The Satanist mf-2

by Dennis Wheatley

  'It won't be jail, Wash. The British will hang you.'

  'Nerts! They've no jurisdiction over a member of the United States forces.'

  'Maybe not, but they'll get you tried for murder.'

  'What in heck are you driving at?'

  'You remember the detective who came to the Cedars - Lord Larne?'

  'Yeah; but we didn't kill him. He made a getaway after you threw that crucifix.'

  'I know.' She strove to choose her words carefully now, so as not to incriminate herself. 'But I told you at the time that I knew him - that he had been accepted as a neophyte by the circle at Cremorne. It's certain that your flying out with the war-head will have sent the balloon up. After that Scotland Yard would not have delayed another hour in raiding the Temple. There must be papers there they will have seized, and some of the Brotherhood will have been arrested. Ratnadatta will have been, for certain, because Lord Larne knew him quite well. The odds are he'll turn Queen's Evidence to save his own skin; and he owes you a grudge. He'll put you on the spot as having taken part in the murder of that other police spy. The one you told me about.'

  For a moment Wash remained silent, then his dark eyes narrowed. 'You've sure got something there, honey. If the British have bust that Temple open and got Ratnadatta it could be pretty hot for me. Go or stay put it looks as though I'm for it either way.'

  His words braced her for her next effort. They showed that he was coming round to where she wanted him; but before she could speak again he gave a sudden laugh and dashed her hopes.

  'We've been talking foolish. When the Big Chief lets off his rocket the past will be washed out. Here in Switzerland I guess we'll stand a better chance of survival than most. But Scotland Yard, Ratnadatta, the air base at Fulgoham - they'll mean as little to us as Noah and his Ark. There'll be no one left to indict.'

  To Mary it was a body blow; for in the urgency of the moment both of them had failed to take into account the effects of the rocket and now, by doing so, he had nullified all the arguments by which she had been endeavouring to steer him into attacking the Great Ram. Even so, she made a quick recovery.

  'Of course; how stupid of me. But it was you who brought the war-head here. You can't get away from that. And the Swiss must know it. If the rocket is fired you will be accounted guilty of mass murder. They'll not try and hang you but tear you limb from limb.'

  He passed a hand over his still sweating forehead. 'Sure, sure. I'd not thought of that. Then I'd best remain here. I've got my gun. I'll shoot it out with them as they come up.'

  'No,' she cried, 'That would mean death for certain. If you've got the guts, you can still save yourself.'

  'Tell, honey, tell? I like my life.'

  'You must face up to that fiend and stop him launching his rocket.'

  Wash groaned. 'You don't know what you're asking.'

  'He was right, then,' she flung at him contemptuously, 'when he said this morning that you were only a little backwoods magician.'

  'Did he say that!' Momentarily Wash's hook-nosed face showed angry belligerence. Then he shrugged. 'Well, maybe he's right. Anyways I'm not in his class. Didn't I try all I knew to break that barrier he put up 'cross my cabin door? No, he's the tops. He'd turn me into a cockroach and stamp on me.'

  'All right then! Forget all this bloody magic! You're a man, aren't you, and so is he. You've got a gun. Go down there and shoot him.'

  He stared down at her. 'If I could catch him unawares I might. Odds are, though, he'd pick up my vibrations. Then he'd paralyse me before I could get a bead on him.'

  She seized the lapels of his jacket and, her face turned up to his raved at him, 'You've got to risk it! Don't you see that it is your only hope! You brought the war-head here believing that it was to be let off in Switzerland, with the result that all such weapons would be abolished and the world relieved for good from the fear of a nuclear war. That's the truth. When the time comes you must tell it and shame the Devil. But there is more to it than that. Much more. You'll be the man who saved civilization. All the evil things you've ever done will be forgiven and forgotten. You'll never be charged with rape, or arson, or murder. Instead you'll be the world's No. One hero. The British will make you a Duke and the Americans a millionaire. Even the Russians will give you the Order of Lenin or something. You'll never again have to run a shady racket to live in comfort. You'll be given lovely homes and lots of servants in all the countries you have saved from untold horror, and be received everywhere like a prince or a bigger than biggest film star.'

  Breathless, she paused, for she saw that the picture she painted had rung a bell. Swift as ever to react to fresh emotional stimulants, Wash was smiling, and he muttered, 'Could be; could be. Honey, you're a squaw in a million. I'll do it. Yes, I'll do it. I'll shoot the bastard in the back.'

  'Come on then!' She pulled him round to face the other way before some new thought might cause him to change his mind. Glancing at her watch, she added, 'It's twenty to twelve. We haven't any too much time.'

  'Steady!' he warned her. 'We'll be walking on egg shells and if we break one we'll get no second chance. Praises be, I was brought up to stalking from the time I was a papoose. Get your shoes off and keep a good twenty paces in rear of me. I learnt early to control my breathing, but he might hear yours.'

  As he spoke he was taking off his own shoes. Having done so he got out his automatic, tested the recoil with practised efficiency, and clicked a bullet up into its chamber. Giving her a smile he set off down the tunnel. She walked close behind him till she reached her cabin, slipped into it to collect the chopper she had left there, then, giving him the lead he had asked for, followed him, her heart beating like a sledge hammer.

  Ahead of her Wash gave no sign of any tension. He was not walking on tiptoe, but after each medium-length pace was putting a stockinged foot down firmly without a sound. He seemed to glide rather than walk, and in the dim light might have been taken for the dark ghost of some long dead giant.

  To Mary, as they advanced, time seemed to stand still. The only sound that broke the stillness was that of the drip of the melting ice at the entrances to the cave. Before she expected him to, Wash came to a halt. Seized with the idea that he had lost his nerve, and needed fresh encouragement, she continued to move forward stealthily. When she was within a yard of him he suddenly raised his gun, took a swift stride forward and fired.

  Just in time to see the first phase of the encounter on which so much depended, Mary rounded the curve of the cave. The Great Ram was standing by the rocket with his back turned. As though struck on the head with an invisible hammer he fell to his knees. But he had not been shot. Warned of his danger by telepathy, he had dropped of his own accord a second before Wash squeezed the trigger of his pistol.

  Its report, in that confined space, was deafening, and reverberated like thunder through the tunnel. In an instant the Great Ram had squirmed round to face the attack. His eyes, now appearing reddish, flashed as though they were rubies caught in a shaft of sunlight. The second bullet tore through the right sleeve of his coat, then he threw up his left hand as though in a futile attempt to ward off others.

  But his gesture was nothing of the kind. As he raised his hand Wash's gun hand, too, jerked upwards. The remaining bullets in his automatic sped in a swift fusillade harmlessly overhead. Before he or Mary even had time to move, the Great Ram's body became half obscured by black smoke. Rooted to the spot, Mary guessed what was about to happen. Within seconds the smoke solidified into the Black Imp.

  Wash gave a terrified bellow, 'No! No; no!' and turned to run. But in two bounds the infernal creature was upon him. It seemed to dissolve again and, paralysed by horror, Mary saw it streak into his wide open mouth. Next moment he dropped his gun and reeled forward, clutching at his stomach. Wisps of smoke were coming from his nostrils and his ears. His near-white hair was standing straight up on his head; his eyes, suffused with blood, were protruding as though on stalks. He was on fire inside. He emitted one long-drawn
scream that ended in a gurgle, then crashed face downwards on the floor.

  As he fell his right arm swung out and its fist, tight-clenched in the agony of death, struck Mary sharply on the thigh. The blow caused her to stagger, so jolting her out of the paralysis that had held her rigid with horror. Letting out a piercing shriek she turned and fled.

  For the next few moments she had no clear impressions. As though she had been transported by wings she found herself at the far entrance of the cave, brought up short in her flight by the edge of the rock platform. Her first conscious thoughts were that the Great Ram had triumphed and that the sands of her own life were swiftly running out.

  A shout from below caught her attention. Looking down she saw four of the teams of climbers all scaling the mountain by different routes; but the nearest was a good three hundred feet below the level of the cave. Still gasping for breath she shouted back. But her cry was one of despair, for the teams were moving upward only at a crawl, and she knew that they could not possibly arrive in time to save her- unless, unless she could find somewhere to hide.

  As she looked down she saw that about eight feet below the platform on which she stood there was another ledge. If she could reach it and crouch back against the rock face beneath the overhang she might conceal herself there while the Great Ram, failing to find her at the entrance to the cave, supposed that she was hiding in one of the cabins. By the time he had searched them all there was at least a chance that help might reach her.

  Two of the stanchions that supported the terminus of the cable railway were embedded in the lower ledge. Running along to the platform, she threw herself flat upon it, then wriggled backwards until her legs were dangling in space. A few wild kicks and they closed round the stanchion. There followed an awful moment as she lowered herself until she could also grip it with her hands. The ice-cold metal bit into them with savage heat. She gave a gasp of pain, released her hold and slid the last few feet to fall with a bump in the snow. Tears were now streaming down her face but, picking herself up, she scrambled along to the deepest indenture in the cliff wall and crouched down there.

  Yet her final bid to outwit the Great Ram was doomed to failure. He had followed her wild flight at only walking pace, but as soon as he reached the rock platform his intuition told him where she was. She had not been crouching beneath the overhang for much more than a minute when she heard him call to her from above to come out.

  She tried to crouch further back against the rock, but it was no good. Despite her efforts to remain where she was she found herself standing up and walking forward. The ledge was about ten feet wide. When she had covered half the distance he ordered her to stop, turn round and look up at him. Unresisting now, she did as she was bid.

  Tall, dark, saturnine, he stood right on the edge of the big platform looking down at her, his thin mouth curved in a smile. To her amazement his expression was no longer harsh or cynical, but, for the first time she had seen it on his face, a kindly one. And when he spoke his voice was gentle.

  'Circe, sometime neophyte of the Ram, I did you an injustice. Although it was impossible for you to defeat me, you have proved a more worthy opponent than I supposed any woman could. It is a tragedy that you should have chosen to adhere to the Christian heresy; otherwise you might have shared with me in ten minutes time the triumph for which I have worked so long. Had we met earlier I would have converted you to the true faith, and done you the honour to allow you to serve me both as a woman and a friend. As it is, in recognition of your courage, I will accord you mercy. Instead of inflicting my curse upon you, or sending my dark inner self to consume you in agony, as I did with the stupid giant you made your tool, I decree for you a swift and painless death. Turn about now and walk forward to the end decreed for you.'

  Before Mary had grasped the full significance of his words, she found that she had turned round. An intangible but irresistible force pressed upon her back. She strove to keep her legs rigid and her feet planted firmly, but the pressure against her shoulders increased, bending her forward. To keep her balance she was compelled to put out first one foot and then the other. Two more steps and she was on the edge of the ledge. Immediately below her was a nearly sheer drop of a thousand feet.

  In front of her the snow-capped peaks of the range on the other side of the valley glistened in the sunshine. Owing to the clear, rarefied atmosphere they looked so near that she could almost have stepped across to them, but actually they were miles away. Above them puffs of white cloud hung unmoving in a blue summer sky. Her eyes dropped to the green valley, with its toy tanks and tiny figures on the far side of the narrow, rushing stream. Then, much nearer, there were the teams of climbers. They had all halted and some men among them had rifles to their shoulders. One flashed. It was only then her brain registered the fact that they had been firing for some minutes.

  Suddenly she realized that they were firing at the Great Ram. A final hope stirred in her. If he were hit she would be reprieved from death. Frantically now she dug her heels into the hard snow and used every ounce of strength she had to throw herself backward. But her effort was useless. All she could achieve was to remain upright. And deep down in herself she knew that the Great Ram would not be hit. The magic aura with which he could surround himself would deflect the bullets.

  Still she battled to maintain her balance, pitting her will against his. But his was the stronger. Her head bowed under the pressure so that she was staring down into the abyss. Then, like an officer giving the order to a firing squad to shoot, she heard him call down to her the one word, 'Jump.'

  She flexed her knees, swayed sideways, threw up her arms, and with a wild cry fell outward into space.

  ***

  Immediately after receiving the radio message about Lothar's broadcast Verney asked the Lieutenant leading his party to circulate to all the other climbing teams an urgent signal. So far the troops had been told only that they were on an emergency operation and must get up to the cave for the purpose of arresting with the least possible delay anyone they found in it. Now they were told that in the cave there was a madman who had stolen an H bomb, and that he planned to let it off at midday. They were then called on to take risks if necessary and make an all-out effort to reach the cave in time. Verney also took it on himself to promise quadruple pensions for the dependants of men who might be injured or killed in the attempt, and rich rewards and honours for the first three teams to reach the cave. They were told, too, that although other teams were on the way to the far entrance of the cave, these had had to make a wide detour before starting their climb, so there was no chance of their reaching the goal first. In consequence, success or failure depended on the teams that had set out on the direct route up from the wrecked engine-house.

  There was no more that he could do; yet within the next few minutes it was apparent that the message had galvanized the troops into considerably swifter progress, and his own party resumed the climb at a faster pace.

  As the officer or N.C.O. leading each party carried a walkie-talkie set the Sergeant with Barney's team had received the radio message relayed from Berne at the same time as his Lieutenant. The moment Barney heard of it he too realized that only a superhuman effort could enable them to reach the cave before midday, and without waiting for C.B.'s message he urged his party to greater speed.

  For the amateurs the pace on the easier stretches became grinding; yet the harder ones caused them more distress from their very slowness on them, and the time it took to cut steps in the ice or plough through patches of soft snow. Many times they slipped and would, perhaps, have fallen to their deaths had it not been for the strong surefooted Alpine troops to whom they were roped before and behind.

  At times Barney almost despaired of reaching the cave at all. Every hundred feet or so his party found itself confronted with a great mass of overhanging rock, round which a way had to be worked, or a narrow, almost vertical chimney that had to be climbed as the only means of continuing the ascent. In one case they
had to cross a glacier and, in another, edge their way along thirty feet of ledge that was in no place more than eighteen inches wide. Not daring to look down, he kept his eyes fixed on the man in front of him, endeavouring to follow his footsteps exactly, but a dozen times his heart was in his mouth and he feared that at any moment he would fall headlong over the precipice.

  As they made their way upwards he lost all sense of time until, on coming out from beneath an overhang, he caught sight of the opening of the cave about three hundred feet above him. A quick glance at his watch showed that it was half past eleven. They had, he knew, performed marvels in the past hour, but to scale that last three hundred feet of snow and ice in less than the remaining thirty minutes seemed beyond even the greatest human endeavour.

  For a further quarter of an hour, sweating and straining, they toiled on. Then he heard a shout. It came from a member of another party some way to the left of his. The shout was quickly answered by another from higher up. Looking upward, he saw that a woman had emerged from the cave. A moment later he recognized her as Mary. His relief at knowing her still to be alive was so great that, although he waved, for a moment he could not utter a sound. Tears started to his eyes and he was choking with emotion.

  Within a few minutes all the men in the climbing teams who were in sight of the cave were staring up at her in wonder, as they saw her run to the cable-railway platform then risk a fall to death by wriggling out over its edge and supporting herself only by a precarious hold on one of its girders.

  As she slid to the ledge and picked herself up, Barney let his breath go in a gasp of relief. Finding his voice he urged his team to still greater efforts, but they had covered no more than a dozen paces when Lothar appeared on the upper platform. Verney and Barney both recognized him and almost simultaneously shouted:

  'There he is! Shoot him! Shoot! Shoot!'

  Some of the troops were armed with Sten guns and others with pistols. Only a few carried rifles, but those who did swiftly unslung them and opened fire. None of their bullets appeared to score a hit and in the next two minutes all the climbers who could see the cave watched with horror as Mary's tragedy was played out.