Dark Conflict

by John Glasby

  ‘I think I’m beginning to understand,’ muttered Nayland, jerking his head towards the door. ‘It would be fatal to invite us now because then you’d have more than the required number. Is that it?’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,’ said Merrivale thickly. There was a tenseness about his stance which Nayland noticed instantly. It had been a shot in the dark as far as he was concerned, but it had struck home. So he hadn’t been wrong!

  ‘Then let me see what’s going on in that room.’

  Merrivale hesitated, then allowed his arms to fall limply to his sides and stood away from the door. All resistance seemed to have been drained out of him.

  Quickly, Nayland pushed open the door and stepped through. The fear began to come back with a rush. He turned savagely on Merrivale. ‘You fool! You utter, goddamned fool. Getting yourself mixed up in something like this. How deeply are you involved in it?’

  He felt suddenly sick in his stomach. There was a clock chiming eerily somewhere in the far distance, the strokes standing out as individual sounds in the weird stillness. But it was the interior of the room that held his attention. At first, he could scarcely believe what he saw.

  The entire floor of the room had been taken up and then replaced by small marble slabs of different colours laid in a queer, cabalistic design that was terrifyingly familiar, set in the middle of the floor. He felt his nostrils begin to close at the pungent smell that pervaded the entire room. It was an odour he couldn’t quite place although he had the idea that it was vitally important for him to recognize.

  In the very center of the marble floor, set in blue and red slabs, was a vast, many-sided figure with a weird tracery of signs around it. Tiny crystal cups glittered at the corners of a five-pointed star and these, he noticed, were filled with a clear, colourless liquid.

  With an effort, he thrust down the rising tide of revulsion in his brain. The impulse to turn, to grab Merrivale by force, and hustle him out of this accursed place into the car outside, was almost more than he could control.

  But that wouldn’t solve the long-term trouble, he reflected soberly. If anything, it would have the opposite effect, that of pushing Merrivale further into this unholy mess. The other could be both obstinate and pig-headed whenever he felt like it.

  He turned slowly to say something to the other but at that precise moment, a thick oily voice said softly: ‘More guests of yours, Mr. Merrivale? Why don’t you invite them in to join the party? I’m sure they’ll both find it extremely interesting.’

  Nayland whirled. Someone stepped out of the shadows directly into the light of the hallway. The man was short in stature, but the way he held himself and the broadness of his body made him appear taller than he actually was. He was wearing a dark blue robe that reached almost to the floor, covering a tailored dress suit.

  But it was his face that held Nayland’s attention. Broad and fleshy, stamped with a faintly cruel expression, with deep blue eyes that dominated his features. Nayland could feel that gaze boring into him uncomfortably.

  With an effort, he forced himself to meet it. Here, he thought, was the danger — for there was death and evil in this man’s eyes.

  Chapter Two – The Mask of Darkness

  Merrivale stood in the background looking acutely uncomfortable. Nayland watched him out of the comer of his eye. The other seemed ill at ease, his face twisted into an expression of indecision.

  ‘We’re all ready to begin,’ said the dark man, turning to speak to Merrivale. He seemed to have forgotten the others’ existence completely. ‘But before we do so, don’t you think you ought to introduce us?’

  Merrivale looked up quickly. ‘Why — yes, of course. This is Stephen Nayland and Richard Blake — Ernest Caltro.’

  ‘I must confess that I overheard a little of what you were saying a few moments ago, Mr. Nayland,’ said Caltro smoothly. ‘I see that you understand a little of what we are trying to do, but that you don’t agree with our work.’

  ‘I only know that what you’re about to do is unutterably evil,’ said Nayland carefully. At the moment, there was no reason to antagonize the other. But if it ever came to a showdown —

  Caltro smiled blandly. ‘I’m sorry you have such a bad opinion of us, we don’t deserve it really, you know. All we are seeking is knowledge. But as your friend has already told you, we are about to begin our meeting and,’ — he glanced down swiftly at the watch on his wrist — ‘it is important that we begin right on time. If you’ll forgive us.’

  It was more of a statement than a question and Nayland realized that somehow the other was beginning to gain control of the situation, to turn things to his own ends.

  But that was something that must not be allowed to happen. He racked his brain to think why tonight, of all nights, should be so important to these people. Clearly they were preparing for something big. This was going to be something more than the usual meetings they carried out.

  Then it came to him. November the seventeenth! Merrivale’s birthday. The most potent day for anything of this kind. Other little things began to slip into place, all adding up inside his mind. It was also the night of the full moon, although he had forgotten this completely since there had been no moon that evening because of the fog that shrouded the entire city.

  He spun on his heel and faced Merrivale. Perhaps there was still time to talk the other out of his intentions.

  ‘Listen, Merrivale,’ he said harshly. ‘I beg of you not to go through with this tonight. If you have to fall in with their plans, at least put it off until tomorrow so that we can have a good long talk beforehand. I’m only telling you this for your own good, believe me.’

  ‘But I don’t see that I can. I mean —’ Merrivale paused helplessly.

  ‘What my friend is trying to say is that everything has been most carefully prepared,’ said Caltro silkily. ‘It will be impossible to postpone it, I’m afraid. Completely out of the question. I’m quite sure that Mr. Merrivale appreciates the consequences if he fails to go through with this.’

  There was an undertone of menace to the other’s flat voice and his face seemed to have hardened momentarily.

  ‘Damn you, Caltro,’ snapped Nayland sharply. ‘Do you think that I can’t see through your little scheme? I’ve met your kind before, not only here but all over the world. I know you for what you are.’

  Caltro smiled. There was a curious look in his deep-set eyes as though some hidden demon had leapt up at the back of them and stared out into the world, naked and terrible. Then the expression was gone.

  ‘I’m afraid that you must know very little about me, Mr Nayland,’ Caltro continued smoothly. ‘Otherwise you would know that I am a man who goes through with a thing once he has started it.’ His features hardened. ‘But enough of this talk, we have work to do and time is getting short.’

  He glanced across at Merrivale and almost immediately the other said apologetically: ‘I’m afraid I must ask both you and Blake to leave right away, Nayland. I’ll see you tomorrow around nine o’clock if that’ll suit both of you.’

  There was an expression of pleading in his grey eyes that was not lost on Nayland.

  ‘Very well. If that’s the way you want it,’ Nayland shrugged. ‘It’s your house and your party but I beg of you to reconsider what you’re about to do. It may seem exciting on the face of things, but underneath it’s both rotten and highly dangerous. These are evil people. They won’t stop until they’ve made you one of them and by that time it will be too late for anyone to help you.’

  ‘I know what I’m doing, Stephen,’ muttered the other stiffly. He moved towards the outer door, waiting for them.

  Nayland looked across at Blake. ‘Let’s go,’ he said curtly. ‘There’s nothing more we can do here.’

  ‘I’m glad you realize that, Mr. Nayland,’ said Caltro in his thick oily voice. There was a look of malignant triumph on his broad features.

  Blake hesitated, his right hand clenched into a tight fist, th
en he stepped forward quickly. ‘By God,’ he hissed savagely, ‘if you’re trying to get Simon into your clutches. I’ll kill you myself.’

  ‘Careful, Richard, careful,’ warned Nayland hoarsely.

  Merrivale closed the door behind them as they stepped out into the drizzling rain. The mist seemed to have thinned appreciably and there were only a few swirling streamers still clinging to the houses and around the lights

  ‘Are you going to leave Merrivale back there with those fiends after all?’ asked Blake sharply as they got into the car and pulled away from the pavement into the middle of the road.

  Nayland shook his head. ‘Not if I can help it,’ he muttered grimly.

  ‘Then what do you intend to do?’

  ‘I’m not quite sure at the moment. There was no sense in creating a scene back there with that creature looking on. He was enjoying every minute of it.’

  ‘But you still think that Simon’s in danger?’

  Nayland pursed his lips. ‘He’s in terrible danger,’ he said hoarsely. ‘By that, I don’t mean that they’ll injure him physically, but they’ll take over his mind, utterly and completely.

  ‘By the time they’ve finished with him, he’ll be totally under their domination. Nothing that we or any of the psychiatrists can do will be able to alter that.’

  ‘But damn it all, Stephen. This is modern-day London. We aren’t living in the Dark Ages now. Then, I can quite see the superstitious people believing in such things as Black Magic and vampirism and all the rest of the mumbo-jumbo. But not now, surely.’

  ‘What difference do you think the century makes?’ said Nayland with a sharpness beyond his intention. He felt suddenly more on edge than ever before. ‘The worship of the Devil is as old as Christianity at least. Probably far older. And you wouldn’t say that that had died out, would you?’

  ‘No. I suppose not, but —’

  ‘Try to remember this, Richard. There are always two sides to every road, just as there are two sides to life itself. There’s the black and the white — the good and the evil. Both of them are always with us, no matter how hard we try to escape them and both are dangerous forces to be reckoned with.

  ‘Believe me, I’m not speaking without some experience of these things. If you’d seen as much horror and terror as I’ve witnessed during the past fifteen years or so, you’d realize why it’s so important to get Simon away from those fiends tonight.’

  Blake rumbled out a low laugh. He seemed tensed, but tried to look at ease as he leaned back in his seat. The sound of the tires on the wet surface of the road hummed in their ears.

  ‘I thought when I wrote you that letter that there was something going on at Merrivale’s. Maybe there is, and I’m prepared to admit that this fellow Caltro is a pretty good actor when it comes to scenes like that we had tonight, but the idea that he can really take away a man’s soul is ludicrous.’

  ‘Never underestimate these people, Richard,’ Nayland said quietly. ‘That could quite easily be fatal. I’ve seen what they can do to a man and believe me, it isn’t nice.’

  ‘Then what do you think we should do? We can’t come here and take him away by force. That manservant looked a damned tough customer and no doubt there are more of them ready to pitch into us if we start any trouble. And we can’t very well go to the police and say: Look, there are some Black Magicians trying to steal the soul of one of our friends. They’d lock us up before we knew where we were.’

  ‘That’s true, of course,’ Nayland nodded. ‘That’s one of the reasons I decided to leave when I did. They were on their guard then, ready for any move we might make. But somehow, I don’t think there’s much danger to Simon until midnight. That’s when they’ll reach the culmination of their ceremony. It’s up to us to break into his place without being seen and try to take them by surprise. We’ll both go armed, of course just in case, although it’s possible that guns won’t be of any use against what we might run up against in there.’

  ‘I’m with you. When do we leave?’

  Nayland checked his watch. ‘There’s plenty of time,’ he said flatly. ‘We don’t want to rush into anything with our eyes shut. Besides, did you notice anything strange in the hallway tonight?’

  ‘No — It looked exactly the same as it always did.’

  ‘That’s what I thought at first. It wasn’t until we were leaving that I noticed the object hanging above the door of the far room in which they were holding their fiendish ceremony.’

  Blake looked puzzled. ‘I don’t remember seeing anything unusual,’ he said. ‘That is, apart from the usual trophies Merrivale’s been collecting for as long as I can remember, but that was all.’

  ‘Not quite. There was one trophy there that I don’t recall ever having seen before. It took my attention immediately I noticed it. The Shaman’s headdress and mask. Lord knows where he got it from, but unless I miss my guess, it must have been stolen from some tribe and brought back here to London.’

  ‘Oh — that.’

  ‘You’ve seen it before?’ Nayland asked, genuine surprise in his voice.

  ‘He showed me it the last time I visited him. That must be almost eight months ago. He said he’d picked it up in some odd curio shop he stumbled across somewhere in the back streets of London. But what’s so important about that?’

  ‘Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything. But I’ve no doubts whatever that it’s the genuine article he has. I’d say that thing contains more evil than all of Merrivale’s other trophies put together. I only hope that Caltro hasn’t recognized its importance.’ The car reached one of the main streets and pulled into the main stream of traffic. The two men sat silent; Blake because he could think of nothing more to say, and had to concentrate on driving, and Nayland because he was, once more, absorbed with his own thoughts and fears. He felt a trifle uncertain, not sure whether he was doing the right thing or not in proposing to go back and try to take these people by surprise.

  ‘You know, we could be letting ourselves in for a lot of trouble if you’re wrong, Stephen,’ said Blake suddenly. ‘Simon made it perfectly clear to us that he didn’t want to see us again tonight and, after all, he is thirty-eight, when he ought to know his own mind and make his own decisions.’

  ‘I always seem to do foolish things on the spur of the moment. Maybe that’s why I’m still alive and sane. And we’ve got to make our move tonight: do you realize what day it is today, as far as Simon’s concerned?’

  ‘Today?’ There was a question in Blake’s eyes, then he gave a little start. ‘Why yes, it’s his birthday. I’d forgotten all about it. And you think this has some bearing on what is happening tonight?’

  ‘I’m sure of it. If they intend to make him one of them, to get him to cross the Abyss, then today is the most potent day of the year for that purpose. Everything is right for it. The stars have returned to the positions they had on the day he was born. The signs are extremely favourable.’

  He checked his watch again. It was a little after eleven o’clock.

  ‘We’ll go along to my flat and pick up a couple of revolvers,’ he said tensely. ‘By that time, we’ll be ready to go back.’

  Chapter Three – Something Evil

  The house, resting in darkness behind drawn curtains, seemed deserted and sound asleep. Nayland moved forward slowly, watchful and alert, aware of Blake beside him.

  The storm that had been hanging over the city for almost three hours had moved away into the distance and although lightning still flashed along the northern horizon, the sky overhead was almost clear of clouds and moonlight splashed a brilliant patch of spreading light across the moist earth that lay between them and the nearest window — making things doubly difficult in case they did have someone watching for them to return.

  It was impossible to tell whether they had fooled Caltro or not. Nayland had the impression that nobody could read what went on behind those impassive features.

  He stood silent for a long moment. An owl hooted, somewhere clos
e at hand, muttering a throaty warning among the trees. Somewhere in the distance a church bell chimed the quarter hour, the echoes faint and far away.

  Nayland found himself shivering slightly, uncontrollably.

  ‘Not a sign that there’s anyone there,’ whispered Blake softly. ‘No lights in any of the rooms.’

  ‘Maybe they’ve drawn the curtains over them so that nothing shows.’ Nayland shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. ‘Either that, or they’re no longer here, but somehow I don’t think so.’

  Carefully, they made their way round to the rear of the house, retreating into the shadows, moving through the thorn bushes that edged the lawn. Something slid away through the undergrowth, shrieking a thin wail of fear as it scurried across a patch of moonlit grass.

  Nayland’s pounding heart stopped beating for a moment. But it was only a cat. A half-starved, mangy creature that fled for the darkness as though all the devils in hell were on its heels. With an effort, he steadied himself and forced his heart into a slower, more normal pace.

  Little thoughts were buzzing around in his head like flies. It was extremely likely that they were fools coming out here at this time without making any real preparations. They weren’t up against ordinary people now, he reflected. These people possessed terrible powers of darkness that he had witnessed not once, but many times in the past. If anything went wrong . . .

  A few moments later, they reached the rear of the house and paused in the shadow of the trees before going forward again. On the face of it, the place seemed deserted. No lights. Not a single sound. But it had that odd waiting quality hanging over it and he had the feeling that eyes were watching them out of the darkness, following their every move.

  He had the chill sensation that they were walking directly into a nightmare; that the high walls in front of them and the tall trees all around them on either side, formed a clinging shell and there was nothing on the other side of it all but death and fear and utter horror.

  ‘Can’t see a damned thing out there.’ Blake’s words reached him eerily from the moon-thrown shadows.