Dangerous Inheritance

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘Pass maybe. But that’s not the point. His mental processes are different, and the colour of his skin is the outward sign of that. A line has got to be drawn somewhere, and that line is colour.’

  ‘You are for Apartheid, then; like those beastly whites in South Africa?’

  ‘What’s so terrible about that?’

  ‘Sakes alive, honey! It’s unthinkable.’

  ‘Well, this isn’t the States, and if I choose to dance with Douglas you can’t stop me.’

  ‘I know; I know. But don’t you see that for any white girl to become familiar with a coloured man is letting the side down? Give them an inch and they’ll take an mile. Thats just what we’re up against. As long as they were regarded as inferiors, which they are, everything was all right, and they were perfectly content. But in recent times so many misguided people have encouraged them to think they are as good as us that they are getting the bit between their teeth and demanding what they call their “rights”.’

  ‘They are their “rights”,’ replied Fleur angrily. ‘The right of every human being to be regarded as the equal of all others. Anyway, until you are prepared to treat Douglas as your equal you needn’t expect to sleep with me again.’

  ‘Oh come, honey. You’re not going to lock your door against me tonight. I want you, and want you bad.’

  ‘I am. But not for that reason.’

  ‘Then why, if I do my best to forget the colour of his skin?’

  ‘For a perfectly good feminine one which you ought to be old enough to guess,’ Fleur replied. And, turning, she walked rapidly away.

  On thinking the matter over Truss derived a sop of comfort from the thought that, after all, this was Corfu, not Charleston nor, for that matter, anywhere else in the States where a girl of good family seen dancing with a coloured man would have been ostracised by her acquaintances. He then decided that if he was to regain Fleur’s goodwill he must swallow the prejudice with which he had been brought up and make himself pleasant to the Sinhalese; so the following morning he suggested that they should take Douglas in to see the town.

  On this occasion they went into the Metropolis, as the Greek Orthodox Cathedral is called, in which is enshrined the body of St. Theodora; then into the Church of St. Spyridion, Corfu’s patron saint, whose body lies there in a great silver sarcophagus. Both buildings were rich with paintings in elaborately carved gilt frames, mosaics, ikons and chandeliers; and moving sedately about were numerous black-robed priests wearing their high, flat-crowned hats and with their hands clasped in front of them.

  In St. Spyridion one of the priests gave them a smiling greeting and showed them round, then told them the story of the saint. His birthplace had been Cyprus and he had performed a miracle while attending the famous Council of Nicaea. He had died in the year 350 and a hundred and one years later, on sweet-smelling odours emanating from his grave, his body had been exhumed and installed in his church at Timython. When Cyprus fell to the Saracens the saint’s body had been secretly conveyed to Constantinople, but that city also fell in 1453.

  A priest named George Kalaichairetis had determined to save the body, together with that of St. Theodora; so he had stuffed both into sacks and loaded them, one either side, on a donkey. Pretending the sacks held only fodder, the courageous George had made his way through Infidel-held Greece and eventually reached Corfu. There, these holy relics had been received with due veneration and as, soon afterwards, the Corfiotes attributed the cessation of a plague to St. Spyridion, they had made him their patron.

  In his will George had left the body of St. Spyridion to his two eldest sons and that of St. Theodora to the youngest. After three generations the testaments of the brothers had led to St. Theodora becoming the property of the Church, but a niece named Asimene had inherited St. Spyridion and on her marrying a Corfiote noble named Bolgaris it had passed to that family, who had continued to own it and receive the rich revenue in offerings that it brought right up to the present day.

  On leaving the church, Fleur, Truss and Douglas drove out to the Castello, a fine crenellated pseudo-mediaeval building with a lofty tower, some miles to the north-west of the town, that had been turned into a hotel. While the waiter was getting them their drinks Truss remarked:

  ‘What an extraordinary thing that a priest should have considered the bodies of two saints to be his personal property, and that a private family should still be making a big income out of one of them.’

  Fleur shrugged. ‘It’s even more surprising that in this day and age hordes of people should still believe that they can do any good for themselves by paying good money to venerate a casket full of old bones.’

  ‘Such beliefs die hard,’ said Douglas. ‘Many wealthy Buddhists in Ceylon who have been educated at universities continue to make rich gifts to the Temple of the Tooth at Kandy.’

  ‘It is the Buddhists who are responsible for the persecution of the Tamils, isn’t it?’ Fleur asked.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, the Buddhists are a big force in the “Everything for the Sinhalese” movement. After years of sloth there was a strong Buddhist revival in the 1880s. They argued that when Ceylon was a Sinhalese kingdom Buddhism had enjoyed a privileged position, whereas under the British it had been usurped by the Christian religion. It is true, of course, that pupils educated in Christian schools got all the best jobs, because they were taught English.

  ‘As long as British rule continued the Buddhists got no redress for their grievance, but when Ceylon received independence there came another great upsurge of Buddhist feeling, and in 1950 Buddhist leaders from all over the world assembled in Ceylon to inaugurate the World Fellowship of Buddhists. After that our Buddhists began to agitate in a big way for the official language to be changed. Neither Senanayake nor Kotelawala would give in but Bandaranaike got elected largely on that ticket, and two months later the “Sinhala Only” Bill was passed.

  ‘Not unnaturally the Tamils began to kick. They organised strikes and riots in which quite a number of people were killed; so Bandaranaike reached a compromise with Chelvanayakam that a limited use of Tamil should be permitted in certain provinces, and various other matters. It is his having recently gone back on his pact that is causing the present trouble.’

  ‘The Tamils are Hindus, aren’t they?’ said Fleur.

  ‘Yes; they first invaded Ceylon from southern India many centuries ago, and there was a time when in the north of the island there were Tamil Kings. But there was another great influx in the latter part of the last century, and it still continues because Ceylon is a richer country than the part of India they come from, and our estate owners are glad to employ Tamils because they work much harder than the Sinhalese.’

  Stubbing out a cigarette, Douglas went on, ‘I should, perhaps, explain that there are two types of Tamils: those who are the descendants of the original invaders and the much more recent immigrants whom we call “Indian Tamils”. Under the old constitution all Tamils had the vote and some of the up-country constituencies even sent Indian Tamils to Parliament. But Bandaranaike’s Government has deprived them of their citizenship, which makes them virtually “stateless persons”, and it has also brought in laws that deprive them of the right to own land. As there are nearly a million of them, that is a very serious matter; and naturally the Ceylon Tamils give them every possible support.’

  That evening at dinner the Duke said to Richard, ‘Mr. Rajapakse has now given me all the information he can about my unexpected inheritance so I expect his business commitments will necessitate his shortly returning to Ceylon. But before he leaves us I think he ought to see a little more of this lovely island; so perhaps you would care to take him for a run round it tomorrow.’

  Douglas gave a little bow. ‘You are most kind, sir. But I was due for some leave, and having come here at your request I can now think of no more enjoyable way of spending it than in Corfu. In the meantime, of course, my partners will be looking after your interests in Ceylon.’ Turning to Richard he added, ‘If it
is convenient to you, sir, a trip round the island tomorrow would be delightful; then in the evening I will move down to a hotel in the town.’

  Truss had been consoling himself with the thought that within a day or two he would be relieved of Rajapakse’s unwelcome presence altogether, so he found this new development most displeasing. A moment later his annoyance was turned to silent fury, for de Richleau said:

  ‘No, no. You will do no such thing. You make a most pleasant addition to our company. I shall be happy for you to remain here as my guest for as long as you like.’ And Douglas gratefully accepted.

  Next day, leaving only the Duke behind, they drove across the centre of the island and through a fertile plain watered by Corfu’s only sizable river to Sidar, at the west end of the north coast. Near the little town, where the river enters the Adriatic, there are some remarkable formations of smooth, flat, tiered rocks that have been eroded into layers by the sea. They bathed from them, then picnicked and lay baking themselves in the sun.

  Later in the week they made another expedition, through Corfu then along the poor but picturesque coast road that runs below Mount Pantokrator, the highest mountain in the island, right round the big gulf to the beautiful cypress-fringed bay of Kouloura. From there, in the crystal-clear air, the coast of Albania looked only a stone’s throw away, and it was surprising to think that through all the centuries of strife the Infidel had never succeeded in crossing in force such a narrow strait.

  On other days they went into the town, bathed below the villa and lay in hammocks in the garden. But wherever Fleur and Truss went Douglas went with them and, as time went on, Truss found it more and more difficult to continue being polite to him. It was not only that his presence prevented a tête-à-tête with Fleur but that it was the two of them who did most of the talking. Truss, being fresh from college, had little knowledge of the world. It was a passion for winter sports, acquired when young, that had led him to persuade his father to let him go to its Mecca for undergraduates, Dartmouth in New Hampshire. But his triumphs as a skier cut little ice with Fleur and apart from brief trips to England and the Caribbean he had never been outside the United States. Whereas Douglas, who was ten years older, not only knew London, Paris and Rome, but had visited India, Singapore, Rangoon, Bangkok and numerous other places in the East, and could talk most interestingly about them and their social problems, a subject to which Fleur never tired of listening.

  Unhappily, but doggedly, Truss tagged along with them, inwardly seething with rage when Fleur placidly agreed to sightseeing that she had refused to do with him.

  They spent one morning in the old Palace, where the Archaeological Museum was housed, looking at archaic Greek sculptures that had been dug up in the island, and the famous collection of Sino-Japanese art, upon which Douglas commented with interest and humour. Another morning Fleur, un-protesting, endured the long walk to the south of the town, along the peninsula of Kanoni, to catch a glimpse of Mon Repos, the present residence of the Greek Royal family when in Corfu.

  Impatiently Truss waited till near the end of the week; then, by lying in wait for Fleur, he managed to corner her. With an eager grin he said, ‘How about it, sweetie? Is everything all right with you now?’

  She shrugged, ‘I’m over the curse, if that’s what you mean But I’m not feeling like romps at the moment. We’ll see next week.’

  ‘Oh, come on, honey,’ he protested. ‘I could soon make you feel——’

  ‘No!’ She cut him short abruptly. ‘You must learn, Truss, that you’ll get no fun from pressing a girl when she doesn’t feel like it.’

  Sulkily he turned away, mentally cursing Rajapakse; for, although it was inconceivable to him that Fleur might have fallen for a coloured man, it was his arrival and presence to which he attributed the break between himself and her.

  Richard and Marie Lou had also observed with growing concern the new orientation in Fleur’s interest. That same night when in bed they discussed it unhappily.

  ‘This fellow turning up when he did was the most lousy luck,’ Richard declared. ‘It really looked as if Fleur and Truss were going to make a go of it; now she’s scarcely civil to him.’

  ‘I know,’ agreed Marie Lou. ‘But it’s quite understandable. Truss is hardly out of the egg, whereas Douglas is so much older and, one must admit, a polished man of the world. One can’t wonder that she is attracted to him.’

  ‘Attracted! God forbid! Surely you don’t mean …?’

  ‘Of course not, stupid. Anything physical between them is unthinkable. It wouldn’t even cross Fleur’s mind, and I’m sure he’s much too much of a gentleman to make a pass at her. But they are both interested in things that Truss knows nothing about; so it’s only natural that they should enjoy talking together and tend to freeze him out.’

  ‘Well, it’s got to be broken up somehow; so that Truss can pick things up from things up from where they started

  ‘What do you suggest?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking. Truss is due to do Italy. How about our cutting short our stay here, inviting him to join us, going to Rome, hiring a car and the four of us making a tour of Florence, Siena, Perugia, Urbino and all those other places?’

  ‘That’s an excellent idea, and I’d love it. But it would be hard on Greyeyes.’

  ‘I know. But he’s the most understanding person in the world; and we could come back for another stay here with him in the autumn.’

  As a result of this midnight conversation, Richard put the matter to the Duke the following morning. The old man, whose principal amusement these days was watching other people’s reactions to changing situations, was well aware of the rift that Rajapakse had created between Fleur and Truss; so he said:

  ‘My dear Richard, I sympathise with your hopes and fully appreciate your concern. In the circumstances the arrival here of our charming Sinhalese was most unfortunate. But having invited him to stay as long as he likes I cannot possibly get rid of him for you. Loath as I am to lose you and Marie Lou, your proposal at least offers a possibility of pulling the chestnuts out of the fire; so by all means adopt it.’

  At lunch that day with kind but slightly cynical amusement de Richleau listened while Richard, with somewhat forced gaiety, put forward his plan for Marie Lou, Fleur and himself to tour central Italy, then invited Truss to join them.

  Truss accepted with alacrity, but Fleur remained silent for a moment, her full mouth taking on a sulky line. Then she said, ‘If you all want to go and stare at a hundred and ten Madonnas suckling an overweight infant, by all means do. But Grandpa Greyeyes invited us for a month and I’m staying here.’

  5

  It Could Have Been Murder

  At Fleur’s unequivocal declaration one of those silences that can be felt descended on those round the table. Marie Lou had long since given up the unequal struggle of arguing with her daughter and Richard, equally aware of the futility of endeavouring to persuade her to change her mind, forbore to comment. She was their only child, and for her he had the great fondness of a naturally affectionate man, but at times she drove him to a frenzy. With difficulty he suppressed an angry retort and concentrated viciously on the contents of his plate. And there, with the old Duke having difficulty in suppressing mild mirth at their discomfiture, the matter was dropped.

  That evening Truss again managed to get Fleur on her own for a few minutes, and he said, ‘Look, honey. I appreciate your not rating Italian Masters all that interesting, but how about us? Surely you must be feeling pretty good again by now, and I’m just aching to do this and that with you again. How about tonight?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Truss. Really, I am not in the mood. And, after all, you have no reason to complain even if we never do again. In fact you owe me quite a lot. I’ve initiated you into what are called the “mysteries of sex”, and next time you feel like going to bed with a girl you’ll be able to put up a good performance.’

  ‘Do you… d’you mean,’ he gasped, ‘that you don’
t mean to let me again, ever?’

  ‘I didn’t say that,’ she hedged. ‘And we had great fun while it lasted, but … Well, at the moment my mind is on other things.’

  ‘It’s on Douglas,’ he snapped, seizing her by the shoulders. ‘That’s the truth, isn’t it? You’ve fallen for that slick Douglas. Oh God, Fleur! How could you! Surely you wouldn’t——’

  ‘Of course not!’ She broke away and glared at him angrily. ‘But he’s got a brain ten times the size of yours. And since you insist on the truth, you’ve become an unwanted third as far as going about with us is concerned. I want to find out much more about him; things he wouldn’t tell me in front of you. Tomorrow I thought we’d hire a boat and go sailing. If you’ve any gratitude for what I’ve given you, you’ll make some excuse to stay in the town and let us go off on our own.’

  ‘Very well,’ he said dully. ‘If that’s the way you want it. The sooner you’ve gotten over swapping life-stories with that so-and-so, the better I’ll be pleased.’ By mutual consent they turned and walked back in silence to join the others.

  Next morning Fleur carried out her plan. With the best grace Truss could muster he said he wanted to have another look round the Museum, and the other two put off in a small boat into the blue bay. For a couple of hours he strolled listlessly about the galleries, regarding with unseeing eyes primitive stone carvings of lions and human torsos, broken pottery and beautiful Byzantine mosaics, while brooding about Fleur and wondering moodily whether the absorbed interest she showed in Douglas could really be explained in any other way than that she had fallen for him.

  Admittedly they had said that the time of their return must be governed by wind and tide, but as it was a day of light breezes Truss expected them to be back for lunch; so from a little before one o’clock he began to haunt the water front. Half past and two o’clock came, but there was still no sign of them, so he bought a big punnet of strawberries from a vendor and ate them disconsolately without sugar while leaning against a bollard.