wisps of grey mist swirled about the entrance to the cave. To the right the forge still glowed dully. She saw Wash go into the shed where it stood. For some minutes he remained there, presumably selecting the right tools for the job. While she crouched among the drums she prayed frantically. At last he reappeared. As he walked towards the rocket she turned to look in the opposite direction. Unheard by her a figure had come into view. Her heart missed a beat. Only twenty yards away, with silent tread, the Great Ram was approaching.

  CHAPTER XXV RACE AGAINST TIME

  For a moment the four men in Colonel Verney's office remained stunned by the appalling conclusion they had come to about Lothar's intentions. Then C.B. pressed the switch of his inter-com and said to his P.A. 'Get me No. 10. I want one of the P.M.'s secretaries. On my other line get me one of the Staff Officers of the Chief of Defence. Then get the United States Embassy. All calls top priority.'

  In barely a minute the first call came through. C.B. recognized

  the voice at the other end. 'George, I've got to see the Prime___'

  'He is just going in to Cabinet.' 'Then you must hold him for me. Safety of the Realm. A further development of the theft of the secret rocket fuel that I reported to him last week, and a matter of the utmost urgency. I'm coming round at once.'

  The second telephone was already buzzing. He picked it up. 'Who's that?''. .. Oh Stanforth, is your Master in the Office?' '. . . Good. I'm sending a Mr. Sullivan round to see him. Whatever he is doing he must break it off to hear a verbal report concerning the Safety of the Realm. Nothing, repeat nothing, must interfere with your Master's seeing Sullivan at once.'

  The first telephone was buzzing again. C.B. gestured to Richter. 'That'll be your Embassy. Over to you.' The American took the call and arranged for an immediate interview with his Ambassador.

  Barney had left the room. Now he came back and said, 'I've ordered your car round, Sir. It'll be here in a minute.'

  THE SATANIST

  C.B. nodded. 'We'll go together. While I'm seeing the Prime Minister, you will put the Chief of Defence fully in the picture and warn him that the P.M. is certain to want him round at No. 10 by the time you have said your piece.' Turning to Richter he added, 'When we are through with reporting we had better rendezvous here to inform each other of reactions. I'll probably be asked to attend a Cabinet. If so, it may be midday before I'm back. But none of us can do any more until we know what decision has been taken on the highest level.'

  'Do you wish me to stay here?' Otto asked.

  'Yes, you will have this office to yourself. Try to get into touch with Lothar again, and do your damnedest to find out whereabouts in Switzerland this cave is situated.' As Verney spoke he was already hurrying from the room, followed by Richter and Barney.

  Two minutes later the American jumped into his Cadillac, and the other two set off for Storey's Gate. There they separated, Verney going through the back way into Downing Street, and Barney into the Ministry of Defence.

  Barney was first back. In the P.A.'s office he found Inspector Thompson waiting to see his Chief. Unaware of the possibility that London might be blown to smithereens before the day was out, the Inspector was in high good humour. When they had exchanged greetings he said:

  'I've fixed things for Tom Ruddy. He's back in the fight again.'

  'Ruddy,' Barney repeated vaguely; then with an effort he brought his mind back to his work of the past two months, which now seemed to have little significance.

  'Yes,' the Inspector went on, 'when we raided the place at Cremorne we found a score or more other photographs; different people, of course, but similar to the one they took of him. Last night I went down to Ruddy's place and had a talk with him. I suggested that he should show the whole lot to his missus, including the one of himself and Mrs. Morden, and that I'd vouch for it to her that the whole lot were fakes - composite photographs blended together by a gang of ordinary crooks for blackmail purposes. He agreed, and the old girl swallowed it. So he's standing again and I've not a doubt that he'll be elected as the new boss of his Union.'

  'Well done,' Barney murmured. 'How about the bunch of Satanists you pulled in?'

  The Inspector grinned. 'Oh boy, what a haul! A strangler who's been on the wanted list for five years, a bank-note forger whose goods we found in his wallet when we collected their clothes, a Czech secret agent that we didn't know was in the country, and a publisher who has distributed more poisonous literature than the Communist H.Q. itself. The rest of them are just degenerates, mostly rich people and well known. Now we've had a chance to check up we've found that it was them and the people in the blackmail photographs who have been paying the fat cheques into the so-called "Workers' Benevolent Institution". So this is going to put an end to one of the biggest sources of the funds used to sabotage British industry.'

  'If a lot of them are important people this is going to create a first-class scandal,' Barney remarked.

  'It certainly will,' Thompson agreed. 'I've a feeling, though, that the Home Office may decide to play down the Black Magic side of it, because there are names involved that might shake the public's confidence in a variety of national interests. It's probable that the bulk of them will get away with loss of reputation on conviction of simply being concerned in obscene practices.'

  'But, damn it all, some of them are Tony Morden's murderers.'

  'Naturally, we are going into that, and we shall move heaven and earth to get the goods on those who were concerned in it.'

  'We've got the goods already. I brought back from Cambridgeshire a tape recording of a conversation between Mrs. Morden and a Colonel Washington. In it he gave her the Satanic names of the actual murderers and a description of the murder. Among the documents you seized at Cremorne you will find the Lodge's membership book. You have only to look through it to get the real names of those the Colonel mentioned by their Satanic ones.'

  'That's splendid news.' The Inspector rubbed his hands. 'Like the strangler and our other beauties, they will be dealt with separately, of course. It will be necessary to take special measures, though. Much of the evidence will have to be supplied by your department, so it is certain that Colonel Verney will ask for these cases to be tried in camera.'

  Barney shrugged. 'I'm not interested in providing the public with sensations. All I care about is making certain that these fiends swing; particularly Ratnadatta, and his name was among those given to Mrs. Morden. What is more, according to her, a week ago he was wearing a pair of shoes that he must have taken off Morden's body. They are brown, hand-made by Lobb, and the left one has a bad scratch on the toecap. It is quite on the cards that he was wearing them when I turned him in at Fulham and still has them on. You might check on that.'

  'I certainly will. If not, the odds are that we'll find them at his digs. Either way that will put him into it up to the neck. Have you any idea when Colonel Verney will be back?�

  Barney was brought back with a jerk to the desperate situation which had sent his Chief hurrying off to Downing Street. He shook his head. 'I couldn't say. But I do know that he is on a top-priority job. When he does come back I very much doubt whether he'll be able to find time to see you.'

  Reluctantly, the Inspector stood up. 'Oh well, in that case there's not much point in my waiting. I'll look in again to-morrow morning.'

  As he turned away, Barney wondered grimly if
there would be a to-morrow morning. Perhaps Ratnadatta and the other Satanists would never be called upon to stand their trial. Instead they might shortly be reduced to a few ounces of ash that by some freak of chance might mingle in the wind with other ash that had once been himself and Inspector Thompson.

  Knowing that in C.B.'s room Otto was again attempting to overlook Lothar, Barney remained in the outer office killing time as best he could until the others should return. It proved a long wait but when they did arrive it was within a few minutes of one another.

  Otto had nothing of moment to report. He had been able to catch only occasional glimpses of his brother who, it seemed, had spent the whole morning out on the platform at the far entrance to the cave working on the rocket. Colonel Washington and the thick-set man with the black wiry hair were still helping him. Mary had not been visible.

  C.B. leaned against the edge of his desk, his long legs stretched out before him, and asked Richter, 'What had your people to say, Colonel?'

  The tubby American made a grimace. 'At first they thought I was round the bend, but they couldn't laugh off Washington's having flown out with the war-head. The Ambassador got on the Transatlantic blower. He couldn't raise the President. He's on a golfing holiday; but he spoke with the State Department and the Pentagon. I don't have to describe the resulting flap. Everything has been alerted and some fool has now only to drop a pin for the whole lot to go off. But what was the alternative? At least we'll lose not a second in shooting back, if it does happen.'

  'Our Service Chiefs are doing the same,' Verney announced. 'Did your man suggest at any stage that we ought to warn the Russians?'

  'Sure; but the Pentagon shot that down. They take the view that Moscow would never credit us with being on the level. They'd believe that this was some sort of a trick. Just one of those things, if you'll pardon me, Colonel, that a whole lot of other nationalities think the British are so good at - putting up a rabbit that will later enable them to say that it was no fault of theirs that the party ever started.'