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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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Three fire engines were already on the spot and a fourth came clanging up behind us. Jumping from the car Johnny ran in through the front door, and I sped close behind him. Dead I might be, but I was still fond of the old place, and to my great relief I saw that the main building was still unaffected. As three fire engines were already in action it looked as if there would be a good chance of confining the fire to the bachelor wing, which contained only the extra spare bedrooms and the laboratory above them.

Two big hoses snaked through the hall, but there was no one in it; so Johnny ran out of the garden entrance to the terrace. To the left on the lawn below it a crowd was gathered: firemen, police, local people and most of the household. I could see now that the seat of the fire was about half way along the wing. The crowd was watching the hoses being played on it.

After a few minutes Johnny found Bill. He was in his shirtsleeves and the grime on his face showed that he had been fire fighting. Struggling to get back his breath, Johnny gasped:

‘How did this happen? How did it start?’

‘God alone knows!’ Bill replied, mopping his soot-streaked brow. ‘I got back from old Frothy’s a little before eleven to find the ground floor well ablaze. Silvers and a few people from the farm across the fields were fighting the fire as well as they could with extinguishers and buckets. I took charge, of course, but there wasn’t much we could do. Fortunately Silvers had had the sense to telephone not only the local fire brigade but Southampton, Lymington and several other places round about.

‘You see, by the time he came on the scene the fire already had a good hold and he realised that it was not going to be easy to put out. We might have succeeded in localising the fire if it had been discovered earlier; but soon after I got here it penetrated to the upper floor, and I think the Professor must have had a lot of inflammable chemicals there.
Anyhow, the whole middle of the wing had become a raging furnace before the firemen could get their first hose into action.’

After looking about him for a few moments Johnny spotted Silvers, and moving over to him said, ‘I gather it was you who discovered the fire, Silvers. Have you any idea what caused it?’

Silvers shook his grey head. ‘No, Sir. I’ve no idea at all; but it started in your bedroom. We do know that much. Perhaps you left a cigarette burning there, or something.’

‘I’m sure I didn’t,’ Johnny replied promptly. ‘Did you manage to get into the room before the fire spread?’

‘Oh no, Sir; the whole corridor was full of dense black smoke when I opened the door from the main hall that leads to the bedrooms; so I shut it again immediately. But young Belton, our chauffeur, did. It was he who discovered the fire, not me.

‘He’s courting young Ellen Sykes, over at the farm, and he was crossing the garden on his way back to his rooms over the stables when he noticed a red glow coming from the window of your bedroom. When he realised it was fire he ran up to the house and shouted for me, but as you and his Lordship were both out to dinner I had taken the opportunity to go down to the local. Getting no reply he ran back and finding the window open scrambled into the room. He did his best to put the fire out and burnt his hands quite badly; so they have taken him off to the Cottage Hospital.

‘When it proved too much for him he made a fresh effort to get help. Mildred had gone to bed but Mrs. Silvers was still up listening to the wireless. He sent her off to fetch the Sykes from the farm, then collapsed in our sitting room. Mr. Sykes and his boys got here only just before I did, and of course I telephoned the fire brigade at once. But all we could do by then was to try to keep the fire in check until they got here. It’s a terrible business, Sir, terrible. Still, I think there’s some hope now that they will save the main building.’

‘Where is Lady Ankaret?’ Johnny enquired.

‘I can’t say for certain, Sir. Mrs. Silvers went up and told her about the fire; so she came down and helped carry buckets of water out here to throw through the windows until the firemen got the first hose going. I haven’t seen her since. But
she was wearing only a coat over her night-things, so I expect she will have gone in to put some more clothes on.’

With a curt nod Johnny left Silvers and strode towards the garden entrance. In the hall a few wisps of smoke were curling up from under the door to the corridor, but there were no signs of immediate danger. After a hesitant glance at the stairway he turned and walked into the drawing-room. It was empty so he marched through it to my sanctum. Ankaret was sitting there alone, in an arm-chair. She had on a pair of slacks and a pull-over, and loosely draped over her shoulders her mink coat. Beside her on a small table stood a syphon and a bottle of brandy. In her right hand she held a glass, and the colour of the liquor in it showed her drink to be a stiff one.

‘Hello, Johnny!’ she greeted him with her Gioconda smile. ‘Come to save me from the flames?’

‘No.’ His voice was hard but level. ‘I came to ask you to whom I should apply for compensation for my bits and pieces that have by now gone up in smoke.’

She shrugged. ‘To the insurance people, I suppose. I imagine that Giff’s policy would have covered guests’ clothing.’

‘On the contrary,’ he said harshly. ‘I think that I should send the bill to you.’

Her smile broadened. ‘Darling Johnny; you are really quite coming on in your new role of detective, aren’t you?’

‘No. If I’d been any good at it I would never have left that suit-case in a place where by climbing in through the window you could start a fire to burn it.’

Ankaret took a long pull at her drink. ‘I’m sorry, Johnny, but I just had to. You see, there were papers in it that Giff would have been terribly distressed for anyone but myself to see.’

‘And I can guess what sort of papers they were,’ he told her angrily. ‘Does the name Desmond Chawton mean anything to you?’

Her face suddenly became a mask. ‘Yes; he is an old friend of mine. Why?’

‘Because about a year ago I met him in Germany, and one night we got rather tight together. But not too tight for him to know what he was talking about. The amount he had drunk had loosened him up just enough for him to tell me a lot
about you. From then on I realised that Giff had had a rotten deal. He was brave enough and clever enough to put a good face on it, so that he appeared to be happy with you; but all the time he must have been suffering the tortures of the damned. He adored you too much to give you up, although he knew that you were being consistently unfaithful to him.’

‘You’ve got things all wrong, Johnny!’ Ankaret’s cry was one of genuine pain. ‘I swear you have!’

‘Oh no I haven’t,’ he retorted. ‘How about the Spanish Marquis and all the rest of them? You’ve no more moral sense than an animal. As an intelligent human being you could have found ways to keep your lusts in check; but you wouldn’t even try. Instead you gave free rein to your lechery, until it led to Giff’s death. And now you have added arson to your other crimes. I haven’t a doubt that those papers you have destroyed would have enabled me to put you and your latest lover in the dock at the Old Bailey. And if I can get a new line on what really took place here last Friday night I’ll do it yet.’

Ankaret was very pale, but she had recovered her poise. After tossing back what remained of her brandy and soda, she said:

‘You are tilting at windmills, Johnny. I haven’t got a new lover, and if poor Giff were still alive he would be the first to tell you to stop trying to pin his death on me. But what’s the odds. Go on trying if you will. I don’t give a damn. The only thing which might have ever given anyone a clue to the truth about this awful business is now a handful of ash. You’ve missed the boat!’

8
Tuesday 13th September

By two o’clock in the morning the fire had been got under control. One engine remained and its crew continued to play their hose on the smouldering embers; the others departed, as did the locals and all but two of the police. Johnny was provided with a pair of my pyjamas and my toilet things and accommodated in the second double spare room, next to Bill; then the household went belatedly to bed.

The hall was in a fine mess, for muddy boots and hoses had been dragged through it, but that could soon be cleared up; and the only serious damage to the main block was in the dining-room, where a lot of water had come through the ceiling. On the other hand the wing beyond it had been rendered completely untenable. Three of the rooms on the ground floor had been gutted and left exposed to the sky when the floor of the lab and its glass roof fell in; so whether Ankaret had intended it or not she had killed two birds with one stone. Somewhere among the charred debris lay not only my papers, but also the twisted remains of the death ray machine. No one now would be able to deduce from it the secret of Evans’s discovery and that eliminated the possibility of even remote speculations upon the use to which he might have put it.

I remained down in my library, and was ready enough to black out for a few hours when the others went to bed, but I was roused early by the clatter of pails coming through to me from the main hall. Silvers and our helps who come in daily from the village were mopping up and putting the place right as far as possible in readiness for my funeral.

At about half-past nine Johnny drove off in his car. I wondered where he was off to; but on his return, an hour and a half later, he was wearing a topper and a morning coat, so it was obvious that to hire suitable kit for the occasion he had driven in to Southampton.

The funeral had been timed for twelve o’clock to enable anyone coming from London for it to get down that morning, and shortly before midday those who were going to follow the hearse began to arrive at the house. Among them were Edith, Christobel and Harold, James Compton and the rest of my co-directors, Eddie Arnold, the Admiral and Dr. Culver. Meanwhile my body had been brought up from the beach house and its flower-covered coffin put into the hearse.

Bill had naturally taken charge of the arrangements and when everything was ready went up to fetch Ankaret. She bowed to the others as he escorted her out to the first car but I could not see her face, as she was heavily veiled. The church was about two miles away; and when we got there I was surprised to see the number of people who had assembled, for many of whom there was not room in the building. Of course I had a lot of friends in the neighbourhood and, the works having been closed for the day, a large number of my employees were present; but there were also many strangers. I imagine that news of the fire on top of the tragedy at Long-shot had brought a lot of them there from morbid curiosity.

I have always hated long funeral addresses myself, so I was glad for everybody’s sake that the Vicar made no attempt to preach. He said only a few dignified words about the infinite mercy of God assuring our seeing our loved ones again in a happier future. The coffin was then carried from the packed church and the principal mourners followed it to the graveside.

In the churchyard there are a number of graves of past Hillarys and the one in current use had been made for my grandfather. It consisted of a brick vault about ten feet deep and wide enough to take two coffins side by side. There were so far five coffins in it, the topmost being that of my father. Mine was lowered into the space beside his while the Vicar recited the classic line: ‘earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,’ then it came to rest with a gentle bump on the one below it.

As it did so I saw its lid shift just a fraction sideways. Slight as the movement was, it struck a chord in my mind. In view of the fact that my spirit was very definitely not imprisoned in my body, during the past three days I had not given another thought to the special clause in my will about which
Eddie Arnold had told my executors on Saturday morning. But evidently my wishes were being faithfully carried out. The lid could only have moved because it was not screwed down; although I had not noticed them there would be airholes in the sides of the coffin, and the great stone slab which closed the vault would not be replaced over it until my body had been down there for a week.

Those instructions had been drafted by me when making my first will and, like several other clauses, simply carried forward when I had remade it on marrying Ankaret. They were really a hang-over from childhood fears by which I had been badly haunted, and in recent years I had attached little importance to them. In fact I cannot recall the matter having even entered my thoughts. But as I now looked down into the grave my old horror at the idea of being buried alive returned to me, and I was momentarily conscious of an inexpressible relief at the thought that the essential me was safely outside it.

The crowd respectfully drew back for the principal mourners to reach their cars and I returned to the house with them. Bill shepherded them into the drawing-room, where sandwiches and drinks had been set out, and apologised to the visitors that the fire had made it too difficult to give them a proper lunch. Ankaret, still keeping her veil down, took a chair apart in one of the windows and did not address a word to anyone. The others, respecting her grief, forbore from approaching her and made low-voiced conversation. When they had refreshed themselves, Eddie took my will from his briefcase and read it to them.

Most of those present were already aware of its contents, and Edith’s face showed that she was quite content with the provision which I had made for her; but Christobel looked sulky and Harold could scarcely contain his rage when, on questioning Eddie, he learned that he would come in only for about seven thousand until, on Ankaret’s death, the Hall with its contents and my holding in Hillary-Comptons would revert to him. However, suicide or no suicide, there could be no question about my sanity when I had made the will, as Eddie, a trifle acidly, pointed out; thereby promptly squashing any thoughts of contesting it that the new Baronet might have been harbouring.

By half-past two the proceedings were completed, and Bill saw the members of my family who were returning to London to their car. Johnny was also about to leave but James Compton followed him out into the hall, stopped him and then beckoned over Bill who had just re-entered it.

BOOK: The Ka of Gifford Hillary
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