A young man with long hair was seated there tapping away at a typewriter. I asked quickly if he happened to know the address of the previous tenant and how long it was since he had left. With a shrug, he replied, 'No, I don't even know his name. But I've been here a fortnight.'
I thanked him and backed out just in time to meet the landlady as she reappeared up the basement stairs. She handed me an envelope and with a murmur of thanks I left the house.
It had jumped to my mind that Lothar had left some paper with the woman because he thought it too dangerous to carry about with him, so he was still in this country and, with luck, it might be something which would enable me to trace him; or, rather, enable the police to do so, as, by then, I had made up my mind to put them on to him as an enemy agent.
With trembling fingers I opened the envelope. It contained only a single sheet of paper with the following words printed on it in capitals - 'Congratulations on Dinah. She must love you a lot, and I'm sorry I won't be in England when you have your next night out. I wonder how she will take it when you have to tell her about the Wilberforce woman?'
My feelings can be imagined as the full implications of the swinish double trick he had played me sank in. And as he had evidently left the country it was useless to go to the police.
Desperately I wondered what to do. At first I felt inclined to tell the truth, both to Dinah and to a solicitor as my defence in the divorce case now pending against me. But since Lothar could no longer be laid by the heels and brought into court as evidence of my innocence, I knew that I should never be believed. I had told Dinah about Lothar, and his being my identical twin, during our engagement, but I don't think his name had been even mentioned between us since. If only I'd told her about my seeing him in London, or gone to the police then, I would have had some sort of case, but to state now that my twin brother had turned up out of the past and impersonated me would sound laughably thin.
One thing I could do was to subpoena the woman with whom Lothar had lodged because, obviously, I could not have been living in her house and at Farnborough at the same time; and that, in due course, I did, but it did not save the situation.
For some days I said nothing to Dinah, but I became so ill from worry that I decided the only way to escape a nervous breakdown was to come clean with her. Of course, I did not tell her that Lothar had slept with her that night I was in London, or that he was a Russian agent, as the first would have inflicted grievous pain on her unnecessarily and the second, if it now got out - my not having reported that at the time - might have cost me my job to no good purpose. I told her only that I had seen Lothar in London and that he had used my name when caught with the Wilberforce woman.
Dinah behaved very well; but it was obvious that she did not believe my story. She took a night to think things over, then told me that our future must depend on what transpired when the case was heard. If I could prove my innocence she would most humbly beg my pardon for having doubted me. If I'd suffered a temporary aberration and it was a single slip, she would forgive me. But if it emerged that I had been having a regular affair with this woman, she would have to think again. In the meantime she meant to go back and live with her parents.
As the case could not be heard until the autumn session, I spent a miserable summer. At last it came on and in court I saw Mrs. Wilberforce for the first time. She was a Spanish type black-haired and good looking, and had plenty of sex appeal. I suppose I should have expected it, but to my horror she greeted me as an old friend, and said, with a reproachful smile:
'I do think, Otto, you've behaved awfully badly in not writing or coming to see me all this time. What's done's done, and it couldn't have made matters any the worse for you.'
All I could do was to make no reply and give her a stony stare.
The case did not take long, as my only witness, the lodging-house woman, let me down completely. My solicitor had told me that she had proved extremely awkward and refused to sign a statement; and now in court she declared on oath that she had never before set eyes on me.
Her reason was not far to seek. She must have been in the pay of the Russians to take lodgers that they sent her, ask no questions and keep her mouth shut. Evidently she believed me to be a Soviet agent and, for her own safety, had determined to deny all knowledge of me, so that should I later be arrested she would escape being involved in the case.
The verdict, of course, went against me; but after that I thought my fortunes were changing for the better. The cross-examination of the Wilberforces' cleaning woman had disclosed that her mistress frequently entertained men alone in the flat when her husband was absent; so the damages awarded to Wilberforce were much less than I had feared I should have to pay and, as this also revealed her as unlikely to be the kind of woman I would have had a regular affair with, I had good hopes that Dinah would return to me.
Alas, I had underestimated Lothar's vindictiveness. With diabolical cunning he had left a hidden landmine to make more certain the wrecking of my marriage. Like so much else about us, our writing was so similar that he had never had any difficulty in forging mine, and he had made most skilful use of a letter purporting to have been written by me to Mrs. Wilberforce.
In it he referred with filthy delight to certain obscenities in which they had indulged on his previous visits to her, and said how greatly he was looking forward to another session of the same kind when he came to see her at six o'clock on the evening of my dinner in London. But instead of sending it to her he had sent it to her husband with an anonymous note to the effect that the writer had found it in a handbag that she had left behind in a night-club. It was this which had led Wilberforce to turn up at their flat unexpectedly at the hour given, as Lothar had evidently planned he should, and so catch them in bed together.
Fortunately for my reputation, as the case against me appeared such a clear one the contents of the letter had not been disclosed in court but only mentioned as the reason for Wilberforce having surprised his wife. But the solicitors who were holding a watching brief for Dinah requested a sight of it afterwards, and their report to her proved my final undoing. She started divorce proceedings against me and early in 1951 was granted her decree nisi.
I have not seen Lothar in the flesh, or heard anything of him, since our one meeting in May 1950. But I feel certain that he is now in England, and have the impression that he is living somewhere near the East Coast. Anyway, he is endeavouring to condition my mind to a state in which I would be prepared to meet him again. Should he succeed, it is quite possible that this time I shall murder him. It is in case I should do so that I have set all this down; as it may be regarded as some justification for my act, and stand me in better stead than would the same account if extracted from me, piece by piece, under police examination after the crime had been committed.
Apart from the poignant tragedy unfolded in it, this second instalment gave Verney considerable concern. From it there could be no doubt that Lothar had completely gone over to the Russians. Therefore, if he was now in England and endeavouring to get hold of his brother, the odds were all against his wanting to do so only for personal reasons; it was much more likely that he hoped to induce him to give away information connected with his secret work and was, in fact, a Soviet agent.
That being so, no effort must be spared to secure his arrest. But with the information so far to hand, there was no more chance of finding him than a needle in a haystack. Owing to Otto's justifiable hatred of Lothar, it seemed unlikely that he would be persuaded to agree to a meeting but, if he did, Lothar would have to disclose his whereabouts to him, and then would come a chance to pounce. Perhaps at that point Otto might be persuaded to co-operate; but, in asking him to do so, Verney saw a snag. If Lothar was overlooking him he might learn of his brother's intention to betray him and so avoid the trap.
After some thought C.B. decided to await developments for a while, but to take the precaution of sending Forsby two extra assistants with instructions that, should Otto leave the station, they w
ere to tail him and, if he met his twin, arrest both brothers.
For another three-quarters of an hour the Colonel rapidly read through an assortment of documents, then his buzzer went and his secretary said over the inter-com: 'Mr. Sullivan is here and would like to see you. He says it is rather important.'
'Send him in,' replied Verney, and a moment later he was greeting Barney. 'Hello, young feller! Been in the wars?'
Barney's eye was getting back to normal, but the flesh round it still showed discolouration. 'No, Sir,' he grinned. 'Just a tiff with a stout fellow who didn't like my politics.'
'Well, what's the news? It had better be pretty good, because I've got my plate extra full this morning.'
'It is, Sir. I tried to get you Friday night, but they said you wouldn't be back till this morning. I've got the low-down on the source from which the Commies draw their secret funds to prolong unofficial strikes.'
'Have you indeed! Good work. Sit down and tell me more.'
'There are about fifty men at a small factory out at Hendon who have been on strike for some weeks without Union backing. My Red pals on the District Committee haven't made any secret of it from me that they are giving unofficial assistance to the strikers. On Friday, as I'm an out-of-work, I managed to get myself picked as one of the two body-guards against a possible hold-up to go with the official who draws the money from the bank. We drove in a car to Floyds branch in Tottenham Court Road. There were two big bags of silver, so I and my opposite number took those while the Chief Scout locked up the notes in his brief case. To my disappointment he had pushed the cheque across the counter face down, but after the cashier had paid out a clerk came along to speak to him. He was still holding the cheque in his hand, but not looking at it. Without thinking he turned it over and I succeeded in getting a squint at the side that mattered. It was drawn on the account of the Manual Workers' Benevolent Society.'
'Well done, partner. Nice work.' C.B. flicked open his case and offered the long cigarettes. 'I'll see the right chap at the Treasury and ask him to find out for us who finances this Workers' Benevolent. Under the Currency Regulations the banks are now obliged to disclose certain information when it is applied for officially. Copies of the Benevolent's passbook sheets will give us its source of income, and that may well lead to something I'd very much like to know. Tell me now, what's the latest on Tom Ruddy's chances for Secretary-General of the C.G.T.?'
'I'd say they're jolly good. He was down here addressing a meeting of London delegates last night. Not being a delegate I wasn't entitled to attend, but I thought it important to find out the form from a ring-side seat if I possibly could, and I managed to wangle my way in on the ticket of a chap whose pocket I'd picked outside. It was pretty lively; plenty of heckling, of course, but Ruddy is used to that and, by and large, he put up a first-class performance. When the meeting was wound up, there could be no doubt that the majority of the delegates were all for him.'
'That's good to hear. If he can get himself elected I'm sure it will have a most stimulating effect on the workers who would like to oust their Communist representatives from other Trade Unions. Anything to report on your second string?'
'I don't quite get you, Sir?'
C.B. shrugged. 'Your main assignment is to get me all the dope you can on Communist secret procedure - like running this account in the name of the Workers' Benevolent. By second string, I mean following up any lead that might help us to solve Morden's murder. When you were last here you had a hunch that his sudden interest in Theosophy would be worth investigating.'
'Sure, and I did, Colonel.' The Irishism came out quite spontaneously, as Barney ran a hand through his short dark curls. 'And I've made a start on it. I couldn't go to old Mother Wardeel's last night, because of Ruddy's meeting. But I went the week before. She is running what I'd guess to be quite a profitable racket with no harm to it. No doubt most of the stuff she puts on is faked, but it provides something to natter about for a bunch of mostly worthy types who have more time and money than sense. I made two contacts that may prove worth cultivating, though: a Babu and a very attractive young woman.'
An image of Mary immediately sprang to C.B.'s mind. As a lead to checking up if it were she that Barney had encountered, he raised a prawn-like eyebrow and remarked: 'I shouldn't have thought that sort of thing held much appeal for young people; she must have been quite an exception.'
'Not as regards age. Of the twenty-odd women there, four or five were under thirty; and one was a tall blonde who might quite well have been a film starlet.'
This coincidence made Verney think it probable that Mary had balked at taking his tip to dye her beautiful golden hair, so was the blonde Barney had referred to; but, seeking to confirm this impression, he asked, 'What type is this young woman in whom you are interesting yourself?'
'She is a brunette. Brown as a Mediterranean mermaid, shoulder length hair that curls at the ends, eyebrows with a slightly satanic tilt, and a mouth as red as a pomegranate. She is a Mrs. Mauriac, and the widow of a Frenchman who was a Customs Officer.'
The description differed so greatly from C.B.'s memory of Mary Morden that he decided that, if she had carried out her intention of going to Mrs. Wardeel's, she must be the film-starlet. Meanwhile Barney was going on, 'She certainly is a poppet. That is, to look at. But she's one of the most puzzling pieces one could come across in a long day's march.'
'In what way?'
'Well, she talks in a most sophisticated manner about the sort of games one would expect Satanists to get up to, yet acts as if she were sweet seventeen and had never been kissed.'
'It seems that she is very forthcoming to strangers; or else you must be quite a psychologist to have found all this out about her in one meeting at which a lot of other people were present.'
Barney grinned. 'Oh no. Twice since I have taken her out to dinner.'
'I see. And is it your intention to charge these outings up on your expense account?'
'Certainly, Sir.' Barney's voice was firm. 'And since she knows me as Lord Larne I had to do her jolly well. Besides, all work and no play, you know. But, joking apart, it really was for the good of the cause.'
'Seeing how infernally tight the Government keeps us for money, you'll have to justify that.'
'I learned that she had been to a place that I believe to be a Satanic temple.'
C.B. smiled. 'If it is, and you can take me to it, I'll certainly have that chalked up to you as the price of one dinner.'
' I can't. I don't know where it is. Neither does she.'
'Was she doped before being taken there?'
'No; blindfolded. And I may be barking up the wrong tree. Over dinner on Sunday night she was getting quite chatty about it. She described the interior of the place, a Brotherhood of masked, near-nude men and women, and various wonders performed by a priest dressed up like the Devil whom they call the Great Ram. Then she suddenly closed up like a clam; told me she had been pulling my leg and that really the place was only a joint where they practise Yoga.'
'Do you know who took her there?'
'Yes, Sir. That's just the point. It was one of Mrs. Wardeel's regular supporters: an Indian named Ratnadatta. He is the other bird I am interested in, because he's too intelligent to waste his evenings stooging around with that sort of crowd unless he has some ulterior motive.'
'You think he might be a sort of talent scout, keeping an eye out for likely suckers who could be made use of, one way or another, by some Black fraternity?'
'That's it, Sir. I heard him disparaging Mrs. Wardeel's outfit to Mrs. Mauriac as no better than a children's circus, and saying that, if she was really interested in the occult, he could show her some real grown-up stuff. That was a week ago last Tuesday, and on Saturday night she went to this place with him.'
'And what do you deduce from all this?'
'Well, Teddy Morden became a regular attendant at Mrs. Wardeel's parties, didn't he? Perhaps this Indian gent introduced him, too, into this sixth-form set-up
. Maybe the whole thing is a mare's nest, and Mrs. Mauriac really was pulling my leg about it being a Black Magic circle. But if she wasn't, I think it's on the cards that it was there that Morden got up against trouble.'
'That's fair enough. All right. I'll O.K. both your dinners. What is your next move to be?'
Barney grinned. 'I'm going after Mr. Ratnadatta. I'm certain he's up to no good; and I mean to have the pants off him before he is much older.'
10. Ordeal of a neophyte
On Saturday Mary could settle to nothing. She had no engagements during the day, so after tidying her flat and doing her week-end shopping she had nothing to occupy her. In turn she tried the radio and reading a thriller, and abandoning both went out to see a film; but even that failed to hold her interest for more than a few minutes at a time. She simply could not keep hrr mind from speculating on what might happen to her that evening.
She endeavoured to fortify herself by remembering that Ratnadatta had been quite definite in his assurances that she would not be required to offer herself in service to the Temple until her initiation, and that before that there was a second stage to be gone through in which some token act of work in the interests of the Brotherhood had to be performed.
But how much reliance could she place on his word? She would have to trust herself to him again in that old mansion hidden in a slum, which was now the secret meeting place of depraved men and women. For the ceremony it was certain that she would have to go down into the temple among them. She would, almost certainly, be expected first to undress and don their uniform of only a mask, silver sandals and a transparent muslin cloak. She had no illusions about the emotions that the sight of herself aroused in men, often even quite respectable ones, when they saw her in a swim-suit on a bathing beach. What if some of the Brotherhood followed their own dictum, 'Do what thou wilt shall be the Whole of the Law' and set upon her? Even if Ratnadatta had the will to protect her, would he be able to do so? And why should they refrain from demanding of a neophyte what they might expect to be given willingly by an initiate?
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