'C.B., a young woman has called and is asking to see you. Her name is Mrs. Morden. What about it?'
With a sigh C.B. lowered the paper. He knew that it must be Teddy Morden's widow, and felt that an interview with her would certainly be most painful for them both, the odds being that she had come to upbraid him for sending her husband to his death; but he quickly resigned himself to it.
'All right, John. I'll see her.'
John gave him a wicked grin. 'She's quite an eyeful - a ravishing blonde. Poor old Mumsie. What's it worth to you for me not to lot on to her that you've got yourself a lovely girl-friend?'
C.B. grinned back. 'That's quite enough of that, young feller. Bring her along.'
'O.K. Chief. But my silence will cost you a case of Moet N.V.'
Two minutes later Mrs. Morden stepped across the threshold of C.B.'s spacious book-lined sanctum. From behind her shoulder the irrepressible John winked at C.B. and made the V sign; then he quietly closed the door upon them.
Mary Morden was twenty-three and John had not exaggerated her good looks. A small black hat enhanced the gold of her ripe-corn coloured hair, which she evidently kept long, as it was done up in two thick plaits at the back of her head, leaving fully exposed two unusually pretty little ears. Her eyebrows were rather thick, and she left them like that because they were so fair that, had they been plucked, they would hardly have shown; but below them were two almond-shaped eyes of that deep blue colour which is most usually seen in combination with the dark beauty of an Irish colleen. Her nose was straight, her mouth firm and her pointed chin slightly aggressive. She was fairly tall with a good bust that nicely balanced her hips, and she carried herself well. C.B., who had an eye for such things, decided that her black and white check suit, although it fitted her well, was ready-made; but that her nylons were of fine quality. As she took the chair he placed for her, she crossed a pair of legs of which she had good reason to be proud, and he saw that they ended in small, neat feet.
He had seen her before on two occasions. The last had been at Morden's funeral, and there he had only bowed to her as a veiled, pathetic figure. The first had been when he had had to go down to her flat at Wimbledon to break the news of her husband's death to her. It had been a Monday morning; she had been busy doing the weekly washing, and so had come out from the kitchen with her hair tied up in a scarf, wearing a faded blouse, tight blue jeans and a pair of down-at-heel slippers. She had little make-up on now, but she had had none at all on then, and a wisp of hair that had got loose from under the scarf had given her a slightly sluttish appearance. He had been struck by her fine eyes but failed to realize that she was a beauty before the news he brought confirmed her fears for Teddy, who had not been home since the afternoon of Saturday; upon which she had buried her face in her hands and burst into a passion of tears. To make the horrible job he had to do a little easier, he had first sought out Morden's brother and sister-in-law, and taken them with him. Having told Mrs. Morden of her husband's death as gently as he could, and provided her with ample money to meet any immediate necessities, he had left her with her relations by marriage.
Now, as soon as she was seated, she said briskly: 'I do hope you will forgive me for spoiling your Sunday afternoon like this, Colonel Verney, but I thought it a likely time to catch you and, that in view of what I want to talk to you about, it was better that I should come to your home than to your office.'
'You're not spoiling it,' he assured her with a smile. 'I was only glancing through the papers. I'm glad to see you and, if I may say so, looking so, er . . .'
'You mean recovered from the shock,' she helped him out, 'Well, it's a fortnight now and one can't go on weeping ones eyes out for ever. It was a choice of either letting myself sink into a sort of morbid coma that might have gone on for months, or getting down to something that would occupy my time and mind, and I decided on the latter.'
'Well done you. I'm delighted to hear it.' Offering her his cigarette case, he added: 'Tell me about this job you've got?'
'What lovely long ones.' She took a cigarette and, after he had lit it for her, said: 'I haven't got it yet. That's why I'm here.'
He raised his prawn-like eyebrows a fraction. 'I see. Well, if it's a reference you require I'd be delighted; but if you want me to find you a job that's rather a different matter. Still, if you'll tell me what qualifications you have, I'll do my best to . . .'
'Thanks, but this isn't a case for either. I followed your wishes in telling my friends and neighbours that Teddy died of a heart-attack, but we know that he was murdered. You couldn't have concealed the truth from me, even if you had wanted to, because I had to be given his death certificate. I don't think that by nature I am vindictive, but Teddy meant . . . meant a lot to me. I want to help bring his murderer to justice.'
'That's very understandable,' said C.B. gravely, 'but I'm afraid you would only be wasting your time. The police are doing everything possible, and even with all their resources they haven't yet got a clue.'
'Then that is all the more reason why you should let me try my hand. If in a fortnight they have failed to get anywhere, it means that the trail has gone cold by now, so they are not very likely to. Fresh crimes are calling for the attention of the police every day; so they will give less and less time to Teddy's case, and after another few weeks shelve it.'
'No case is ever closed until the criminal is caught.'
Mary Morden made an impatient gesture. 'No, but after a while the file joins the hundreds of others on unsolved crimes and no one does any more about it.' Her strong jaw hardened suddenly and she added: 'But take me on and that won't happen. I'll stick to it for years if . . .'
'Take you on!' C.B. repeated, then he quickly shook his head. 'No, Mrs. Morden, I'm sorry, but that is quite out of the question. Even if I wanted to I couldn't. There are very definite rules governing procedure in my department.'
'Oh, I didn't mean officially. That's why I thought it best to come here to see you. Then no one could suspect that I was working for you. And I don't want any pay. I'm not rolling in money, but I can manage on what I've got.'
For a moment C.B. looked straight at the beautiful earnest face opposite him; then he shook his head again. 'Honestly, it's not possible. For you even to make a start I'd have to disclose to you the mission Teddy was employed upon, and that would mean letting you into all sorts of official secrets. I could lose my job for that. Besides, you would be exposing yourself to grave danger and that's a responsibility I'm not prepared to take.'
She pulled a face, shrugged and made a move to stand up. 'Very well, Colonel Verney, I'm sorry to find you so un-cooperative and sorry to have wasted your time. I'll just have to set about the business on my own.'
'Hey! Wait a mo', lady.' Conky Bill gestured her back into the chair. He was trying desperately to think of some way in which he could dissuade her from entering on an investigation that, at best, would mean months of futile endeavour and, at worst, the chance that she would run up against real trouble which would end in her becoming a lovely corpse.
'Well!' she smiled suddenly. 'Are you thinking of changing your mind?'
'No, M'am,' he replied promptly, getting to his feet. 'And I'm not likely to in a matter like this. I'm just going to make you a cup of tea.'
'That's nice of you,' she conceded, and her smile broadened, showing two rows of strong, even teeth.
He rather prided himself as a brewer of a good cup of tea, and some minutes later he emerged from his kitchenette with a tray on which reposed a pot of Earl Grey, milk, lemon, sugar and a plate of shortbread biscuits. Setting it down he said, 'You must be "mother". Lemon for me and three lumps of sugar.'
As she poured out, he went on, 'So you're going to play the lone wolf, eh? Or rather the unshorn lamb going into the forest to put the fear of God into the great big hairy bears. I've had the best part of thirty years at the game, but most times I've gone in a tank with plenty of air cover. All the same, I still look on myself as a learner, a
nd I'd be awfully interested to hear how you propose to set about it.'
She passed him his cup. 'Elementary, my dear Watson! I shall find out all I can about everyone with whom Teddy had anything to do these past few months.'
'Did he tell you anything about the job he was on?'
'No, not a thing. He was terribly security-minded.'
'Then that won't get you anywhere; because you can have no line on the people he was after.'
'You can't be certain that it won't. And I have got one line that might lead to something. It wasn't at all in keeping with his character, but some time back he suddenly became deeply interested in Spiritualism.'
Had it not been for his long training at suppressing all signs of emotion while interrogating people, C.B. might well have dropped his tea-cup. As it was his long face remained impassive as he said, 'Really; and he made no secret about that?'
'He would have, but a mutual friend of ours happened to see him at a stance, and told me about it. When I tackled him he came clean and admitted that he had been to several. I tried to persuade him to drop it. After all, his work took him out at night often enough without his spending an evening or two a week attending séances. Besides, I am a Roman Catholic. Not a very good one, I'm afraid. In fact, we were married at a Registry Office and I haven't been inside a church for years. All the same, I still believe in its teaching, and that Spiritualism is wrong. Teddy knew that, of course; otherwise he would probably have suggested my going with him. As it was, he seemed absolutely fascinated by this new interest. He wouldn't listen to me and continued to go to the meetings in spite of all I could say.'
'But what leads you to think that his interest in Spiritualism had any bearing on his death?'
Mary Morden's fair eyelashes fluttered and for a moment veiled her deep blue eyes as she replied, a shade uncomfortably: 'Because there was something behind it - something very unpleasant.'
C.B. had to keep a tight hold on himself in order not to show the intense interest which gripped him as he asked in his low voice: 'What sort of thing?'
'I don't really know. Teddy used to talk in his sleep. He never gave away any office secrets, and mostly it was incoherent muttering. But during the last few weeks he began to have nightmares. He seemed to be struggling in a sort of medieval hell. He raved about the Devil taking the form of a small black imp, and of a Temple where animals were sacrificed. An Indian was mixed up in it, and someone whom he referred to as "the Master". When he woke from these nightmares, or I woke him, he was drenched in sweat. But he wouldn't tell me their cause. He used to shrug them off by saying that he was making a study of the occult and had been reading a lot about the bad side of it.'
'That may have been true. On the other hand, one can't rule out the possibility that he had got in with some bad hats at these séances and that they introduced him into a Black Magic circle.'
'That's what I think.'
'And you intend to follow this up?'
'Yes.'
For a moment C.B. was silent. All she had said fitted in so well with his own theory of what lay behind Morden's death that he was greatly tempted to tell her to go ahead. Yet few people knew better than he did the terrible danger to which she would be exposing herself if she did. Having decided that he must do his best to stop her, he said:
'Listen, lady. In my work I've been up against this sort of thing before;[2] yet I've never succeeded in bringing a big Black to justice. They are incredibly cunning and utterly unscrupulous. If I, with all the resources of my department, can't get the goods on them, how can you, a woman working on her own, hope to? Supposing you are right, you'll get no further than the fringe of it; then they'll catch you out, and the odds are that you'll end up as poor Teddy did. It isn't on! You've got to put this idea right out of your head.'
She gave a slight shrug. 'Of course there's a risk. I know that. But in my case I think you exaggerate. If these people did kill Teddy, it must have been because one of them found out that he was working for you. As you have turned me down that could not apply to me. Anyway, I'm a free agent, and, if I choose to do this, you can't stop me.'
'No, I can't. But I can give you some idea of the sort of situation you will be faced with from the very start.'
'I'd be interested to hear it.'
'Well, all Black Magic rituals are based on sex or, to use more appropriate words, unbridled lust, perversion and obscenity. If you ever succeed in getting inside a Satanic Temple, you will be expected to witness and applaud acts which would turn the stomach of a member of the vice-squad, let alone a decent young woman like yourself. But that would be only after your own initiation. And that's the hurdle you'd have to take before you could get anywhere. You don't need me to tell you what a lovely person you are, and they are not going to give you a ring-side seat for nowt. Your entry ticket would be having to give yourself to the man who introduced you into the circle.'
Mary Morden dropped her eyes again. 'I can only hope that he wouldn't be too repulsive.'
'What!' C.B. sat forward suddenly. ' D'you mean you would?'
'Yes.' She looked up and met his glance squarely. 'I'd better be frank with you, Colonel Verney. I grew up in the back streets of Dublin and became a cabaret girl. For reasons with which I won't bother you there came a time when I had to have more money than my pay. Cabaret girls get plenty of opportunities to earn money the so-called easy way, and those who do don't think of themselves as prostitutes. But, to be brutally honest, that's what I was for the best part of a year. And, believe me, even with girls such as I was, who don't have to go to bed with every man who asks them to, it's not easy money. There are times when men who seem to be decent sorts turn out to be absolute swine, and to earn a few pounds that way is like suddenly finding oneself in hell.
'Four years ago Teddy took me out of that. He knew the sort of life I had been leading, but all the same he married me. I'm not going to tell you that he was my one great love. The fact is, I've never had one; but I was terribly fond of him. He gave me security, a decent home, respectability, everything that any reasonable woman could want except a child, and I made him a good and faithful wife.
'But now that is all over. I've no family. I'm on my own again. With his pension and a little capital he inherited from an uncle I'll be free from want; but by killing Teddy some fiend robbed the world of an honest, decent, kindly man, and robbed me of everything that made life worth while. So I'll not stick at using my looks, and my body too, if need be, in an attempt to get even with his murderer.'
For a moment C.B. was silent again, then he said: 'If that's the case, Mrs. Morden, there's no more I can say; except to express my admiration for your determination and courage.'
'Thank you,' she said gravely. 'I'm glad my confession hasn't made you think too badly of me.'
'Far from it. None of us has much choice about the sort of life we have to lead when we are young; and, frankly, it is a small grain of comfort to me to know that at least you are prepared for the sort of thing it's certain you'll have to face.'
'That's that, then.' She picked up her bag. 'Well, I won't keep you any longer. Thank you for seeing me and giving me such a nice tea.'
Waving her back, he said: 'No, don't go yet. Although I can't give you any official help, maybe I can suggest a way to lessen these risks you are determined to run.'
Her mouth twitched in a faint smile. 'I'll bet that it is to try to make myself look old and unattractive.'
He laughed. 'No; there would be no chance of your succeeding in that. Even a make-up expert couldn't alter your face enough for people not to detect at close quarters that it was a painted mask. Then, how about your figure, and those legs? But I was thinking of the risk to your life, not to your, er - virtue. You won't be able to disguise the fact that you are an extremely attractive young woman, but you could radically alter your appearance and give yourself a different type of beauty.'
'What would be the point of that?'
C.B. put his index finger alongside
his big aggressive nose and spoke almost in a whisper. 'Before poor Teddy was done in you can be certain that the people who did the job first found out all they could about him. From the moment they began to suspect that he was spying on them they would have had him followed. That would have led them to his home. It is a thousand quid to a rotten apple that they know you and all about you. The moment you went among them - that is, as your natural self - they would recognize you and realize that you were on their track. Then your number would be up before you had even started. If you are to stand any chance at all you must assume a completely new identity.'
'I see. Yes, of course, you are right. Well, I'll turn myself into a brunette, change my hair-style and do everything else I can think of to alter my appearance.'
'Good! But that is not enough. You must also change your place of residence and live in new quarters under a different name. Would that be difficult for you? I mean, although you tell me you have no family of your own, there are your in-laws. Could you think of a plausible excuse for going away for a while without leaving them your address?'
Mary's mouth tightened, and her voice held a trace of bitterness. 'I won't have to think up an excuse. Teddy's people are the worst type of middle-class snobs. God knows, I've done nothing to antagonize them. It is just that they had pinned their hopes on Teddy marrying some little piece vaguely connected with the peerage, or at least a girl whose parents had money; and I didn't fit into either category. They had no time for me from the beginning and if I took a running jump into a pond tonight, it wouldn't cost any of them a wink of sleep. I have only to shut up the flat and give out that I'm going back to Ireland for the Mordens to count themselves well rid of me.'
'I would advise you to do that then. Move into furnished rooms or a small hotel in some district where you know no one. Take a new name and open an account in it at a local bank, then instruct your own to pay your funds into it as required and to forward your letters there enclosed in envelopes bearing the name you have taken. Shut yourself off as completely as you can from all past associations, and communicate with no one. That includes myself. If these people know that Teddy was working for me they may be watching this place; so don't come here again or to the office, or telephone either. That is unless one of two things happens. One, you have succeeded in getting something definite for me to act on; two, you believe yourself to be in danger of your life. In the latter case, evidence or no evidence, you can count on me to come with all the King's horses and all the King's men moving to your rescue.'
The Satanist Page 3