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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

The Satanist (45 page)

BOOK: The Satanist
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At this already familiar mental picture of Mary naked, weeping, beaten and abused, he was once more possessed by a frenzy of distress and helpless anger; and to those feelings was now added a great surge of compassion. He knew that he must not only get her out of that hell and bring her back to her flat, but must comfort and cherish her until she had got over her ghastly experience and was really well again. Would he then be able to break with her? He didn’t
know. He doubted it. But the future must take care of itself.

The afternoon was now well advanced so, having relocked the door to the flat, he left the house, took the Underground from Earl’s Court to Victoria and so made his way back to Warwick Square. There he freshened himself up with a bath and, not knowing when he would get another chance to eat anything, sat down in his dressing gown to a scratch meal of sardines, cake and a whisky and soda. Then he put on an old suit, slipped into his pocket a small automatic that he had a licence to carry, and went out to collect his car from its garage.

On reaching Cremorne he drove slowly round the streets adjacent to the old mansion until he found a place only a few hundred yards from it where, outside a small warehouse, he could park his car without causing an obstruction. Getting out, he strolled along to the ‘World’s End’, at which he had a rendezvous with Inspector Thompson. Five minutes later the Inspector joined him in the saloon bar. They greeted one another as though casual acquaintances who had met by chance, asked after each other’s wives, talked for awhile about the Derby, tossed up to decide which of them should pay for their drinks, then left together.

Unhurriedly they made a tour of the area. The entrance to the cul-de-sac was being kept under observation by plainclothes pickets on the look out for Lothar, but as yet no other police had taken up their positions. From eight o’clock a number of plain-clothes men would enter the area independently, so that they could be summoned at once should the meeting for some reason break up unexpectedly early; but the bulk of the raiding force would arrive in vans only a few minutes before zero hour. The same vans would later be used to remove the prisoners. As far as was known the only exit from the mansion was by way of the cul-de-sac; but in case there were others through some of the small houses that backed on to the garden, all these were to be cordoned off.

Thompson suggested that Barney should accompany him when he led the way in at midnight, and Barney said he would like to. He then told the Inspector that he intended to waylay one of the Satanists on his way to the meeting and take him off to put some special questions to him. The picket keeping watch on the entrance to the cul-de-sac were informed of this, so that, if they saw a fight start, they should not intervene; then Barney took up a position not far from them, and Inspector Thompson left him.

For a long time now Barney had had an itch to give Ratnadatta a thorough beating up, and he had every reason to suppose that soon now he would be able to gratify it. In fact, his sole reason for coming down to Cremorne several hours before the raid was due to take place was to make sure of catching the Indian on his way to the meeting. It was still only just after eight o’clock and, from the watch kept on the place the previous Saturday, it was known that the majority of the Satanists did not arrive till about half past nine; but a few individuals, two couples and a car had entered the cul-de-sac at intervals, a good while earlier.

Much the same occurred on this occasion and, as darkness gradually closed down, from his point of vantage on the opposite side of the road Barney saw several people give a furtive look round then swiftly turn into the alley leading to the mansion. It was about ten minutes to nine when he caught sight of Ratnadatta coming along the street.

The paunchy Indian seemed to be walking jauntily with his head held cockily high, but as he passed under a light standard Barney saw that the angle of his chin was due to his wearing what appeared to be a stiff, high, white collar. When he was within ten yards of the entrance to the cul-de-sac, Barney crossed the road and followed him into it. Another half-dozen paces and they had been swallowed up in the darkness of the alley. Swiftly closing the gap, Barney tapped him on the shoulder and opened a little act he had thought up by saying, with a laugh, ‘Caught you, Mr. Ratnadatta!’

The Indian halted, swung round and asked nervously; ‘Who are you? What do you mean by that?’

‘I’m Lord Larne,’ said Barney in a friendly voice. ‘You remember me. We met two or three times at Mrs. Wardeel’s. I won’t keep you a minute, but I want a word with you.’

‘This ees not a good time. It ees not convenient.’

‘It is for me.’ Barney gave the guffaw of a fool. ‘You might not think it, but I’m a bit of an amateur detective. Sorry to trouble you, and all that, but having traced you here I want to know what goes on in the big house down at the end of this alley.’

‘That ees not your business,’ declared Ratnadatta angrily. ‘You haf no right to ask. Leave me…’

‘No right at all,’ Barney agreed cheerfully. ‘But I’m itching with curiosity, so unless you tell, I’m going in with you.’ He produced his pistol and showed it to Ratnadatta. ‘See, I’ve got my rod, so no one’s going to stop me. Stop me and buy one, eh? Ha! Ha!’

The Indian took a quick step back, but Barney suddenly grabbed him by the arm, and went on, ‘My car is just round the corner. Let’s go and sit in it and have a quiet cigarette while you tell me. I won’t keep you more than a few minutes. Come on.’

As Barney had hoped, Ratnadatta, supposing him to be no more than a nosey young idiot who, as a member of the privileged classes, perhaps enjoyed some degree of protection for such lawless frolics, decided that it would be better to humour him than to risk a scene on the doorstep of the mansion which would draw attention to it.

The avoidance of a scene had also been Barney’s object in adopting his role of inquisitive buffoon. While they walked along to his car, he could almost hear the Indian’s brain ticking as it hastily endeavoured to formulate a plausible, non-criminal, but intriguingly mystic reason for the meeting he had been about to attend. But he was given no opportunity to produce it. No sooner were they both in the car than Barney, having achieved his object, switched on
the ignition, let in the clutch and drove off.

‘Hi!’ exclaimed Ratnadatta. ‘What do you do? Where are you taking me?’

‘For a ride,’ replied Barney. ‘To a place where we can talk without interruption. We’ll be there in less than ten minutes.’

‘Stop!’ cried the Indian. ‘I do not wish to go! Plees, you let me get out’

‘No, sweetheart. Alive or dead, you are coming with me.’

‘You are mad!’

‘Yes, I am. With you. So you had better shut up. I showed you my gun. I’d welcome an excuse to put a bullet into your guts.’

Completely bewildered by this unforeseen encounter, and now extremely frightened, Ratnadatta, breathing heavily, fell silent. The car had already reached the Embankment and was heading towards Battersea Bridge. They crossed it and ran swiftly through the streets on the south side of the river to Barnes Common. Driving across it along a track that led past the cemetery, Barney pulled up in a deserted spot and said tersely, ‘Get out.’

‘You are mad,’ Ratnadatta said again as, quaking with fear, he eased himself out on to the grass. ‘Plees, Lord Larne, I do you no harm. Why haf you bring me to this place?’

Barney jumped from the car and came quickly round its bonnet. Grabbing Ratnadatta by the lapel of his coat, he cried in a harsh voice that no longer had the least suggestion of the detective-crazy idiot in it: ‘I’ve brought you here because I mean to beat hell out of you. I know all about your Satanic Temple and the way you act as a tout for it.’

‘No! No!’ Ratnadatta gasped. ‘It ees not true! White Magic! We practise White Magic only. Also I invite only those peoples weech ask to come.’

‘You filthy, lecherous, lying swine! You lured Mrs. Mauriac there a week ago. Don’t dare to deny it. What did you do to her, eh?’

‘Nothing! Not me! I take oath.’

‘You’re lying!’ Barney raised his fist. ‘Tell me the truth or I’ll smash your ugly face in.’

‘Plees! No! No!’ wheezed the Indian. ‘My neck. I have been struck great blow. It rick my neck. You strike again and it ees too much. Perhaps you kill me, then you hang.’

‘So that’s why you are wearing that bandage. But don’t think a ricked neck is going to protect you from me. I know plenty of ways to make you squirm without killing you.’ As Barney spoke he struck the Indian a sharp blow on the muscle of the upper arm with the hard edge of his palm.

Ratnadatta let out a yelp, and Barney went on, ‘Now, you are going to tell me the truth or I’ll pulp every muscle in your body. Mrs. Mauriac has been absent from her flat for a week. She left it with you, and you took her to that hell-dive where you hold your orgies. I want to know whereabouts in it you are keeping her. You are going to describe the inside of the place to me, so that when I get into it I can go straight to her.’

‘She go with me there on Saturday. Yes, I admit. But she haf left it again same night.’

‘Stop lying!’ Barney struck him a second blow on the muscle.

‘I tell no lie!’ the Indian gulped. ‘This ees truth! I swear so! I take oath! She ees taken away by another member off the Brotherhood.’

‘Why? Who was he? Tell me his name!’

‘He ees an American. A Colonel off their Air Force.’

‘I don’t believe you!’

‘It ees true. Listen plees, listen.’ Ratnadatta began to ring his hands and burst into a spate of words. ‘I gift you good reason why I not lie. This ees same man who struck me great blow. For four days I am in hospital. Then I come out. I wish to put curse upon him for what he haf done to me. To do that I must find out about him. His real name and where he live. I make opportunity to get quick look at secret records. In list off visiting Brothers against name for magics Twisting Snake, I find name Colonel Henrik George
Washington, United States Air Force, Fulgoham, Cambs. Post Office tell me Cambs. mean Cambridgeshire. Yesterday I go there and make much enquiries. It ees a big camp with many great aeroplanes, buildings, huts and all; but this Colonel does not live there. He has private house not far off, near Six Miles Bottom, weech is called the Cedars. I go there. It ees good size, pretty house, in little park. Now I haf seen I can make bad magic for him there. This is truth; all truth. A friend I am not man to betray; but for this Colonel I haf great hate.’

Barney had to admit to himself that the chapter and verse produced by the Indian in support of his story made it highly plausible. But, to test it further, he said: ‘I’m not letting you go back to the Temple tonight and I have means of getting into it myself. If I go in and find that you have been holding Mrs. Mauriac as a prisoner there after all, I’ll keep you locked in a cellar till you die of thirst, then throw your body in the river. Now you know what to expect if you have been lying; do you still stick to your story?’

‘Yes, my Lord; I stick,’ Ratnadatta replied without hesitation. ‘In the Temple she ees not. She was there for two, three hours, no more; then the American haf taken her away.’

‘To this house of his in Cambridgeshire?’

‘Yes. It ees there that he live, and he had big car.’

‘It doesn’t follow that he took her down there.’

‘No; but plees, it ees very best bet. At London hotel she ees perhaps not willing to stay with him. Perhaps she make ugly scene and lands him in bad trouble.’

‘He took her away by force, then?’

After a moment’s hesitation, Ratnadatta replied, ‘On Saturday night it was arrange for her to become initiate. To one part of ceremony she make objection. The American haf eye for her all along. She see that and he ees big man, very big; so she ask him to take her home. That ees against rules off Brotherhood. There ees a fight and he carry her off. But he ees not what you call Knight Errant. He do this because he want her for himself.’

‘So it was a case of rogues falling out?’ A lump had risen in Barney’s throat. It was all he could do to prevent himself from smashing his fist into the Satanist’s face, as he went on, ‘You quarrelled about who should have her, and the American got the best of it. Bejasus! I’ve a mind to kill you here and now.’

‘No, my Lord, no!’ the Indian whined, shrinking back. ‘I only obey order off Master off our Lodge to prevent her being taken away. We should haf discuss matter more, agree to postponement off initiation; perhaps decide that she ees not suitable after all to become Sister off us. But she refuse to listen, she show great temper, then row starts. Perhaps too she thinks the American fine man, and would haf been willing to go with him anyway. That I do not know. But believe me plees, that he has her in his house in Cambs. was her fault. Yes, indeed, she bring that on own self.’

‘You seem quite convinced that she is still there.’

Ratnadatta shrugged. ‘How can I say? But you haf tell me that she has not returned to her flat. So all points that she ees still with him.’

After a moment’s consideration Barney decided that the odds were all upon the Indian’s being right. He was obviously lying in his own defence about the part he had played on the previous Saturday night but, if he had cooked up this story about the American Colonel with the object of sending his captor off to Cambridgeshire on a wild-goose chase, he would have said that the day before he had actually seen Mary at the house called the Cedars. In this case the very fact that he would not swear to her being there made his account more likely to be trustworthy. From the afternoon onward Barney had been thinking of little else than the moment when he could bring Mary safely back to her flat. If she was no longer at the house in Cremorne, as far as he was concerned the raid on it could only prove a bitter disappointment. To bank on Ratnadatta’s having told the truth now seemed the better bet. Grabbing the trembling Indian by the arm, he said:

‘All right; get back into the car.’

Ratnadatta, holding his head rigid, wriggled in and, as Barney slammed the door on his side, asked anxiously, ‘Plees, my Lord; what do you mean to do with me?’

BOOK: The Satanist
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