Gateway to Hell

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Simon soothingly. ‘But all this is beside the point.’

  ‘It’s not,’ she retorted furiously. ‘It is the reason why I’m here. As I’ve told you, I became a Freedom Marcher campaigning for Equal Rights. I wrote articles, but the paper in my rotten little home town refused to publish them. I went on protest marches and spoke on street corners. I got the pay-off I might have expected. The School Board decided that I was a bad influence on children, so I lost my job. My parents are dead, and I lived alone. After I’d been sacked, I was hard put to earn a living. In the South No one wanted to employ a girl who was pro-Negro. I suppose I could have become a whore, but I was a virgin and wanted to remain that way until I met a man whom I liked enough to marry. To get enough to eat I had to take dimes they could ill afford from my Negro friends, for giving private tuition to their children.’

  Nella paused a moment to get her breath, then hurried on. ‘A month or two after I’d been jeered out of my school by rotten little white children, I was approached by one of the leaders in the campaign for Equal Rights. He told me that they were determined to win through, but could hope to do so only if their efforts were properly co-ordinated. To have established a headquarters in the States was out of the question. The F.B.I. would have got wind of it and, on some filthy excuse, had the police raid the place, beat up everybody there and throw them into prison. So they had established a bureau in South America, at a place where there wasn’t a Federal agent within five hundred miles and there they were planning a world-wide campaign aimed at achieving Black Power.’

  ‘Black Power,’ Simon repeated. ‘That’s a new one on me.’

  ‘It was on me, too. But for them to secure a real say in how the countries they lived in are run seemed to me a very worthwhile project. This man told me that, at their secret headquarters, they were terribly short of people who were competent to draft manifestos, or knew anything about India, Pakistan and North Africa, as well as the problems we were faced with in the States. He offered me a job there. I took it and was flown out to La Paz. then down to Sala de Uyuni.’

  ‘What did you find there?’ Simon interjected.

  ‘A town of hutments, where two or three hundred people were all working for the same end. They were of many races, but there were comparatively few whites. To begin with, I enjoyed it enormously. It was wonderful to meet people from so many countries and discuss with them how the white tyranny could be overthrown, so that everyone in the world had the same chances, rights and share in God’s blessings. Of course, we all knew that it was a long-term project. We could not hope for big results until the sixties, or perhaps even the seventies. But in every continent we were building up cells and chains of command; so that, when the time was ripe, Black Power would be really formidable.’

  ‘You say that, to begin with, you enjoyed it enormously. What went wrong later?’

  ‘It was the man I was working under. His name is El Aziz and he is a Moroccan. He persistently endeavoured to seduce me, and I wouldn’t play.’

  ‘So you do draw the line about colour when it comes to going to bed with a man?’

  ‘No. Oh no; it wasn’t that. For a husband I’d prefer a Black man. They’re nearly always kinder to their wives. It was … well, although I’m twenty-seven, as I told you I was still a virgin. The fact is I … I suppose I’m just naturally frigid. I’ve always found the thought of sex repulsive.’

  Simon nodded understandingly. ‘I see. Ummm. What happened then?’

  ‘It is far from healthy up on the Sala. There are many marshes and swamps that breed fevers. That is why even the Andean Indians shun the place, and it was such a good choice to carry on secret activities. Most of the Negro folk seem to be immune. But whites and Eurasians need regular medication and, every few months, they are sent away for a change of air.

  ‘My turn came soon after Christmas, and a party of us were flown down to Viña del Mar. We spent ten days there, having a lovely time, then we were brought up to Santiago so that we could see something of the capital before returning to our jobs. A Jamaican mulatto named Harry Benito was in charge of us. He made all the arrangements and paid the bills. Yesterday afternoon he told me he was going to give me a special treat and take me to a party. The other women were quite jealous, because he had singled me out. He had told me it was to be a late party; so I wasn’t surprised that we didn’t leave the little hotel where we were staying until after ten o’clock.

  ‘He drove me out to that big house. When we got there I was told it was to be a fancy-dress affair, and taken to a room where there were a lot of animal costumes, and other women changing into them. I’ve always loved cats, so I chose this one. Then we joined the men and had a few drinks. I’m sure Benito put something into mine, because for some while afterwards I didn’t properly take in what was going on. It wasn’t until I was out in the garden that my mind began to clear. Everyone was gathered round a long table, and to my amazement a lovely woman who hadn’t got a stitch of clothing on came out of the house, accompanied by a man dressed as a goat. The two of them mounted the table and sat down on sort of thrones. But, if you were watching from among those trees, you must have seen them, and what went on.’

  ‘Ummm,’ murmured Simon. ‘My friend and I were there from the beginning.’

  ‘Well, the next thing I realised was that I had Benito on one side of me and El Aziz on the other. It wasn’t until much later that it struck me that the two of them must have hatched a plot to get me there. I was still terribly muzzy when they all formed a long line. Automatically I moved forward between the two men; then I found myself staring at the naked bottom of the man who was dressed as a goat. Before I could stop him, El Aziz suddenly put a hand behind my head and pushed it down, so that my face was pressed for a moment against the warm flesh. I was utterly revolted and almost sick. As I gave a gasp and jerked my face away, El Aziz whispered in my ear, “If you make a scene, we’ll cut your throat.”

  ‘From that moment I was petrified with fear. I would have given anything, anything, to get away; but I simply didn’t dare attempt to. The drumming began to make my heart beat faster, and my head began to ache. When the feast started, they tried to make me eat, stuffing food into my mouth. But I couldn’t swallow anything solid, and spat it out. I did gulp down some wine, though. I thought it might give the courage to try to escape. There must have been something in the wine, because I felt a strange sensation and became … well, you know what happened, so I may as well say it … all moist and itching between the thighs. I’ve no doubt that El Aziz had given me an aphrodisiac. If it hadn’t been for that, I’m sure that when the orgy started I should have resisted, whatever they had threatened to do to me. I did resist to some extent. Yet, in a way, I felt an urge to let it happen and be for good free of my inhibition. Then, when I did, I suffered absolute hell. The pain was simply terrible.’

  At that point, Nella burst into a flood of tears. Patting her shoulder, Simon endeavoured to comfort her. There, there, my dear. Must have been ghastly for you. Don’t wonder you went berserk when this chap El Aziz pushed you into the arms of a second man. But don’t worry. You’ve nothing more to fear. We’ll look after you. I promise we will.’

  For all the good his words did, they might have fallen on deaf ears. Ignoring them, Nella continued to sob as though she would never stop. She was still crying bitterly when Richard appeared. He was carrying a small suitcase and over his other arm had a blue cloak. To Simon he said:

  ‘At first, Don Caesar practically refused to believe my account of tonight’s doings, and he was anything but pleased about our having brought the woman here. But I offered to take him out and show him the bullet holes in the boot of Philo’s car. After that he agreed that, in the circumstances, as we are strangers in Santiago, the only course open to us was to come here and ask his help. He went upstairs then, and came down with this old suitcase. It’s got some of his wife’s things in, including a nightie, a toothbrush, comb and so on. Anywa
y, all that’s needed to make our renegade witch respectable enough for us to get a room for her at an hotel.’

  The three of them were on the verandah outside the summer house. Taking a pace forward, Richard thrust the suitcase at the still weeping Nella with one hand and, grasping her shoulder with the other, gave her a quick shake.

  ‘Now then, young woman: You brought this on yourself, and no good will come of snivelling over it. Take this inside and get yourself dressed. We can’t hang about here all night.’

  Coming unsteadily to her feet, Nella took the case and obediently walked through the door into the semi-darkness, while the two men turned their backs.

  During the few minutes she took to change, Simon gave Richard a condensed account of what she had told him, and ended by saying, ‘So you see, the poor girl isn’t really to blame for getting mixed up with this unholy crew; and we must be gentle with her.’

  ‘I’ve not suggested that we should actually apply the thumbscrews,’ Richard replied testily. ‘But you’re a sight too softhearted, Simon. The silly bitch has brought this on herself. From what you tell me, she is a typical do-gooder, and it’s those people who run round carrying torches for this and that who stir up half the trouble in the world. It’s interesting about this Black Power thing, though. Such a movement might cause endless trouble. We must get out of her everything she knows about it.’

  Nella rejoined them, wearing the blue cloak over a dark dress and carrying the suitcase and the cat costume. Richard took the latter from her, and said, ‘We’ll jettison this on the way to the city. Then we’ll get our driver to drop you at a small hotel where you can spend the rest of the night.’

  ‘Ner,’ countered Simon. ‘We’ll take her to the Hilton. Promised to look after her. Mean to see she’s all right.’

  ‘As you wish,’ Richard shrugged, then turned to Nella. ‘Our driver knows nothing about what went on in the grounds of that place, and I don’t want him to; so please refrain from talking until we get to the hotel.’

  Walking round to the front of the house, they got into the car. When it had covered half a mile, Richard threw the cat robe out of the window. Ten minutes later, Philo set them down outside the Hilton and, with evident relief, drove away.

  With the calm assurance natural to him, Richard asked the night clerk for a room for the lady. While she filled in the usual form, he took a few paces back from the desk and said in a low voice to Simon, ‘We’ll take her up to our suite first, and get what we can out of her.’

  ‘Why not wait till the morning?’ Simon demurred. ‘It’s after two o’clock. Poor child needs some sleep.’

  ‘Poor child, my foot,’ retorted Richard. ‘I’m not wasting a moment until I find out if she can tell us anything about Rex.’

  ‘O.K. then.’ Simon was already carrying Nella’s case. Walking up to the desk, he collected the key to the room she had been given, and the three of them went up in the lift.

  As soon as they were in their sitting room, Richard went over to the drinks table and mixed for them all badly-needed brandies and soda. Handing one to Nella, he said:

  ‘Now, young lady. Mr Aron has passed on to me what you told him about yourself. You’ve been through a very bad time tonight and, naturally, we are sorry for you. But we were not lurking among those trees out of idle curiosity or for the good of our health. We have reason to believe that through your—er—friends, we may be able to trace a friend of ours who has been missing for some weeks. While you were up at this place Sala-something, did you happen to meet, or hear anything of, a compatriot of yours named Rex Van Ryn?’

  Nella hesitated for a moment, then she replied, ‘The name rings a bell. Yes, I remember now. Isn’t he a very big man with a sort of ugly yet attractive face?’

  Simon gave a jerky nod. That’s Rex. What d’you know about him?’

  She shook her head. ‘Nothing really. I saw him only once; he was with a man they call “The Prince”, who is the head of the movement. I asked the person I was standing beside your friend’s name, only out of curiosity, because he was such a splendid specimen of manhood.’

  ‘So Rex is up there!’ Richard’s brown eyes lit up. ‘And hobnobbing with the top brass. How extraordinary. It’s almost unbelievable. What could possibly have led him to get himself mixed up in this?’

  ‘Maybe he’s not there of his own free will,’ Simon suggested. ‘This place sounds so isolated that escape from it may be next to impossible. If so, he could be a prisoner, but allowed to walk about.’

  ‘That must be it.’ Richard turned again to Nella. Tell us now what you know about this movement.’

  Her face took on a sullen look. ‘Why should I? What has it got to do with you? I can see you’re not in sympathy with it.’

  ‘By God, I’m not! It sounds about as dangerous as anything could be.’

  ‘I don’t agree,’ Nella protested angrily. ‘Its aim is to bring equality to all the people of colour in the world, to secure for them a fair share of all the good things of which they have been deprived all too long.’

  With difficulty Richard retained his temper. After a moment he said, ‘Now listen, my girl. You’re talking through your hat. You can’t possibly have grasped the significance of this thing you’ve got yourself involved in. I’ve nothing against the Negro people, any more than I have against poor whites. Well all like to see the slums abolished, every child given a decent education and a fair chance to lead a prosperous, happy life. But this Black Power idea, which woolly-minded Liberals like you have fallen for, and are abetting, is something utterly different. Surely you can see that, after what happened to you tonight?’

  ‘No, I can’t. The two things have nothing to do with one another. El Aziz and Harry Benito happened to belong to this awful sect—Devil-worshippers, I suppose you’d call them. And they tricked me into going to that house. But none of the others in the party I was with was present. They could have had no idea what would take place, otherwise they wouldn’t have said how lucky I was to be chosen by Benito as his guest. They are all decent, respectable people. So are those up at Sala de Uyuni. Nothing of that kind takes place up there.’

  ‘Maybe it doesn’t; that is, as far as you know.’

  ‘If it did, El Aziz would have fixed it for me to be taken to a meeting of that kind, weeks ago. I tell you, the people I have been working with are some of the finest I’ve ever met. Many of them have given up good positions to travel to the Sala and serve the cause for nothing but their keep. We’re dedicated to securing equal rights for Negro people, and I’m not going to give you any information about the movement that might enable you to sabotage it.’

  Richard shook his head wearily. ‘I don’t doubt that you’re right about most of these people, but I’m convinced that you’re not about the leaders. They are obviously trading on the sympathies of idealists and making use of them. The fact is that you have fallen into the hands of the enemy. By that I do not mean Negro people. They have the same sort of bodies and urges to kindness or cruelty as whites. In both cases, the majority are good and only the minority bad. And surely you can see that the men who started this Black Power idea must be evil?

  ‘Just think what will happen if they succeed in their plans. In a few years’ time this organisation you are helping to build will be given the word to begin operating. There will be increased agitation everywhere. That will lead to riots and clashes with the police. No city with a Negro population will be immune. By the sixties, there will develop a sort of sporadic civil war in the United States, and by the seventies it will have spread to Europe. There will be bloody street battles, rape, arson, murder, the lot. Nothing could be better calculated to destroy civilisation. Law and order will go by the board, and your Negro people are going to suffer even worse than the whites; because you can be sure that the whites will fight back. They won’t pull any punches, either. When their shops are looted, their houses burned and their women raped, they’ll take the law into their own hands and go out to kill. An
d, believe you me, white men are tougher than blacks. Thousands of innocent people whose lot you are trying to better will be massacred. That is the situation that you and your friends are working to bring about.’

  Neila’s eyes distended with horror at the picture Richard had painted. She stared at him and murmured, ‘Do … do you really believe that?’

  ‘I do,’ he replied firmly. ‘I’m certain of it. Without realising it, you have been fighting on the Devil’s side. His one object ever since the Creation has been to bring about disruption. One of his names is “The Lord of Misrule”. And what could possibly be better calculated to bring about disruption than this Black Power movement? It is Satan’s most powerful weapon in his remorseless fight to dominate mankind. Now, you really must tell us all you have learned about it.’

  ‘Ner,’ Simon intervened. ‘Neila’s been through a terrible time, and she’s about all in. Tomorrow, or rather in a few hours’ time, when we’ve all had a bit of shut-eye.’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ she repeated miserably. ‘Oh, what am I going to do? I can’t go back to the Sala now, even if I wanted to. I’ve no money, not even clothes, and nowhere to go.’

  ‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ said Simon. ‘We’ll look after you. Have you no family at all?’

  ‘I’ve an aunt and uncle who live up in Connecticut.’

  ‘Couldn’t you go to them?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I could. Up there in New England, there is not the prejudice against sympathisers with the Equal Rights movement that there is in the South. I’ve got quite good qualifications, so up there I could probably get another job as a teacher.’

  Simon nodded vigorously. ‘That’s the idea then. When we’ve had some shut-eye, we’ll go shopping and get you an outfit, then buy you a seat on an aircraft to take you north. You needn’t worry about mun, either. I’ve plenty in New York. I’ll give you a draft on my bank there for five hundred dollars. That should keep you going until you get a job.’