Such Power is Dangerous

by Dennis Wheatley

  Only formal evidence was given, in which the events of the night before were described. Ronnie, the house detective, the hotel manager, and Captain Rudd, all were called. Mr. Smithson entered a plea of Not Guilty on her behalf, reserving the defence. The magistrate committed her for trial.

  Avril expected to be led back to her cell at once, and she was surprised when Smithson applied for bail. She had not known that bail was granted even on a charge of murder, in the United States.

  There seemed no difficulty about the matter, either. The magistrate asked the names of the sureties, and Avril, to her amazement, heard Hinckman’s name mentioned. She could only assume that Ronnie had used his influence with the great man, having been unable to secure Schultzer. She had noticed that the German was nowhere to be seen.

  After a short consultation between Smithson, Ronnie, and the magistrate, bail was settled at ten thousand dollars, and Avril, to her joy, found that she was free to leave the Court.

  Ronnie led her out into the vestibule, Smithson joined them a few moments later. He smiled at her.

  ‘This is a rotten business for you, Miss Bamborough. I expect they put you through it last night?’

  She sighed. ‘They did. It was simply ghastly—you can’t imagine how glad I am to be out of their clutches, even it it’s only for the time being.’

  ‘You won’t have to appear again for a long while yet,’ he assured her. ‘We shall get bail renewed from time to time, while we gradually build up the case for the defence.’

  ‘I suppose nothing has been heard of the man who did it?’ she enquired.

  The lawyer seemed surprised. He looked round carefully, and said in a low voice, ‘Miss Bamborough, I know that’s the story that you put up, and, of course, if you wish to stick to it, well, it’s my business to accept your instructions. But before you decide anything definite I’d like you to bear in mind that this man Donelli was a notorious character and we should have an absolutely clear case if you plead self-defence. There’s plenty of evidence that you were attacked, and there’s not a doubt that we’d get clear away with it.’

  ‘But I didn’t shoot him,’ Avril protested.

  ‘Well, don’t let’s talk about it now, this is hardly the place, and I imagine you’re pretty done up. I think you’d better rest for today, then we can go into the whole thing thoroughly tomorrow morning. You will have had time to think things over then, but bear in mind what I’ve said. If you’ll excuse me now—I’ve got another case.’

  ‘Oh, certainly.’ Avril was a little bewildered. ‘Tomorrow morning, then, at the the Hotel.’

  ‘Yes, round about ten o’clock.’ With a quick smile he hurried away.

  ‘Well, that’s that,’ said Ronnie cheerfully.

  ‘My dear.’ Avril smiled a little wanly. ‘It’s sweet of you to have got hold of Mr. Smithson, and quite marvellous of you to have arranged about my being let out on bail—but I still have a charge of murder hanging over me.’

  As they walked down the steps of the Court-house they were surrounded by a throng of reporters and cameramen. Ronnie laughed as he thrust a way through them and said quickly in her ear: ‘I shouldn’t worry too much about that—this is America, not England—things are different here, everything will be quite all right, it’s marvellous what chaps like Hinckman can do, who’ve got a pull.’

  ‘Hinckman?’ she said, and at that moment she caught sight of the Trans-Continental Electric magnate seated in the back of his big car a few yards away.

  ‘Yes, didn’t you hear? It was he who went bail for you.’ Ronnie flung open the door of Hinckman’s car.

  The big man leaned forward with a smile as Avril climbed in. She was thoroughly bewildered.

  ‘Mornin’, Miss Bamborough.’ He moved so that she could sit down beside him. ‘I guess it’s a pretty tough experience you’ve been through, but that rotten little wop who was on my staff sure asked for it—and he got it.’

  ‘It was very kind of you, Mr. Hinckman, to have gone bail for me,’ she said slowly, as Ronnie settled himself in one of the smaller seats.

  He laughed. ‘Why, don’t say another thing, Miss Bamborough, I’m real glad to have bin of assistance. I sure couldn’t go leavin’ one of my Stars in the lock-up.’

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, Mr. Hinckman. I think you know I’m with Ubiquitous. And, Ronnie—what happened to Mr.Schultzer?’

  ‘Hugo,’ Hinckman grinned. ‘Now see here, Miss Bamborough, Ring wants you to play Valerie Petrovna in “The Forbidden Territory”, an’ I certainly got to humour him, I feel that way myself, too, have done ever since I saw you, else you’d be making a trip back to Europe, like I said—even if you hadn’t got the rats and shot poor Angelo.’

  ‘I’m very, very grateful, Mr. Hinckman, for what you’ve done, but my contract is with Mr. Schultzer to play under Eberhard Lusatch.’

  ‘Contract?’ he laughed. ‘You’re crazy. You haven’t got a contract unless you like to fight me in the courts. Hugo sold Ubiquitous to me this morning for a packet of bird-seed. I guess he was a wise man all the same. He knew Hollywood wouldn’t be healthy for him if he hadn’t.’

  11

  The Hand that held the Gun

  Directly they arrived at the Hotel, Avril had to face another battery of cameras and a small army of reporters, all fighting to secure copy. She refused to be interviewed, and Ronnie saved her from their importunity by saying that he would give them the story instead. Her belongings had been moved to another room, and she went straight to bed. This time she slept soundly and did not wake until four o’clock in the afternoon.

  Having been quite unable to eat breakfast provided at Police Headquarters that morning, and having slept through lunch, she awoke ravenously hungry, so she ordered a large plate of her favourite sandwiches to be sent up to her room, with her tea.

  As her sharp white teeth bit into the appetising little squares of bread and smoked tongue, she began to think over her wretched situation. However cheerful the casual Ronnie and the all-powerful Hinckman might be, a charge of murder was no light matter. By the next morning she had to make up her mind what her line of defence was to be. She could accuse Nelson Druce, but it might be very difficult to prove that he had committed the murder. On the other hand, she could accept the line of least resistance which the lawyer offered—make a false confession about having shot Angelo herself and plead self-defence. If she accused Druce and they failed to get evidence against him, her own position might become a very serious one. Besides, she shrank from the thought of being instrumental in bringing about his death, but then it seemed that only by convicting him could she clear herself. The only alternative was to take the murder on her own shoulders, which meant that for the rest of her life she would be known as ‘The woman who shot that chap in Hollywood—don’t you remember?’ and Avril did not relish that at all. In addition it might not be quite so easy to get a clear aquittal on a plea of self-defence as Mr. Smithson seemed to think.

  The more Avril thought it over, the more convinced she became that she must see Nelson Druce at the earliest possible moment; she rang down for the car which she had hired during her stay in Hollywood, and began to dress.

  Her five hours’ sleep had restored her to something like her normal self, although there were still dark lines under her big eyes, but by the time she went downstairs she was looking very charming, and the violet shadows added, if anything, an extra interest to her lovely face.

  As the car bore her along the wide roads towards the Beverley Hills reservation, Avril was thinking, not of Nelson Druce, but of Hinckman. She had known, ever since she had overheard Ronnie’s conversation with Cinch on her first day in Hollywood, that strange things were taking place behind the scenes. During the last week she had seen quite enough to realise that all was not well with Ubiquitous. Then three afternoons before, when Schultzer had taken her to Barton Druce, she had suddenly realised the full import of Ronnie’s casual statements about this Combine. Barton Druce ha
d been killed before her new contract with him had been signed, and now Schultzer had gone down, powerless against their onslaught.

  She realised that had it not been for Hinckman, she would most probably still be in prison. It is not easy to find ten thousand dollars’ bail. Of course, she knew that he was serving his own interests; he evidently felt that nobody else would fill this part in ‘The Forbidden Territory’ as well as herself—and it seemed that Ring, his principal director, wanted her for it too. Avril wondered where she stood legally with regard to her contract, she must cable to her agent in London and find out.

  If Trans-Continental Electric had taken over Ubiquitous doubtless they had taken over the Ubiquitous contracts as well. In any case she did not doubt that her agent would advise her to accept a T.C.E. contract. If she had never met Hinckman, she would have been only too pleased to do so a few months ago—but knowing what she did, she was determined not to do so if she could legally withdraw. She wished desperately that she were free to take the train back to New York, then Hey ho! for England and dear old Uncle John.

  Yet even if she was not bound legally to Hinckman by her contract, there was this terrible affair of Angelo Donelli. It seemed a ghastly tangle. She could only hope that Nelson Druce would be able to see some way out for her and also for himself.

  To Avril’s intense annoyance when she arrived she was greeted by the vacuous Vitelma.

  ‘Now if this isn’t just fine, Miss Bamborough. To have you calling on us like an old friend. I’ll say it’s a terrible time you’ve been through.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Avril. ‘It has been quite terrible, but I’m feeling a little better now, and I particularly wanted to see Mr. Druce.’

  ‘What, Nelson? I guess he’s around somewhere. I’ll go get him.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’ Avril sank into a chair.

  Tall, fair Vitelma left the room, and a few moments later returned with Nelson. He seemed calm and collected, his hand was dry and firm as he took Avril’s, she looked down quickly at it—yes, that was the hand that had held the gun.

  ‘Sorry to hear about the bad time you’ve had, Miss Bamborough,’ he said. ‘I understand Hinckman’s bailed you. I thought he would, or, rather, Schultzer.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Avril sharply.

  ‘Well, you’re one of his people now he’s got Ubiquitous. I figure I should have done the same, if we’d bought them up.’

  ‘Why didn’t you take them over? I understood that Schultzer had arranged something with your father the day we came up here, at least about my contract in any case.’

  ‘That’s so, and as a matter of fact I offered to sign it yesterday—only unfortunately Hugo had changed his mind. Hinckman had been getting at his co-directors, and he no longer had a free hand, so the deal fell through.’

  Avril was a little mollified. She had felt that Nelson at least might have carried out his father’s wishes regarding her contract before Hinckman took over Ubiquitous. She was glad to find that he had not intentionally let her down. That was a small matter, however, compared to the business she had actually come to see him upon, but she could not mention it with Vitelma present.

  The fair girl lay back on a low arm-chair, her slender legs crossed, showing a long expanse of silk stocking; she showed no intention of leaving them together. On the contrary, she said at once:

  ‘I’m just dying to hear about your thrilling experience, Miss Bamborough. Was there three men in your room, or four? People do say such things, you just can’t tell what to believe. I’d be tickled to death to hear the real story.’

  ‘I’d rather not discuss it at present, if you don’t mind,’ said Avril quietly. ‘It’s so very recent, and it was all most terribly unpleasant.’

  ‘Oh, well, if that’s the way you feel.’ Vitelma’s mouth went sulky. ‘But I guess you’ll get all the publicity you want, anyhow. It’s not every star’s luck to have a shootin’ in her room.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not the sort of publicity that I care about,’ Avril replied, a little sharply, ‘and to be quite truthful I came here because I was particularly anxious to discuss a private matter with Mr. Druce. Would you think me terribly rude if I asked for a few moments with him alone?’

  Vitelma became openly hostile. ‘I’d be glad if you’d remember, Miss Bamborough, that Nelson Druce is my fiancé, an’ I just can’t figure that he has any sort of business that’s too private for me to hear.’

  ‘Mr. Druce is the best judge of that,’ said Avril coldly.

  Nelson Druce gave her a quick look. He said nothing for a moment, then he turned to Vitelma.

  ‘Now, Honey, there’s no call to be rude to Miss Bamborough. Maybe she wants my advice as to how she’s situated with Hinckman—owing to the Ubiquitous take-over.’

  ‘Well, an’ if she does—what then? Ain’t I a movie star myself? I’ll say there isn’t much about motion picture contracts that this child doesn’t know.’

  ‘I’m sorry to seem rude,’ said Avril, ‘and I’m sure that your advice upon my contract would be most valuable but it is quite another matter that I wish to discuss with Mr. Druce.’

  ‘Is that so? Well, I’d be mighty interested to hear what this so private business is, that you want to talk over with my fiancé. It wouldn’t be garden flowers now by any chance, would it?’

  Both Nelson and Avril knew exactly to what she referred, but Nelson tried to placate her.

  ‘See here, Vitelma,’ he said persuasively, ‘ ’tisn’t everybody who cares about discussing business with a third person present. Be a sport now an’ leave us to it.’

  ‘Sez you,’ Vitelma burst out. Whenever she was excited her accent became more harsh, and her Americanisms more blatant, yet she looked extraordinarily attractive as she bent forward accusingly towards her fiancé. ‘Don’t try that stuff on me, little sweetie bunch. Don’t I know you’re soft on her. Didn’t you go all gooey when that wop she killed bunched her in her the box the other night. She figures she’s a swell dame with her English hoo-haw—an’ you’re just the fool to fall for it. Well, there’s nothin’ doin’. See!’

  ‘Oh, Honey—I guess you got me all wrong.’ Nelson Druce shook his head impatiently. ‘An’ you certainly do a great injustice to Miss Bamborough. People don’t go bats about each other who’ve only met a couple of times. For the Lord’s sake have a heart.’

  Avril felt exceedingly uncomfortable and thought it time to protest. ‘Miss Loveday,’ she said seriously, ‘I assure you that your suspicions are quite unfounded. I have been through a very great deal during the last twenty-four hours, and the very last thing which I want is another scene. I would not ask to see Mr. Druce alone, if I were not quite certain that it would be his own wish as well as mine, and please believe me, it is very important that I should.’

  Nelson Druce looked sharply at her, then with a smile he took Vitelma’s hand gently pulled her to her feet. ‘Come now, Honey—you certainly couldn’t pay me a finer compliment than suggesting that Miss Bamborough’s interested in me personally—but you’re all wrong. It’s just a little business talk she wants, that’s all.’

  Vitelma reluctantly allowed herself to be led out of the room. As Nelson Druce closed the door behind her, he turned suddenly and leant upon it. His expression had completely changed. He had become tense, expectant, but he was still quite calm.

  ‘Now—let’s have it.’ His brown eyes looked steadily into Avril’s.

  Avril did not beat about the bush. ‘It was you who shot Angelo Donelli,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Is that so!’ His glance never wavered. ‘And what makes you suppose that?’

  ‘I recognised your hand when we were struggling for the pistol, I saw it distinctly in the light on the balcony.’

  ‘Well, that’s not much to go on. I’ve never known a case of a man being identified by his hand alone before.’

  ‘No.’ Avril’s voice was even. ‘Most men’s hands are not worth looking at twice; unfortunately for you as it happens
—yours are—but I expect you know that.’

  He glanced swiftly down at his right hand, then he gave a sudden laugh. ‘They are nice—that’s true—but I don’t figure having nice hands would be enough to bring a man to the chair.’

  ‘No, perhaps not,’ Avril admitted. ‘But there are other things.’

  ‘Is that so? And what are they?’

  ‘You believe that Donneli shot your father.’

  ‘I know he did.’ Nelson’s eyes went hard.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Does that matter?’

  Avril shook her head slowly. ‘No, but aren’t you rather giving yourself away?—if you knew that for certain, surely it makes the motive even stronger. People will say that you killed Donelli in revenge.’

  ‘What folks say is one thing, what they can prove is another.’

  ‘There is the pistol.’

  ‘Well, what about it?’

  ‘There may be finger-prints.’

  ‘There won’t be.’

  Avril wondered how he could be so certain about that. ‘They may trace the ownership of the pistol,’ she suggested.

  ‘They may,’ he admitted, but he did not seem at all concerned.

  ‘And then your movements last night. What about those?’

  ‘I can account for every moment of my time.’

  ‘Mr. Druce,’ she said slowly, ‘if what you say is true it does seem that the police would have the greatest difficulty in bringing this home to you, but I notice one thing, you do not actually deny having done it.’

  ‘Would it set your mind at rest if I did?’

  ‘No, it would not. Since I have see your hand again I am quite certain that it was you with whom I struggled for that pistol.’

  ‘If that’s so, why didn’t you tell the police?.’

  ‘How do you know that I haven’t?’

  ‘They would have pulled me out of bed to get a statement, last night, if you had.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so, anyway you’re quite right. I have said nothing about my suspicions for the moment.’