Such Power is Dangerous

by Dennis Wheatley

  Next second she regretted her words. She had only spoken in jest, but Nelson Druce’s eyes suddenly filled with a strange light. Almost before she could realise what he was about to do, he had caught her in his arms. He pressed his lips firmly on hers, she struggled, her hands upon his chest pushing him away. His grip tightened, all at once she relaxed, and swaying backwards, flung one arm about his neck. They clung together for a full minute, and in that minute Avril knew that she had been wanting Nelson Druce to kiss her like that for the past two months.

  17

  The Defeat of Nelson Druce

  Next morning Avril slept late. Unless she gave special instructions she was never called, and her maid waited until she rang to bring her tray and draw her blinds.

  When she woke, she lay for a long time thinking before she rang her bell. All the events of the night before came back to her with vivid clearness.… Her fright, the long business discussion and then that wild moment of abandoned passion when Nelson Druce had seemed to draw her very soul to her lips.

  Afterwards he had thrust her from him almost roughly. Without a word he had turned away, his face dark and set, leaving her breathless against the wall of the passage. He had marched down the corridor, through her bedroom to the bathroom, and so by the fire escape reached the street.

  She loved him—of course she loved him. Avril had not a single doubt about that, and he loved her, she was certain. There had been no half-measures about that kiss—but what could come of it? Surely he would have stayed—have said something, if he were free. Avril decided that Vitelma must still be very much in evidence, even if she were in America.

  This personal element complicated things terribly. If it were not for business she would have written him a note saying that she would prefer not to see him again unless he were free; as it was she could hardly do that. They had a thousand things to settle that were of vital importance if they were to take measures together against the Combine.

  In a few hours now he would be back again, calling for her in order that they might go down to Hatfield; she must put through a call at once to Mr. White and Mr. Mole, to arrange the meeting. She had no doubt whatever that Nelson Druce would come. She wondered what his attitude would be. Would he behave like the declared lover, or seek bashfully to explain away his conduct as midnight madness?

  She did her telephoning and got up. Another pile of correspondence was waiting for her, she did her best to cope with it and then lunched in her flat, mindful of her promise not to stir out alone. At half-past two Nelson Druce arrived.

  He was neither bashful nor assertive. He gave her one queer look as he was shown into the sitting-room, and then plunged into business right away. It was obvious that he had no intention of referring to his outburst of the night before, and Avril felt that he was wise, with the meeting in front of them it would have been a most ill-chosen time.

  They left immediately in her two-seater, and found Mr. White and Mr. Mole both ready to receive them in the board room at Hatfield.

  Mr. Mole said little, but it was evident that he had a shrewd grasp of the situation. Mr. White said a lot; he showed plainly from the very beginning that he had no intention of allowing the company with which he was connected to be run by any American—Combine or anti-Combine.

  Avril had never seen Nelson Druce at a business meeting before and she was interested to watch the manner in which he handled the situation.

  To her, he was polite, brief, almost chilling. He knew that he had her with him already, and in some subtle way he managed to convey to the others that although she was responsible for his introduction, he assumed as a matter of course that she would defer entirely to their decision, whatever that might be. With Mr. Mole he played the young man anxious for help and guidance in a difficult situation. Mr. White he humoured, listening patiently to his extraneous utterances upon the greatness of the British Empire, and encouraging him to further attempts at oratory, but he always managed to bring the discussion back to the points at issue by a few quiet words here and there.

  When the other two had exhausted their ammunition he spoke for about ten minutes, quoting their own arguments and pointing out what a terrible menace the Combine would be to the happiness and prosperity of everybody engaged in the Film Industry.

  It was a brilliant piece of diplomacy, and Avril gave him full marks. He had not persuaded the others against their will, or asked them to agree to anything which could normally prove injurious to their company, but he had worked them up, from a state of lukewarm doubt, to a pitch of genuine enthusiasm in the rightness of his cause.

  Technical details were gone into at some length, and Nelson Druce left the meeting, completely assured of the wholehearted support of the heads of the Hatfield Studios.

  On the way back to London he talked of the afternoon’s meeting, going over the various points again in what Avril felt to be unnecessary detail. She had realised them herself quite clearly at the time, but she guessed that he was only talking in order to avoid an embarrassing silence.

  They did not change but dined together in a small restaurant off Jermyn Street. At dinner Nelson tried to keep the conversation light and amusing, but his efforts were a failure. A restraint had fallen upon them and they found themselves each seeking to avoid the other’s glance. Avril was heartily glad when the meal was over.

  She had parked her car in St. James’s Square, and directly they had finished dinner, they set off for Frensham.

  London was hot and stuffy, but once they were free of the traffic they reaped the benefit of the lovely July evening. Nelson had ceased endeavouring to force conversation and they spun along through the scented twilight in silence.

  Darkness had fallen by the time they reached Guildford, and they turned off the highway into the narrow winding lanes. There was little traffic, but Avril drove slowly. In any case she would not have hurried, since she loved the smell of the pines and gorse that came to them on the still night air, but she had a special reason for delay on this occasion. She felt instinctively that once they reached their journey’s end, Nelson Druce would speak about the night before, and she was just a little bit afraid of herself—she wanted to put the moment off as long as possible.

  The turnings between the dark hedgerows were intricate and by a quiet word from time to time Nelson kept her upon the right road. They passed two long stretches of open moorland and a small pine wood at the end of which he told her to pull up.

  She obeyed, looking to right and left for signs of buildings, but she could see none. He answered her unspoken thought.

  ‘The Studio’s just around the corner, down the lane, a couple of hundred yards or so; this sandy track’s mighty poor going for the car, I guess we’ll leave it on the grass here, there’s nobody about.’

  Avril edged the car onto a triangular slope at the entrance of the lane and they both got out. On the one side lay the pine wood, on the other the open heath. Low above the dark patches of the gorse the moon was rising. They walked a little way in silence, then he stopped abruptly by a fallen tree-trunk.

  ‘I guess this’ll do.’

  ‘What?’ said Avril, but she knew quite well what was coming.

  ‘I want to talk to you,’ he said, ‘’bout last night. Let’s sit down.’

  She made herself as comfortable as possible upon the fallen tree, while he stood by her, obviously restless and ill-at-ease. ‘I expect you’ve been thinking that I’m every sort of cad—taking advantage of you the way I did?’

  ‘No,’ she said tonelessly. ‘I don’t think you’re a cad.’

  ‘Well, I am. Let’s face it—there’s Vitelma, back home.’

  ‘Are you still engaged to her?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘I thought as much.’

  ‘Did you? I’ll say you didn’t behave like it—last night.’ He paused suddenly, then went on: ‘Say, I never ought to have said a thing like that. It was real mean of me, try and forget it, will you?’

  ‘Why shoul
d I? It’s quite true, and I’m not a child, Nelson. You kissed me and I kissed you back, surely the time is past when a woman has to pretend that she had no feelings about that sort of thing, our instincts are the same as a man’s.’

  He looked at her quickly. ‘Sure—we all know that, but it isn’t everyone will admit it. You’re a woman in a million, Avril.’

  ‘No, I’m not. I’m just human, that’s all.’

  Nelson prodded the pine-needles with the toe of his shoe, then he looked up again. ‘I’d been wanting to do what I did last night for two solid months. You mayn’t believe it, but even my business has been done two-thirds mechanically.’

  He spoke with such intensity that even Avril was taken a little aback. ‘You—you care about me as much as that?’ she said slowly.

  ‘Yes.’ He turned on her almost fiercely. ‘I’m clean crazy about you. I’ve been in love before, but it’s never got me this way—and it’s not because you’re lovely, or smart, or amusing, or sympathetic; I don’t know what it is, but I just love you and I guess I’ll go on loving you—so there it is.’

  ‘I know,’ she said simply.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been thinking things over these last few days. Uncle John said something two nights before he died, then since last night I’ve been thinking more than ever. I know now that I feel that way about you, too.’

  He did not attempt to kiss her but sat down beside her and took her hand very gently in his own. ‘D’you mean that? But of course you do—you wouldn’t say it, if it weren’t true.’

  ‘No, I wouldn’t, Nelson, but what are we to do?’

  ‘You mean about Vitelma?’

  ‘Yes, you’ve got to think of her.’

  ‘She doesn’t care two hoots for me really.’

  ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Look at the way she’s gone on since we became engaged. Has she tried to help me with my work? Has she had any thought for me when I’ve come home played out evenings? … Not on your life. All she’s wanted is for me to take her places.’

  ‘You must have loved her or you would never have become engaged.’

  ‘That’s true, I was carried off my feet. I guess I’m to blame.’

  ‘It’s a thing that’s liable to happen to anybody—perhaps this is the same.’

  ‘It isn’t, and you know it. With her I figure I was just taken by her looks, and proud as any peacock to have her around. I’d be proud of you, not just because you are beautiful and famous—but in a thousand ways that other folks wouldn’t see.’

  ‘I’m miserable all the same, Nelson, about that girl. I’ve always rather prided myself on the fact that I’d never taken another woman’s man.’

  ‘Please—don’t say that, it’s not true, either, you haven’t done a single thing to get me going, I’ve just gone stark crazy about you on my own. Last night didn’t count, if you’d smacked my face, as I’d deserved, it wouldn’t have made any difference, I’d be loving you just as much today—so get that nonsense about having taken me off Vitelma out of your sweet head right away.’

  ‘What do you intend to do?’

  ‘Write Vitelma by the next air mail, that’s the only thing to do as I see it—ask her to release me.’

  ‘Do you think she will?’

  His mouth turned down into a humorous little smile, Avril just caught it in the half-light. ‘Can’t say,’ he answered slowly. ‘Vitelma’s fed-up with being a Star. I reckon she figured to be Mrs. Pacific Players—mind you, I’d just hate you to think I’m slinging mud at her. I’m not, but I’ve learnt a lot about her in the last few months. It’s when you’re in trouble that you find out who’s worth their salt and who’s not.’

  ‘I hardly know her, and anyway, I’ve no right to judge, but if what you say is true, I should think it’s very unlikely that she’ll give you your freedom.’

  ‘I’m afraid that way myself.’ His grip on her hand suddenly tightened. ‘I’m a rotten skunk, Avril, to have landed you in for this. I ought never to have said a word until I’d got clear, much-less have done what I did last night.’

  She laughed a little sadly, as she returned the pressure of his hand. ‘You’re nothing of the kind, my dear—and you haven’t landed me in for anything, I’ve landed myself.’

  ‘My, how good I’d feel to hear you say that,’ he exclaimed suddenly, ‘if it weren’t for her.’

  Avril shook her head. ‘But there is a her, and you may be doing her a great injustice. It isn’t every woman who can show her affections, and perhaps you’ve been so worried with business these last few months that you’ve got on her nerves. If as you say, too, you have been thinking about me all the time, that’s hardly giving her a fair chance, is it? Perhaps she loves you far more than you think.’

  Nelson Druce groaned. ‘Oh, hell! I hate to hurt her, anyhow, but it wouldn’t be fair to her, let alone anybody else, to go on as things are.’

  ‘Then you mean to break with her in any case?’

  ‘That’s about the size of it. I can’t go on as I am, can I?’

  ‘Listen, Nelson.’ Avril spoke very softly. ‘I’ve told you I love you, my dear, and I do, but I can’t take you that way, I’d never be happy about it if I did. I don’t blame you a little bit for what you’ve done—everybody’s liable to make a mistake of that kind, but you did it yourself, nobody forced you. If you feel that you can’t go on with Vitelma, that’s your affair, it’s between you and your conscience, but I will not marry you, not unless she releases you of her own free will, or does something to justify your breaking your engagement.’

  He smiled at her in the darkness. ‘You say you love me, and then you say that—didn’t I say you were a woman in a million? It’s hard on me, but it’s just as hard on you and it’s principle all right—perhaps that’s the reason why I love you so—’cause you’ve got that as well as bein’ lovely and sweet.’

  For a little time they sat silent, the tension between them gradually relaxing, then Avril asked him for a cigarette. He handed her his case, and felt in his pockets for his matches, but he could not find them.

  ‘There’s a lighter in the car,’ she suggested, ‘let’s walk back to it, then we really must go to the Studio.’

  They stood up, and as they turned, Avril caught his arm with a little cry. ‘Look!’ she exclaimed, as she pointed through the trees. ‘Look—there’s a forest fire.’

  ‘It’s not,’ he gasped. ‘That’s the Studio—come on—run.’

  Side by side they raced along the sandy track, before they had covered a hundred yards they came full upon it. The Studio only consisted of one big corrugated-iron and wood structure surrounded by a number of small sheds.

  The flames were leaping from the main building, and the group of hutments showed clearly in the bright light.

  Avril and Nelson halted breathlessly some yards from the burning building; for the moment they could get no nearer, the heat and smoke drove them back. The crackling of the flames almost drowned her voice as she cried:

  ‘The watchman—don’t you keep a watchman?’

  ‘Two,’ he shouted back. ‘I guess this is more of Hinckman’s work and they’ve been knocked on the head. Quick—round this way.’

  He led her round to the side of the building away from the columns of flame and sparks that were spurting from its end. They came to a door, he tried it but it was locked. He stepped back, gave a short run, and brought his foot against the lock with all his force. It gave with a snap, the door swung open, dense acrid smoke billowed out towards them.

  ‘Nelson, you can’t go in—I won’t let you,’ she cried, clutching his arm.

  ‘Got to,’ he said briefly. ‘They may still be in there—go round to the far end—there’s a window there, that’s the room they use.’ As he spoke he was tying a handkerchief over his mouth and nose. With his head well down he dashed through the door.

  Inside there was a lurid glare, yet he could not see the flames, the fire had b
een started at one end, and the whole place was full of smoke. It cleared a little as he fought his way forward, the heat was stifling, he tripped over some lighting wires and fell into a piece of canvas scenery, but he picked himself up and stumbled on. At last he found the door of the small office, he pushed it open and gasped with relief as he breathed in the fresh cool air. He closed it quickly behind him. Only the moonlight lit the room. Through the window he could see Avril standing outside. Inside, a small table was spread for supper—cold meat, cheese, a quart bottle of beer, the latter half empty. The two watchmen were sitting at it apparently fast asleep, one with his head tilted forward resting on his arms, the other leaning back, chin in air snoring loudly.

  Nelson ran to the window and flung it open. He seized the nearest man and dragged him to it, thrusting his head out into the open air. The fellow showed no signs of waking. Avril seized his shoulders, they pulled and pushed until he tumbled out upon the ground. Then Nelson took hold of the other round the body and threw him on the window-sill, his slack limbs swung grotesquely. Avril gripped a dangling arm and tugged with all her strength. His coat had caught upon a fastening, suddenly it ripped and he tumbled out in a heap upon the body of the other man.

  ‘Come on,’ cried Avril, holding the window wide. ‘Quickly, quickly,’ but Nelson was adjusting his handkerchief about his face.

  ‘The cameras,’ Avril heard him give a muffled shout. ‘I must save the cameras,’ then she saw him fling open the office door and plunge back into the inferno.

  For the moment she did not know whether to remain where she was, or to run round to the door—she decided on the latter.

  ‘Oh, if he’s killed—if he’s killed,’ she kept murmuring to herself, as she clenched and unclenched her hands in terrible anxiety.

  Next moment he was beside her, thrusting a great heavy cinematograph camera into her arms; she almost fell under its weight, but recovered her balance and staggered away with it, to a place out of reach of the flames.