Dangerous Inheritance

by Dennis Wheatley

  As Ukwatte continued to harangue the Tamils they screamed abuse at him. Then suddenly the whole mob started forward in an ugly rush.

  Before they could reach the car Ukwatte sat down, pressed the starter and ran the car forward. Swiftly its pace increased and, ignoring his passengers, he came charging up the hill.

  ‘Good God!’ Richard exclaimed, levering himself up in his seat. ‘Your father must be crazy to have left the others there. Come on, man! We’ve got to get them.’

  Lalita already had his car in motion, but instead of running down the hill he gave the wheel a swift turn so that the vehicle nosed into the jungle. A moment later Ukwatte’s car roared past behind them.

  ‘What the hell are you up to?’ yelled Richard, seizing Lalita by the arm. Shaking off his grip Lalita reversed the car, then began to turn it to follow his father.

  Half standing, Richard, now frantic with anxiety, was still watching the scene below. The Tamils had not halted as Ukwatte drove off, but, with threatening yells, were now heading for de Richleau and the two women. They had turned and, evidently having decided that they could not reach Lalita’s car at the top of the hill, were running towards the plank that spanned the narrow gorge across the river.

  ‘You bloody coward!’ Richard cried, striking Lalita a backhander across the face.

  The car halted with a jerk. But Richard realised that there was no time to force Lalita to reverse again, or throw him out and take the wheel himself. Flinging open the door, he jumped to the ground and set off down the hill at a furious pace.

  As his flying feet struck and slithered on the loose pebbles of the road, he saw that the situation was desperate. He had about three hundred yards to cover and the screaming Tamils were about the same distance behind the others. The plank bridge was only a hundred yards ahead of them and, with the lead they had, they should have reached it easily but, fit as he was for his age, the Duke was too old to run any distance.

  Richard’s eyes were fastened on them in an agony of fear. Even as he prayed, ‘Oh God, don’t let those devils get them,’ de Richleau stumbled and fell. Fleur gripped him by one arm and Marie Lou by the other. Pulling him to his feet they dragged him along with them, but their pace was slowed and the howling Tamils were rapidly gaining on them.

  His lungs nearly bursting, Richard hurtled on down the slope. When he reached the flatter ground his pace increased still further by leaps and bounds. As his beloved ones staggered up a little rise that led to the near end of the plank, the Tamils were upon them. Fleur gained the plank, pulling de Richleau after her. Marie Lou, a small courageous figure, turned at bay and hit out at the nearest native.

  The man Marie Lou had struck gave back a pace, then sprang forward. Seizing her in his arms, he lifted her and turned to carry her off. Sick with horror at the thought of what they would do to her, Richard hurled himself forward. Grabbing the man by the hair, he jerked his head violently backward. The man gave a strangled gasp and dropped her. As she stumbled to her feet another of them ran at her; she dodged him, but a third grasped her by the wrist and began to drag her away.

  Richard was fending off two assailants, so could not go to her help. De Richleau, white-faced and shaken, was half lying on the far side of the plank, holding a hand to his chest as he laboured to recover from his unaccustomed exertion. But Fleur ran across to aid her mother. In her hand she held a stone the size of a cricket ball. From a distance of only four feet she hurled it into the man’s face. With a scream of agony he let Marie Lou go. Lurching away from him she staggered across the plank.

  Before Fleur could turn and follow her a huge, half-naked Tamil seized her round the waist. But Fleur was no Victorian maiden, and now her knowledge of the facts of life served her to good purpose. Thrusting down a hand she clutched the sweating native by his testicles and squeezed them with all her strength. His eyes started from their sockets. He let out a screech that echoed down the valley then, as she let go, reeled away vomiting. Swinging about, she dashed across the plank to join her mother.

  Richard could not have survived for two minutes had the Tamils been armed, but Ukwatte’s arrival had taken them by surprise while sitting in their compound holding a palaver. As things were, having been a good boxer in his youth he would have been a match for any one of them with his fists, but with four or five of them trying to overwhelm him he had all his work cut out to fend them off while holding the near end of the plank over which the others had reached temporary safety.

  From blows he had received his mouth was bleeding, his left eye was half closed and every time he hit out with his right fist he was racked by a stabbing pain from having wrenched his shoulder. He dared not look behind him, even for a second, to make sure where the end of the plank was, and feared now that if he retreated further he might miss it and go over backwards into the deep gully. His three-hundred-yard run had already left him breathless when he entered the fight. He was now almost at the end of his tether.

  Then a stone whizzed by on either side of him. One, thrown by Fleur, struck the man on his right on the ear, the other aimed by Marie Lou caught the man on his left in the chest. For a moment only the Tamil immediately in front of Richard continued to be a menace. Feinting with his right, Richard landed a blow on the native’s sparsely bearded chin. As the man rocked back Richard turned and, swaying drunkenly, crossed the plank before the others could rally to continue their attack on him.

  At its far end he turned, and not a second too soon. A scrawny fellow with gleaming white teeth protruding from his black face was coming after him. Fleur halted the man with another big stone, but only for a moment. Yet that was just enough for Richard to gasp in a breath and get a firm stance. As the man came at him again, he ducked a blow from him and hit him hard in the stomach. He doubled up, heeled over sideways and fell from the plank into the ravine.

  But the far bank now swarmed with glistening black bodies. From scores of throats came howls of abuse in a high-pitched tongue. A hundred eyes, their whites showing in strong contrast to the dark faces, glared hatred. On seeing their comrade hurtle into the rock-strewn torrent below the nearest Tamils had given back, but those behind were forcing them forward. Two had already been edged on to the plank. The foremost was only six feet from Richard. Although he would now have to take them on only one at a time he was terribly aware that his strength was ebbing. Soon his blows would be too feeble to ward them off. One of them would rush him and bear him to the ground, then the whole pack would tear him limb from limb. Yet it was not that thought that harrowed him. It was what these human beasts would do to his wife and daughter.

  It was the Duke who now temporarily saved the situation. On the slope below the caves several broken pit props and other mining debris lay scattered about. Stumbling to the nearest short length of timber, he snatched it up, ran the few steps back and thrust it into Richard’s hand. Now that he had a weapon a new surge of hope revived him. While the Tamils were hesitating to attack him again he had had a short breather. Then, gathering his remaining strength, he took a pace forward and swung his rough cudgel at the nearest man’s head.

  The Tamil threw up a knotted arm to fend off the blow. The rough wood cut savagely into his muscle. He gave a whimpering cry, stepped back, missed his footing and, his arms and legs whirling, plunged into the gulf below. Again Richard struck out. His second victim was not even quick enough to raise his arm. The cudgel struck him fairly on the head. He collapsed without a sound, blood seeping through his matted black hair as he rolled off the plank.

  The aged Duke, although no longer capable of taking part in a fight, still had an eye for a tactical situation. ‘Now’s our chance,’ he shouted to Richard. ‘Come back and we’ll pull the plank in.’

  Fearful of meeting the same fate as his predecessors, the nearest Tamil was stoutly resisting the efforts of his companions to thrust him forward. While they struggled there Richard beat a swift retreat. Marie Lou and Fleur, regardless of their nails, were already frantically digging aw
ay the earth in which the end of the plank was embedded. Richard was hardly past them when they had their fingers under it.

  ‘Heave!’ cried the Duke. ‘Lift, then pull on it.’

  Exerting all their strength, the two women raised the end of the plank a few inches. Richard stooped, grasped it and added his weight to theirs. Suddenly the far end of the plank came free. They all went over backwards, but the plank tilted sharply then, wrenching itself from their grasp, shot downwards to land with a splash in the river.

  For a couple of minutes, while the thwarted Tamils continued to yell at them, they remained where they had fallen, striving to get back their breath, and unutterably relieved at the thought that they had escaped from their enemies. But the moment the Duke saw that they had partially recovered he roused them to fresh action. Standing beside them he had been anxiously watching the Tamils on the far bank. Their excited chatter had suddenly ceased. As one man they turned away and the whole mob began to run down the road towards the mining village. Instantly he guessed their intention and cried:

  ‘They are making for the bridge down there. In ten minutes they’ll be across and swarming up this side. We can’t stay here or they’ll get us yet, and we’ll all be murdered.’

  9

  Within an Ace of Death

  As Richard, Marie Lou and Fleur got to their feet, the Duke pointed to the cliff behind them. ‘The mines! To get into one of them and hold it is our only chance.’

  The nearest cave-like entrance to a mine was only fifty yards away but the path that led up to it was steep and littered with loose stones. De Richleau had to be helped as they made their way up, and when they reached it he panted, ‘The entrance is too wide. We’d not be able to keep them out. It’s worth a few minutes to find a stronger situation.’

  Quickly they traversed a twenty-foot-wide ledge along the cliff face, on to which a number of the mines opened. As they came to the fourth Fleur, who was leading, cried, ‘This is a good one! It’s not very wide and there are some boxes and things with which we can barricade ourselves in.’

  They were still short of breath from their recent climb and without exchanging a word they set to work, knowing that their lives again depended on their exertions. The mining material Fleur had seen consisted only of a few wooden cases, some bundles of pitprops and a roll of wire netting. Hastily they made as good a barricade as possible with them across the ten-foot-wide entrance to the cave. The few boxes made a barrier only two feet high with small gaps between them. The ground was too hard to drive the pitprops into it and they had no nails to fasten the wire netting to them; but by wedging the props as best they could then tying them criss-cross with some pieces of cord they came upon, and weaving the wire netting in and out, they succeeded in making a breast-high palisade.

  These poor defences were scarcely completed when the sound of many tramping feet, coming from the opposite direction to that by which they had reached the cave, announced the approach of the murder-lusting mob. As the leaders caught sight of the barricade they halted, giving yells of triumph, and their followers surged up behind them until the broad shelf outside was packed with screaming Tamils.

  Three of the foremost launched themselves forward, grabbing at the loose wire to tear it away. But Richard, Marie Lou and Fleur had armed themselves with pit-props and with them jabbed at the ferocious black faces. Fleur got one man in the mouth, Richard another in the eye and Marie Lou got her man in the neck. With howls and groans the attackers staggered back, but only to be replaced by others seemingly berserk and urged on by the taunts of their women.

  For ten awful minutes the fracas raged. A part of the barricade was torn away but none of the Tamils succeeded in penetrating it. The sun was now high in the heavens and the heat in the cave almost intolerable. Its defenders—dirty, dishevelled, wild-eyed—were streaming with sweat. When, at last, the attack ceased they could hardly believe that they had succeeded in beating it off.

  Although no more of the Tamils seemed inclined to risk punishment, the men remained crowded outside while the women led off their wounded. After a short while they turned to one another and began to chatter like monkeys, evidently debating some means of more successful attack. Then, as though by common consent, they all moved away and in a matter of seconds the broad rock shelf in front of the cave became empty.

  Still keeping a sharp eye on the now deserted space, the inmates of the cave sat down to take a desperately needed rest. But not for long. Ten minutes later the Tamils appeared again, now carrying broken pit-props, branches of trees and other pieces of useless wood. One by one they flung their burdens down outside the barricade. De Richleau, grimly watching them, said in a low voice, ‘The devils are preparing a bonfire. They mean to smoke us out.’

  Only a sally could have prevented the steady increase of the heap of wooden debris, and had they attempted it they would have been torn to pieces. With growing apprehension, they looked on as the pile steadily grew higher. Twenty minutes later the Duke’s foreboding proved right. The Tamils set the heap alight.

  There was no means of putting the blaze out, and the green branches that had been mixed with the old wood gave off a dense smoke. The inmates of the cave began to cough and splutter. Their only remedy was to retreat further into the low tunnel. Even there the smoke penetrated, making their eyes water and rasping their lungs. It would not have been quite so bad had they had a little water in which to soak torn-off parts of garments to cover their mouths and nostrils, but they could only hold their hands over their faces while retreating still further into the airless cave, fearing as they did so that in the darkness they might stumble headlong down a mine shaft.

  Suddenly there was a roar like thunder. The earth shook, small pieces of shale rattled down from the roof of the cave, a searing blast of hot air struck them and they were thrown to the ground.

  Richard was the first to pick himself up. Groping through the darkness he located de Richleau and found, to his great relief, that the old Duke was badly shaken but not seriously injured.

  ‘What happened?’ gasped Fleur. ‘That terrific explosion and blinding flash at the end of the tunnel. Surely they can’t have bombs to throw in at us?’

  ‘No,’ Richard told her. ‘There must have been some explosives for blasting in one of those boxes. The intense heat would have set it off. Anyway, it must have taught those swine a lesson.’

  For a while the acrid fumes of the explosive made it impossible to advance but, when they could do so without being seized by violent fits of coughing, they cautiously made their way back to the entrance to the cave. Their barricade had been blown to smithereens. Only a few charred sticks of it remained. Outside a dozen black bodies, their rags burnt away by the flash, lay dead with grotesquely twisted limbs, or were writhing in agony. With wails of lamentation other Tamils were returning to carry away those who still lived. Ten minutes later, apart from dead bodies, the rock shelf outside was empty.

  Soon afterwards Richard went out to make a brief reconnaissance. The plank by which they had retreated was now at the bottom of the gully, and too far down to be recoverable. At either end of their side of the valley sheer cliffs made exit from it impossible, except to a skilled climber. The only other way out was by the bridge that led direct to the village and there the Tamils were congregated, making a hideous din as they mourned their dead.

  When Richard returned, he shook his head dolefully. ‘I’m afraid there’s no way out. We’re trapped here.’

  ‘Help must reach us soon,’ Marie Lou declared optimistically. ‘Although those wretched cowards deserted us, they must know we’d be attacked and will at least have telephoned the nearest police station.’

  ‘I don’t suppose there is one nearer than Ratnapura,’ Fleur said gloomily, ‘and it would take hours for the police to get here.’

  ‘Even if they are on their way,’ Richard added with a bitter laugh. ‘It’s my opinion that old d’Azavedo deliberately planned this pretty little party.’

&n
bsp; ‘What?’ Marie Lou’s big violet eyes opened to their fullest extent. ‘You can’t mean that he left us hoping we’d be murdered?’

  ‘Not you and me and Fleur, darling. We were just expendables and he didn’t give a fig whether we lived or died. It was Greyeyes that he wanted his Tamils to do in. Anyway, I lay long odds that that was the big idea.’

  ‘You mean to scotch the claim to this property?’ Fleur said slowly. ‘But if he had, someone else would have inherited it under Greyeyes’s will.’

  ‘No doubt,’ her father replied. ‘But as things are at the moment the claim is not a very sound one; so an heir might not feel inclined to risk his money fighting it.’

  ‘I think Richard is right,’ put in the Duke. ‘At least with me out of the way there would have been a long delay before my heirs brought a case against him; and they might well have decided that he was not worth powder and shot. I think, too, that several things point to this having been an attempt to rid himself of me. He must have been aware that his Tamils were already in a state of unrest. In fact the reason he gave for pulling up and asking us to get out of the car was that he would have to be a bit sharp with them and they might react unpleasantly. What he said to them I don’t know, but I gained the impression that instead of trying to reason with them he gave them deliberate provocation. Before that, even, he had turned his car round in readiness to make a quick getaway. That shows that he expected them to become violent. Then when they made a rush for him and he drove off he had an ample lead to have slowed down and pick us up. But he shot past without even giving us a glance.’

  ‘It all adds up,’ agreed Richard. ‘So does the way that rotten little blighter Lalita behaved. He wouldn’t have stopped his car on the hill-top if he hadn’t known what was going to happen. When the outbreak started he had ample time to run down the hill and you could have clambered into his car while the Tamils were still a couple of hundred yards off. But not a bit of it. The moment they began to shout at his father he started to turn his car about. I had to slog him one in order to pull him up so that I could get out. He was just waiting there for the balloon to go up, and he’s in this damnable plot up to the neck.’