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The Forbidden Territory

Page 31

by Dennis Wheatley


  De Richleau smiled. “Yes, I have already thought of that.” He moved softly to the big french windows and opened them wide. “It is a lovely night, is it not?” he murmured. “These rooms in summer must be quite charming, the view is superb.”

  Leshkin shivered slightly as the March air penetrated the warm room. “What do you mean to do?” he asked.

  “You are not interested in the sleeping city?” De Richleau moved away from the window. “But of course one would not expect that from you, who seek to destroy all the beauty of life—you have your eyes so much on the gutters that you have forgotten the existence of the stars.”

  “What do you mean to do?” repeated Leshkin thickly. There was something terrifying about this quiet, sinister man with his slow measured movements.

  “I will tell you.” De Richleau put down his cigar again and picked up a toothglass from the washstand. He took the small bottle from his pocket, uncorked it carefully, and poured the contents into the glass.

  “Ha! you mean to poison me,” Leshkin exclaimed. “I will not drink—I refuse.”

  The Duke shook his head. “You wrong me, my dear Leshkin—that is not my idea. It seems that in this question of extradition it is necessary to prove identity. You are the only person who can identify Mr. Simon Aron, Mr. Rex Van Ryn, and myself as the men concerned in the shooting that night at Romanovsk.” He carefully picked up the tumbler in his left hand. “If you were to become blind, Leshkin, you could not identify us, could you?”

  “What are you going to do?” Fear had come into the Kommissar’s eyes.

  De Richleau held up the glass once more. “This,” he said, softly, “is vitriol. I purpose to throw it in your face. You will be blinded beyond any hope of recovery. After that you may go back to Russia if you will.”

  “No—no—” Leshkin cringed away, an awful horror dawned on his coarse features.

  The Duke stepped round the little table, fixing the Kommissar with his brilliant eyes. Leshkin backed again quickly towards the window; he held his hands in terror before his face. “No, no, I will go back—I will destroy the extradition—”

  “I fear it is too late.” De Richleau took another step forward; Leshkin made a sudden movement, as if to rush him, but as the glass was raised he gave back quickly. Now he was standing between the open windows.

  “Are you ready?”

  A grim smile played round the corners of the Duke’s firm mouth.

  “Shoot me,” said Leshkin. “Shoot me!”

  De Richleau waved the Kommissar’s automatic gently up and down. “You would prefer to die?” he asked evenly.

  “No … no … I am not ready to die … give me time.”

  “So—” the Duke mocked him. “You still think that God will help you when man will not? I am surprised that a man like you should believe in these effete superstitions. What is death, after all, but a cessation of activity?”

  Leshkin was out on the balcony now, his hands behind him on the low stone coping, sweat was pouring down his brutal face.

  “I prefer that you should be blinded. To shoot you might inconvenience myself.” With a sudden gesture the Duke raised the tumbler.

  Leshkin shuddered and gave back once more. He shrieked as the contents of the glass hit him full between the eyes. For a second he swayed, wildly endeavouring to regain his balance, clutching with desperate fingers at the empty air—then, with a little moan, he disappeared into the depths below.

  De Richleau smiled as he carelessly slipped the little bottle into his pocket, he replaced the Kommissar’s pistol beside the bed—the innocent borrowed weapon, for which he had no bullets, went into his pocket too. He laughed softly at his own handsome reflection in the mirror as he straightened his white tie. Then, picking up his cigar, he left the room as quietly as he had come.

  As Leshkin hurtled towards the pavement a hundred feet below he was conscious only of one swift thought—his enemy had tricked him—it was nothing but cold water trickling down behind his ears.

  A Note on the Author

  DENNIS WHEATLEY

  Dennis Wheatley (1897 – 1977) was an English author whose prolific output of stylish thrillers and occult novels made him one of the world's best-selling writers from the 1930s through the 1960s.

  Wheatley was the eldest of three children, and his parents were the owners of Wheatley & Son of Mayfair, a wine business. He admitted to little aptitude for schooling, and was expelled from Dulwich College, London. In 1919 he assumed management of the family wine business but in 1931, after a decline in business due to the depression, he began writing.

  His first book, The Forbidden Territory, became a bestseller overnight, and since then his books have sold over 50 million copies worldwide. During the 1960s, his publishers sold one million copies of Wheatley titles per year, and his Gregory Sallust series was one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming's James Bond stories.

  During the Second World War, Wheatley was a member of the London Controlling Section, which secretly coordinated strategic military deception and cover plans. His literary talents gained him employment with planning staffs for the War Office. He wrote numerous papers for the War Office, including suggestions for dealing with a German invasion of Britain.

  Dennis Wheatley died on 11th November 1977. During his life he wrote over 70 books and sold over 50 million copies.

  Discover books by Dennis Wheatley published by Bloomsbury Reader at

  www.bloomsbury.com/DennisWheatley

  Duke de Richleau

  The Forbidden Territory

  The Devil Rides Out

  The Golden Spaniard

  Three Inquisitive People

  Strange Conflict

  Codeword Golden Fleece

  The Second Seal

  The Prisoner in the Mask

  Vendetta in Spain

  Dangerous Inheritance

  Gateway to Hell

  Gregory Sallust

  Black August

  Contraband

  The Scarlet Impostor

  Faked Passports

  The Black Baroness

  V for Vengeance

  Come into My Parlour

  The Island Where Time Stands Still

  Traitors' Gate

  They Used Dark Forces

  The White Witch of the South Seas

  Julian Day

  The Quest of Julian Day

  The Sword of Fate

  Bill for the Use of a Body

  Roger Brook

  The Launching of Roger Brook

  The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

  The Rising Storm

  The Man Who Killed the King

  The Dark Secret of Josephine

  The Rape of Venice

  The Sultan's Daughter

  The Wanton Princess

  Evil in a Mask

  The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware

  The Irish Witch

  Desperate Measures

  Molly Fountain

  To the Devil a Daughter

  The Satanist

  Lost World

  They Found Atlantis

  Uncharted Seas

  The Man Who Missed the War

  Espionage

  Mayhem in Greece

  The Eunuch of Stamboul

  The Fabulous Valley

  The Strange Story of Linda Lee

  Such Power is Dangerous

  The Secret War

  Science Fiction

  Sixty Days to Live

  Star of Ill-Omen

  Black Magic

  The Haunting of Toby Jugg

  The KA of Gifford Hillary

  Unholy Crusade

  Short Stories

  Mediterranean Nights

  Gunmen, Gallants and Ghosts

  This electronic edition published in 2013 by Bloomsbury Reader

  Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square,

  London WC1B 3DP

  First published in 1933 by Hutchinson & Co. Ltd.


  Copyright © 1933 Dennis Wheatley

  All rights reserved

  You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise

  make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means

  (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying,

  printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the

  publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication

  may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  The moral right of the author is asserted.

  eISBN: 9781448212552

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