Such Power is Dangerous

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘That is rather what I feared myself. I was not sufficiently sanguine to imagine for a moment that we should sweep the board at our first attempt, but we have not done so badly. The one thing we must guard against now is any sort of organised opposition. If they remain as separate entities I am quite confident that we can deal with them at our leisure.’

  ‘That’s so—and as I see it our present programme is that we set to work quietly on Handsome and Amos—and go out to smash the German.’

  ‘Exactly. Now tell me, if when we make things uncomfortable for Schultzer he becomes stubborn and refuses to join us—are any of the others likely to come to his assistance?’

  ‘That sure brings us back to Barton Druce—he’s the only guy in the bunch strong enough to carry Schultzer after the trouble that’s coming to him from your’s truly.’

  ‘If Druce comes to his rescue, do you consider that any of the others might join up with them?’

  ‘I certainly do. Uncle Andy’s thick as thieves with Barton Druce, they’ll row in together for sure, an’ that’ll make us three all—with the other guys hanging in the balance. Gee—what a chance for Issey Vandelstein! He’ll go to the highest bidder every time—and what a sum we’d have to pay!’ Hinckman sat forward suddenly. ‘Now wait a moment—I’m beginning to see things clearer now. That’s Issey’s game, I’d lay ten grand to a single buck. He’ll prod Hugo an’ Uncle Andy into forming an opposition group with Barton Druce as leader. That’s going to prove mighty awkward!’

  Lord Gavin nodded. ‘It is the one thing above all others which we must prevent—you say this man Druce was particularly bitter in his opposition?’

  ‘An’ how!’ Hinckman gave a short, hard laugh, then he proceeded to give Gavin Fortescue some of the choicer portions of Barton Druce’s scathing denunciation.

  ‘Dear—dear! what vehemence.’ Lord Gavin smiled mirthlessly and a sinister light crept into his cold eyes. ‘And you say that he is the only individual round whom these other people are likely to gather against us…. Well, we had anticipated the possibility of certain serious eventualities arising—it seems that such an eventuality has arisen almost at the beginning, instead of the near the end, of our campaign. It is obvious, my dear Hinckman that this honourable, but stupidly belligerent person must.… Now what is that delightful expression which you employ over here? Ah! I remember now. The unfortunate Mr. Druce must be “taken for a ride”!’

  5

  The ‘Z’ Projector

  Avril Bamborough was reading a novel in the hotel garden. It was a week since the meeting of the powers, although Avril knew nothing of that, and a fortnight since her arrival in Hollywood—but she had not yet started to make Hugo Schultzer’s film.

  She was anxious to get to work, but when she mentioned that to Hugo he had seemed worried and, for him, ill-tempered. As her salary cheque was sent along at the end of each week, she had no real cause to grumble, and life was quite pleasant lazing in the sunshine. She had discovered that Ronnie Sheringham was staying in the same hotel—the Garden Palace—and she had seen quite a lot of him.

  She had met all the other members of the cast who were featuring in Schultzer’s production, and a small army of people who had a finger in the pie, every variety of technician and expert. Each one had taken her aside at the first opportunity and explained with the utmost gravity that he or she, as the case might be, was really the one person upon whom the success or failure of the picture depended. The person she would really have liked to have met was the author. She felt that his views on the interpretation of her part might have been of considerable value—but nobody seemed to have heard of him, except the continuity man, who said vaguely that ‘He reackoned it ’ud be the same guy he’d met a year or so back in Noo York City, the poor bum hall-roomed in a snide apartment house way out in Brooklyn.’

  There were conferences most mornings in the Ubiquitous Studios, where there was much talk but little done. Schultzer and his principal executive—Eberhard Lutsach—were in a constant state of friction, and when one arrived the other walked out. Avril found the unsettled atmosphere trying after the general good feeling she had been used to in the English studios, but it seemed to her that it was not in Ubiquitous alone that a state of unrest existed. There were endless comings and goings between the key men of the other studios, and constant whisperings in corners. She wondered more than once if Hollywood was always in this ferment or if there really was anything significant in that strange conversation which she had overheard at Clair de la Lune’s garden party. Ronnie Sheringham went completely vague when she questioned him about it.

  Avril had been to a number of parties, and was beginning to find out which invitations it was safe to accept. On two occasions during the first week she had landed herself in the type of entertainment which was very definitely not the kind she was prepared to enjoy. She had left early with her rather large mouth very tightly shut. Angelo Donelli had been present at both. He hovered in the background of her existence all the time, and although she did not wish to hurt the little man’s feelings she disliked his blatant attempts at seduction intensely, and she was just a little bit afraid of him. He was an unclean little beast, but possessed of a devilish persistency. Returning the flowers he sent, and refusing all his invitations failed to discourage him in the least.

  A shadow fell across Avril’s book, and looking up she saw him standing before her.

  ‘Afternoon!’ he cried gaily, with a sweep of his soft hat. ‘You coma joy-ride with Angelo in his new automobile, eh?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, thank you—I am expecting Mr. Schultzer at any moment.’

  ‘Ah, no matter—you coma with Angelo—verrie nice—we maka da whoopee—yes?’

  ‘No, really, Mr. Donelli—it’s quite impossible this afternoon.’

  ‘You verrie unkind to poor Angelo—what for dis evenin’ den?—Angelo throw a party, eh?—plenty people—plenty talk—you coma as star guest, we maka one great time.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I’m fixed up for this evening, and all next week—after that I shall be working on my picture, so I shan’t go out at all.’

  The Italian’s eyes went dark, he fingered his small moustache with a beringed hand as he scowled at her. ‘You high-hatta Angelo, eh!—Allaright!—Angelo not der boy to be high hat in ‘urrey! He maka plenty trouble—you see!’

  Avril thought he was one of the most unpleasant people that she had ever met. There was something utterly indecent about his hot, lecherous stare—he seemed to strip the very clothes from her body by his hungry glance.

  ‘I have no wish to high-hat anybody,’ she said sharply, ‘but I’ve told you before, Mr. Donelli, that you are wasting your time, and the sooner you realise it, the better.’

  ‘Goot day to you, Miss Bamborough—der gar is outside if you are ready.’

  Avril turned gratefully to Schultzer as he joined them, then, picking up her gloves and parasol, she gave a brief nod to the scowling Italian, and left him.

  As she crossed the lawn she caught sight of Ronnie, lazing in the sunshine on the first floor balcony of the hotel, his hands in his pockets, his feet on the rail. He smiled a greeting to her as she went past with Schultzer and she waved in reply. She had not realised until then that his room must be next door but one to her own.

  When they were seated in the back of Schultzer’s car, the German turned heavily towards her. ‘I take you dis afternoon to der house of Barton Druce—you haf nod met him pefore, I dink.’

  ‘No—I met Nelson Druce the first day I was here—but I’ve never met the father.’

  ‘So!—he is a goot friend to me—I hope to make goot pusiness with him.’ After which announcement Mr. Schultzer lapsed into heavy silence.

  The big car tore along the dusty road, eating up the miles that lay between Hollywood City and the beautiful residential district of Beverley Hills. At last they turned into a long, straight avenue with wide lawns on either hand, and a well-kept garden gay with flowers. The l
ong, low house rose up to meet them, and the car came to a standstill in front of a pillared porch.

  Barton Druce himself came out to welcome them. In his well-cut white flannels and grey jacket, his iron-grey hair brushed smoothly back, he looked a fine example of the best type of American big business man.

  ‘Mr. Druce, I haf bleasure to bresent to you the young lady that I mention—Miss Avril Bamborough.’ Schultzer made a little stiff, jerky bow.

  ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Bamborough—come right in. Glad to see you, Hugo—how’s things?’ Barton Druce led the way through three wide, airy rooms, leading one into another, to his study at the back of the house.

  ‘Not goot—not goot at all.’ The elderly German looked very tired as he sank into a chair.

  Barton Druce nodded. ‘Well, I guess you’d better spill the beans; I figure Miss Bamborough is acquainted with the situation more or less?’

  ‘She will haf to know—and Miss Bamborough will unterstand that what we haf to say is gonfidential.’

  Avril smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘or would you rather that I left you? I am dying to walk round Mr. Druce’s lovely garden.’

  ‘For der moment—no, later berhaps.’ Schultzer turned to Druce. ‘I haf more drouble with Lutsach—dis morning he throw up his gondract—he has gone now to Hinckman.’

  ‘Is that so? That’s sure hard on you, Hugo—you can sue for damages, of course—but lord knows when you’ll get ’em, and that don’t give you back your best man.’

  ‘With him goes also Tzarkowski, my best gamera hand. How I can replace these beoples I do not know.’

  ‘It lets you out of their high salaries, anyhow—I’ve got a whole bunch myself that I’d be glad to see the back of—if the T.C.E. would take ’em.’

  ‘Jawohl—but in der meantime how do I make my bictures? Last week I lost also Penson, who is der best exbert in Hollywood for motion bicture dress design. Vendy Clauss also makes drouble—she ask a new gondract yesterday—she will haf more money or else she break der bresent one. If she go also, how will I my historic bicture gomblete?’

  ‘Well, I guess we must do what we can to help you out, Hugo, and about Miss Bamborough’s picture we’ll come to some arrangement—I’m sure not goin’ to let that rouster Hinckman have it all his own way.’

  As Avril looked out through the open window she saw a tall, fair girl, who was swinging a sun-bonnet in one hand, stroll across the lawn towards them, and she recognised her at once as Nelson Druce’s fiancée, Vitelma Loveday.

  Barton Druce had seen her, too, and hailed her. ‘Come here, kid, and meet Miss Bamborough—take her for a walk around to see the flowers. Miss Bamborough—meet Miss Loveday, my little daughter-to-be!’

  The little daughter-to-be held out a carefully manicured hand. ‘I’m real glad to be acquainted, Miss Bamborough.’ She smiled a lazy, affected smile. ‘I guess we’ll leave the big boys to talk their business, while I pick your brains on the latest things from Paris in the glad rags line.’

  Avril thought Miss Loveday an extraordinarily handsome girl—she had enormous eyes, and perfect features, her figure was straight and slim. Side by side they sauntered round the garden.

  ‘Are you making a film just now?’ Avril enquired.

  ‘Me?—not likely!’ The fair girl looked surprised. ‘I’ll be Mrs. Pacific Players Junior, in the fall—why should I worry to make pictures any more?’

  ‘I should have thought that, as a star, you would want to go on for your own satisfaction—I think I should.’

  ‘You don’t say! Well, maybe it’s all right for those who like it, but it’s too near hard work for me, an’ anyhow a star’s life’s limited—what’s the good-of hanging on? It’s sure better to get out while the goin’s good.’

  Avril paused in front of a herbaceous border which was a riot of gorgeous colour. ‘Isn’t that divine?’ she said.

  Vitelma Loveday shrugged her beautiful shoulders. ‘I’ll say it’s swell,’ she condescended, ‘but you should see the exotics. You can keep the garden flowers—it’s exotics for mine!’

  Avril found the strain of making conversation to this blasé young woman very fatiguing, but it suddenly occurred to her that the subject of Nelson Druce might make her hostess talk—so she remarked:

  ‘I think I met your flaneé at Clare de la Lune’s garden party.’

  ‘What, Nelson!—oh, yes, that’s so—he was talking-about you the other day, said he’d promised to make you acquainted with some of the English stars, but he’s that absent-minded you’d be surprised. I guess he’s so wrapped up in his invention he doesn’t even realise that I’m around half the time.’

  ‘I didn’t know that he was an inventor,’ said Avril, with sudden interest

  ‘Sort of—he’s got some new kind of lens he’s just crazy about. He says it’ll revolutionise the motion picture business—but I guess that’s just his talk.’

  ‘It sounds most awfully interesting.’

  ‘Well—I suppose it is in a way.’ Vitelma sounded doubtful. ‘I don’t get half he tells me about it, but I figure it’s some gadget that’ll throw the folks who’re featured into strong relief—so that they’ll stand right out of the picture when it’s shown. A whole heap of people have been boilin’ their heads over that idea for years. The “Z” Projector, Nelson calls it. We’ll take a walk round to the Lab; if it ’ud amuse you any—an’ get him off the job.’

  ‘Do you think we ought to disturb him?’ asked Avril doubtfully. ‘I expect he hates being bothered while he is at work.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t let that worry you—he sure spends too much time tinkering in there as it is, an’ it’s his job to be around with me, else folk’ll start a rumour that we’re not engaged at all.’ Miss Loveday gave a little sharp, affected laugh, and it was quite obvious that she thought far too much of her own attractions to imagine anything of the kind. Then she led the way to a big glass-roofed building which had evidently been added to the house at a recent date.

  Nelson Druce, in clean white overalls, was busy washing slides in a bath of chemicals when the two girls came in. His brows contracted when he first looked up, then he smiled.

  ‘Hello, Honey! Why, how do, Miss Bamborough.’ He wiped his hands on a rag, and came towards them.

  ‘Guess it’s time you quit messin’,’ said Vitelma, with a frown, ‘Miss Bamborough’d like to see the exotics—be a good boy and take us round.’

  ‘Why, certainly—I owe Miss Bamborough an apology too for not fixing those introductions I promised—I’ll be with you right away.’ He began to shut up various cases and cabinets, locking each one carefully.

  ‘It doesn’t matter a bit about the introductions,’ said Avril, ‘and please don’t bother to leave your work on my account.’ She looked round the big laboratory with its neat rows of glass bottles, and white tiled walls. She would have liked to have asked him about his invention, but he showed no sign of mentioning it, and hurried them out of the building as soon as possible. He smiled pleasantly at Avril and said, ‘I can easily come back later—I’m sure it ’ud be a real pleasure to show you round.’

  He took them to the hot-houses and surprised Avril by the knowledge he displayed. She knew little of orchids, only the names of the particular kinds which she liked to wear, but she could see at once from the easy way in which Nelson Druce talked about them, that he was genuinely interested in his father’s collection.

  She liked him even better than she had done at their first brief meeting, and found herself watching for the fascinating little wrinkles to crinkle up at the corners of his eyes as he smiled.

  Vitelma played the part of chorus, and Avril wished that she would keep quiet or go away. She began to wonder what had induced Nelson to get engaged to this vapid girl. Of course, she was beautiful—too beautiful for words, and Avril knew that good looks counted tremendously with men even if there was nothing behind them, but it seemed to her a pity that Druce, who obviously had more intelligenc
e than the average young man, couldn’t have found a woman with a little brain as well as beauty.

  After the glass-houses, they walked round the garden again. Druce halted before the long border that Avril had admired so much.

  ‘This is the bit I like,’ he said. ‘The orchids are interesting caus’ they’re curious and rare—but they’re only freak stuff, and I’d scrap the orchids every time if I had to choose between them and this.’

  Vitelma’s beautiful mouth went sulky, and Avril smiled to herself, but thought it best to change the conversation. ‘I thought you were going to Europe?’ she said to Druce.

  ‘Sure—I’m off day after tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re a poor sort of beau—I’ll say.’ Vitelma’s voice was acid. ‘From the tone you use I guess Miss Bamborough’ll think you’re just waiting on the chance to quit Hollywood—an’ me.’

  ‘No, Honey—no. You’ve got me all wrong. It’s not you I wanta quit—but my work I want to get on with. I’ve just got to go to Europe for that.’ He drew Vitelma’s arms through his affectionately, and patted her hand, on which sparkled a large diamond solitaire ring.

  ‘Well—why can’t you take me along?—I’m overdue for a trip to Paris, an’ I wanta whole heap of new clothes.’

  ‘But I’m not going to Paris, Honey—you know that—I’ll be in London most of the time. London and Berlin—working seventeen hours a day in the laboratories—what chance ’ud I have to take you places. Hello, Hugo! How’s tricks?’

  They had reached the french windows of the study once more. Barton Druce waved them inside and led Avril to a chair.

  ‘Now, Miss Bamborough,’ he said, ‘Hugo and I have had our little talk—you’ll be acquainted with his difficulties from what he said just now, and I’ll bet a packet you’ve heard some of the queer rumours that are going around. The T.C.E. are trying to put over some funny stuff an’ leave us all without a livin’. Of course that don’t concern you none, but for the fact that it’s going to make it darned hard for Hugo to produce you as you deserve to be produced now all his technicians and experts have been taken off him, but I figure you don’t want to sit around doin’ nothing while he imports others from Europe and gets them trained. That’s going to take a longish time—an’ you’re an expensive young lady to have idle, so I’ve offered to buy your contract off Hugo and star you in Pacific Players right away. How’s that with you?’