The Haunting of Toby Jugg

by Dennis Wheatley

  Everything went off remarkably easily. I said my piece and Helmuth met me more than half-way. He admitted that many of his acts must have seemed high-handed and even tyrannical, but he had been dominated by the one thought of preventing it from leaking out that I had become mental.

  As he explained, it is just like a man going bankrupt; however unlucky he may have been, and even if he pays up one pound in the pound afterwards and gets an honourable discharge, it always prejudices his future commercial undertakings. So with mental trouble, the effect would be little short of disastrous to me as the head of the Jugg enterprises if it ever became known that I had once suffered from hallucinations.

  He went on to say that he had moved me from downstairs only with the greatest reluctance, because he was most loth to give the servants grounds for talk; but that after my attempts to get away he had felt that to do so was the lesser evil. And that when he had decided to move me he had chosen this room because it was one of those furthest removed from the servants’ quarters, so they were less likely to hear me if further attacks led to a renewal of my singing and shouting. He added, too, that he found it a considerably inconvenience to be deprived of Konrad’s services, but he knew that the fellow could be trusted not to blab, so he had willingly given him up to me, rather than risk letting a new man, who might later prove untrustworthy, into our secret.

  We went on then to discuss what should be done with me. Julia said that she would willingly have me at Queensclere; but the difficulty about that is that the house is occupied by the Army, and she and Uncle Paul have been allowed to retain only what amounts to a flat of half-a-dozen rooms on the first floor. So, apart from the question of air-raids, and the business of getting me down to a shelter—which they insisted would have to be done if I went there—in the event of my having further attacks it would be practically impossible to prevent the officers who are billeted in the house from learning about my condition.

  Kensington Palace Gardens is out, because it has now been taken over to provide additional accommodation for the Soviet Embassy; so, of my own properties, that left only the little house on Mull. And if I were put into a nursing-home it is a certainty that the secret of my affliction would get out.

  I suggested that a small house should be bought for me in Devonshire or Cornwall, but they all seemed to think that it would be practically impossible to find anything suitable at the present time, as every available property in the ‘safe’ areas had been taken over to house evacuees; and even if we could find one it raises the problem of who is going to run it and look after me.

  Of course, the same thing applies to Mull, but eventually Helmuth offered to throw up his work here and take me up there. That was very decent of him, and it seemed a possible solution for the next few months. But it would be far from attractive as a permanency, as to have to winter there would be incredibly depressing and grim; and even during the summer we would have none of the good things, such as the garden produce, that we enjoy down here. Still, it seemed the best thing we could think of when lunch-time came, so they left me to think it over.

  When they joined me again about three o’clock, Julia put it to me that, since I was now reconciled to Helmuth, did I really still feel so strongly about leaving Llanferdrack? She pointed out that, so far, I had been subject to attacks only while down in the library, and that now I had been moved I might not be afflicted with them any more. The advantages of Llanferdrack over Mull needed no stressing, and my acceptance of Helmuth’s offer would mean sabotaging much of the fine war-effort that he has built up here during the past two-and-a-half years. Therefore, didn’t I think that I could bring myself to stay on here for a time at least—anyhow until the next full-moon period—and if it transpired that the attacks did recur, then I could always be removed at once.

  Actually, while I had been eating my lunch, I had been thinking on much the same lines myself; so I agreed.

  We then went into the question of my birthday and it was decided that, in present circumstances, it would not be a good thing to have the Trustees down here on the 20th. If Iswick, Roberts and the rest got the least suspicion that I was not quite normal they might consider it their duty to have me examined by a committee of brain specialists before agreeing to hand over.

  In consequence Uncle Paul is going to inform the others that I hope to be fit enough to make a short visit to London in the latter part of July; so I have suggested that the whole business—presents and everything—shall be put off for a month, as it will be much more convenient for them to meet me there.

  It was agreed, too, that I should remain in this room; partly for the original reason that Helmuth put me here, and partly because there is no other—except the library, downstairs—which is at all suitable. Actually, this big chamber with its vaulted roof is not without its attractions. Even in summer it would ordinarily be a bit chilly, but every afternoon a fire is lit for me in the great open fireplace, and in the evenings its glow on the wainscoting and old stone makes the place rather cosy.

  And I have come to love my little private terrace with its view over the lake. The only real snag is that it would require too much effort to get me to the nearest bathroom every evening; so I have to have my tub in an old-fashioned hip-bath, for which Konrad has to boil up large kettles of water on the open fire. But, after all, the types who occupied this room for hundreds of years managed quite well that way; and lots of our chaps in the Western Desert, and elsewhere, are not lucky enough to get a bath at all.

  Julia and Uncle Paul returned to London this morning, and Helmuth went with them, just for the night, as he has to attend a Board Meeting of one of the Companies tomorrow. Before they left we had a final chat, and Helmuth promised that as soon as the moon begins to wax again he will come in to me every night, round about midnight, to see that I am all right. If I am not, he will make arrangements to take me up to Mull as soon as possible, and, in the meantime, he will help me to fight my trouble.

  He is a tower of strength, and I have been terribly unjust to him. He was absolutely right to keep me here and showed his true fondness for me in doing so. Only here am I really safe from prying eyes and whispering tongues. Here we can keep the secret of my miserable affliction safely concealed until I am well again.

  We all feel now, though, that the change of room may do the trick. Regaining confidence in Helmuth has helped me enormously to regain it in myself, and I do not believe that there is the least danger of my becoming a mental case permanently. Therefore I am able to end this journal on an optimistic note; and, now that I really do know where I stand, there is no point in continuing it further.

  Wednesday, 10th June

  Here I am again. The fact is that I have become so used to setting down my private thoughts that yesterday, during the time I usually devote to these jottings, I felt quite at a loose end. I felt the same way this morning, until it occurred to me that it was the height of stupidity to stop doing anything that helped me to while away my time pleasantly, merely because the occupation in itself had ceased to have any serious purpose. Moreover, having got that far I realised that I have something of considerable interest to record.

  Helmuth did not get back from his trip to London until just before dinner last night; soon afterwards he came in to see me. He is usually rather restless when making casual conversation, but on this occasion he settled himself down in a way that showed he had something serious to say; then, after a bit, he started off more or less as follows:

  ‘Now that we are friends again, Toby, we can talk freely together, just as we used to in the past. I have been wanting to have a heart-to-heart with you ever since you arrived here; but at first I didn’t want to rush matters, and later I was afraid you might not feel like discussing your future plans with me. I am naturally deeply interested to know what they are. When you come into your inheritance, do you intend to assume control of the Companies, as far as your health permits, or will you continue to let other people handle matters for you?’

>   ‘I shall assume control,’ I replied with a smile. ‘At least, I hope so. After all the time and trouble you have given to educating me for the job I’d be a pretty poor specimen if I let you down to the extent of not even attempting to tackle it.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m glad you feel like that. I was afraid that your time in the Air Force might have altered your outlook. Since you are still prepared to take on this enormous responsibility it is doubly tragic that your health is likely to prove such a heavy handicap.’

  ‘This new trouble may,’ I agreed. ‘But before that started I saw no reason why the injury to my spine should prevent me using my brain; so I had been toying with the idea of having a special motor-ambulance-caravan fitted out, in which to tour the factories. It would probably take me the best part of a year to get a real grip of things, and I had no intention of throwing my weight about to start with; but after a tour like that I should have picked up enough of the practical side to argue the pros and cons of the broader issues with my co-directors.’

  Helmuth nodded his white head again. ‘That sounds an admirable scheme. You will have to continue to observe your rest hours, and be careful not to overdo it until your back is a bit stronger; but if all goes well in the other matter, I see no reason why you should not start on a tour of that kind in the autumn. It would certainly prove a most popular move with all your employees, and, as you say, give much more weight to your opinions when you do decide to give vent to them at Board Meetings. Yes, I congratulate you on that idea, Toby.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, and after a moment he went on:

  ‘All the same, I wonder if you fully realise what you will be up against. However tactfully you set to work, most of these middle-aged and elderly industrialists who are running your Companies at the present time are not going to take at all kindly to a young man of twenty-one walking in and insisting on changes in old-established policies.’

  ‘I hope that in most cases that will not be necessary.’

  ‘My dear Toby; if it is not you will have put yourself to a great deal of trouble for nothing. The whole object of a new broom is to sweep clean. With your intelligence you are bound to spot all sorts of effort-wasting, obsolete practices, incompetent executives and unnecessary wastages to which the others have become blind through seeing them go on for years. If you do not initiate reforms to abolish these weaknesses you will be letting yourself down as well as your shareholders, and never become a great leader of industry.’

  ‘I suppose you are right,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘If that does prove the case, I shall certainly introduce reforms and endeavour to overcome any opposition that I may meet with.’

  ‘It will take a lot of overcoming. Most of these men have had to fight hard to attain their present positions, and they will have an instinctive prejudice against your youth and inexperience. Those who are uncertain of themselves will combine against you from fear that you may think them not up to their jobs and get rid of them; while others, who are of stronger mettle, will do their utmost to dominate you and climb on your back to greater power.’

  ‘You paint a gloomy picture,’ I remarked. ‘It looks as if instead of being able to devote most of my time to making my Companies more prosperous I shall have to spend it defending myself from the jealousy and intrigues of my co-directors.’

  ‘I think you will—anyhow, to start with,’ he said frankly. ‘But, if you will let me, I can help you to overcome a great deal of such opposition.’

  Naturally, I thought he was suggesting that I should make him my private adviser; and evidently he guessed what I was thinking, as he waved aside my murmur of thanks, and said quietly:

  ‘If, later on, you find any use for my personal services I will give them gladly; but that was not what I had in mind. I expect you remember hearing about the Brotherhood when you were at Weylands?’

  At that my ears pricked with interest. ‘Rather! It was the great mystery of the place, and we all used to speculate on what went on at those meetings in the crypt of the old Abbey. It was a Masonic Lodge of the Grand Orient, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No. A number of its members are also Freemasons who had been initiated on the Continent; so we use that Grand Orient story as cover; ours is a much older fellowship. The main reason why I tried to prevent you joining the R.A.F. was because I did not want you to miss initiation; but by running away you stymied me over that. However, it is not too late, and membership of the Brotherhood could be of immense value to you in your business life; so if you are agreeable, I propose to start preparing you for initiation now.’

  ‘How thrilling!’ I exclaimed. ‘Do tell me about it. What is the object of the association, and what should I have to do?’

  ‘It is a Brotherhood, based on the old principle that Union is Strength. Each member contributes to it according to his means and receives from it according to his needs.’

  I laughed. ‘That sounds rather like Socialism to me. As I am exceptionally rich it looks as if I should be expected to make a contribution out of all proportion to anything I was likely to get back.’

  ‘It is Socialism, but on the highest plane. You need have no fears that your millions will be scattered to the masses.’

  ‘My millions!’ I echoed, raising an eyebrow at his joke.

  He shrugged. ‘Even if it cost you your whole fortune you would still be the gainer on balance. That may sound a tall statement, Toby; but in due course I believe you’ll agree with me.’

  ‘I’ll be better able to form an opinion when I know more about it,’ I said, with a grin. ‘If the rumours which used to circulate at Weylands had any truth in them, the Brotherhood consists of a considerable number of people all of whom possess wealth, influence or brains; and are pledged to help one another. Is that a fact?’

  As he nodded assent, I went on: ‘I can fully appreciate that membership of such a fraternity must be extremely valuable; and I see now why you think it would prove a big asset to me in dealing with my fellow industrialists; but obviously there is a limit to what such secret assistance in one’s dealings would be worth.’

  ‘Why should there be?’ he asked quite seriously. ‘You are an immensely rich man. Your grandfather left in trust for you assets to the value of over fourteen million sterling. If that had happened half-a-century ago, by the reinvestment of the bulk of the income at cumulative interest during your minority, by now you would be worth something like thirty million.

  ‘But time marches on; owing to your grandfather’s death not having occurred till nineteen-twenty-nine, income- and supertax had already risen to such heights that in the past thirteen years the Trustees have been able to add only a beggardly million-and-three-quarters to your original capital. Since the war the situation of people in the top income groups has deteriorated still further. By the time it ends you will be lucky if you are allowed to keep sixpence in the pound of what your money earns. So what will your fortune be worth to you then?’

  I did a quick calculation. ‘In Government stocks it would bring me in only about ten thousand a year, but in my own companies it should produce at least double that. And you forget the Directors’ Fees that I should draw; they would easily amount to a further twenty thousand.’

  It was Helmuth’s turn to grin. ‘My dear Toby, Directors’ Fees are taxable, and twenty thousand sixpences comes to only five hundred pounds. On your own showing your net income would barely exceed twenty thousand a year, all told. You already allow your uncle that figure to keep up Queensclere and the London house, and I gather you have now promised that he shall lose nothing by your assuming control of your own money. Actually, of course, your tax-free allowances for business expenses will save you from having to give up cocktails and cigarettes; but the sooner you disabuse yourself of the idea that the possession of millions still endows their owner with almost limitless spending power, the better.’

  ‘You have shaken me quite a bit,’ I confessed. ‘I have been out of touch with all this sort of thing for so long that I had no ide
a that the picture had become so black for the working rich. Still, however high they raise income- and super-tax, a fortune is always a fortune; and, although Grandpapa Jugg might turn in his grave, I could sell out capital to ante-up my income. Even if I live to be a hundred and spent twenty thousand a year from capital for the next eighty years, that would consume less than the million-and-three-quarters that has piled up during my minority. So I should still be able to leave my heirs the original fourteen million.’

  Helmuth threw back his massive head and roared with laughter: ‘Toby, Toby; did you think of nothing but Hurricanes and Heinkels while you were in the R.A.F. and in hospital? Time marches on, I tell you. If you do live to be a hundred, it is most unlikely that you will have fourteen thousand—let alone million—left to leave anybody; and if you have your heirs will be lucky if the Government of the day permits them to keep more than one thousand of it.’

  I smiled a little ruefully. ‘Of course I know that death duties have been going up for years; and that even now they would cut the Jugg millions in half. But do you really think that in another fifty years or so there will be practically nothing left of them?’

  ‘Indeed I do. By that time all public services and every form of industry will be State-owned: and it is highly probable that private ownership of land, houses and investments will have been abolished. But you won’t have to wait that long before the bulk of your fortune is taken from you.’

  I said that I thought, myself, all the odds were on the Socialists coming to power soon after the war; but that most of their leaders were sensible enough to realise the danger of throwing the nation’s economy out of gear by doing anything too drastic. Helmuth shrugged and replied: