‘No,’ replied de Richleau. ‘I’m keeping them as a small remuneration for their having very nearly cost me my life.’
Again Lalita shrugged. ‘Then you behave very foolish and ask for much trouble. How you get stones, eh? Not as payment for mine. Contract I scrap. Come. You hand over or I go to police. Charge you as thief and you go to prison.’
‘Not so fast,’ Simon put in. ‘There’s the other copy of the contract. The one that’s with the jewels. Tear yours up if you like; but you can’t wriggle out of the deal that way. His Grace’s copy is all that’s needed to prove it took place.’
For a moment Lalita appeared to be nonplussed; then his dark face took on a sly look. ‘Witnesses who sign blanks are my men; very reliable. You produce contract, I say witnesses who are they? Describe please. Duke has never seen, so cannot. Then I say, he get hold of these men’s names and for bad ends forge them. Police send for men, very reliable. They say as I tell them. These writing very like ours, but not. Never seen contract, never seen Duke. These forgeries.’
Douglas gave de Richleau an unhappy look. ‘I’m afraid we are up against it, sir. I don’t doubt he’s got a score of men under him who’d swear to anything he told them to. We know the jewels are yours by rights, but we can’t possibly prove it; so if you go off with them——’
‘Neither can he prove that I took them,’ the Duke cut in sharply. ‘Nor that any of us have ever been here tonight. He dare not go to the police at all without risking the part he played in the conspiracy to murder me coming to light. No, I have the jewels and I mean to keep them.’
Turning to Lalita, he added:
‘Moreover, should you attempt to make use of the contract your father extorted from me, I warn you I shall contest it; and I’ve good reason to believe that the case will go in my favour. You may count yourself lucky that I’m not bringing a charge against you for kidnapping. And now, since there is nothing else to discuss, we will be going.’
Simon had been holding Lalita’s automatic at the ready ever since he had secured it. Now, he thrust it into his trouser top and, together with the Duke and Douglas, turned towards the front door.
At that moment a woman’s voice came from behind them, ‘One moment. I’ve got you covered. Stay where you are and put hands up.’
Taken entirely by surprise, all three of them halted in their tracks as though momentarily frozen. Then they slowly raised their hands and looked over their shoulders. The velvet curtains near which Lalita was standing had parted and between them stood a tall, good-looking woman in a blue and gold sari. She was pointing a small, nickel-plated revolver at them. De Richleau recognised her immediately as the coffee-coloured beauty with the widely spaced eyes who, when he had been up at Olenevka, had played the part of housekeeper, and whom he had believed to be Ukwatte’s mistress—Mirabelle de Mendoza.
She spoke swiftly to Lalita, ‘Get their guns. They snatch your gun so quick, too late for me to come to your help then. And after, I not risk to show myself while the Jewish one had your own pistol pointing at you. But now we’ve got them; and I have much to tell you.’
Lalita gave a cry of triumph. ‘Mirabelle! Oh, blessings! Now I have witness that they try to rob me. One moment only while I get the stones back; also my pistol.
‘O.K., ma belle!’ he went on gleefully, as he stepped forward, relieved Douglas of his revolver and stuck it in his belt. Then he took his own automatic from Simon and, keeping it in his right hand, pulled the jewel case out of de Richleau’s pocket with the other. Glancing at Mirabelle, he said, ‘What now? What have you to tell me?’
Instead of answering him she addressed the others. ‘You may put your hands down now. Turn round and all go into sitting room. I have been standing behind this curtain long time, and I wish to sit down.’
As they obeyed her and filed past Lalita into the room, de Richleau gave her an uneasy glance. He had a shrewd suspicion about what she might be going to tell Lalita and, if he were right, a new and extremely dangerous situation would result. One of Simon’s favourite phrases came into his mind: ‘We’re going to be in a muddle; a really nasty muddle.’
Lalita, gesturing with his automatic, lined up his captives at the far end of the room. With the slinky walk that de Richleau well remembered, the lady swayed gracefully to the armchair in which Simon had found the Duke, sat down and relaxed. As Lalita had them covered, she laid her small revolver down on the lower shelf of the small table on which stood the telephone, then helped herself to a cigarette from a box that also stood on it. After taking a few puffs she said in a lazy voice:
‘These people tell you lies, Lalita. Poor Ukwatte did not die through accident. He told me to go to bed soon after ten o’clock, and stay there. As always, I obey him. I ask no questions and soon I am asleep. My room, you know, is above that in which Ukwatte have put his cobra. Presently I awake. I hear sounds of breaking in below me. I think, whatever Ukwatte intend to do this is not part of it. I get up, put on my sari, get my little gun from the drawer and come downstairs to find out what happens.
‘From behind the curtain I hear voices, but not that of Ukwatte. Also they speak in English. I strain the ears to listen and I hear what they say. I learn with shock that Ukwatte has been bitten by the cobra; that he is dead. I was, you know, quite fond of your father.’
Mirabelle paused a moment, then her rich lips parted in a smile and she went on, ‘Do not mistake me. I had not love for him as I have for you. But I am much upset. I listen then still more intently with hope to hear how this accident happens and why these men break into our house. They are talking of your father’s death. The Sinhalese gentleman—it must have been him from sound of his voice—he wishes to call for the police. But the others would not let him. The old man—he is the great English Lord, you remember, who come to Olenevka—he said, “No, if the police come they will find out that I killed him.”’
‘What you say?’ Lalita exclaimed. ‘This cannot be. He is so old; very feeble. He has not the strength.’
‘It was not in a fight. He is a clever one, and dangerous; a bhikkhu with mystic powers. For your father he prepared a cunning trap. This is what he tell his friends. Ukwatte left him with the cobra. He charmed it into sleep. Then he lays down and make sham that he is dead. When Ukwatte return to take away his body he rouse up, strike him violent blow on neck, push him onto the snake and run from the room. The blow have leave a bruise that will betray him. That is why he says “We must not have police here. If we do I shall be charge with murder.”’
Lalita’s dark face glowed with excitement. His voice came in a trembling whisper of unalloyed triumph. ‘Murder! Murder! And you have heard him admit.’
Mirabelle nodded. ‘The bruise will give proof of it.’ She stretched out a hand to the telephone. ‘I will get the police.’
‘Wait, madame!’ cried the Duke. ‘Wait, or you may regret it. Things will not go as smoothly as you think. You said just now that you loved Lalita d’Azavedo. His father tried to murder me. Lalita too was in the plot. I shall plead self-defence and, whether I am judged guilty or not, he will not escape. You will be condemning the man you love to several years in prison.’
‘That is true,’ Douglas added quickly. ‘If you bring the police here they will make a full inquiry. They will take statements from Mr. Aron and myself. How did we come to be here? We came because we had reason to believe that His Grace was here and being held against his will. Why did he come here? We can produce his copy of the contract and will state that he was forced to sign it under duress. The telephone call by which he was lured from his hotel can perhaps be traced. Who brought him? An Indian driver who cannot be found. Where was Lalita d’Azavedo between half past ten and half past eleven tonight? Has he an alibi? How did His Grace get into the room with the cobra? No! The whole thing reeks of conspiracy. Unless you wish to see your friend condemned for complicity in attempted murder you dare not call the police.’
Faced with this potent argument, Mirabelle’s f
orehead creased in an anxious frown; but Lalita’s eyes were glowing with an almost insane hatred, and he snarled, ‘These are all supposings. I am not fool. The telephone call to hotel will not be trace; I make from box. And I have alibi. How Duke got here no matter. Motive quite clear. He come here to steal stones shown him on Friday. Then surprise by my father and murder him. Also I have influence; much influence. I am Colonel of Security Police. People believes me, not you.’
‘No,’ Simon countered. ‘In some things, perhaps; but not all. Too much mud for some of it not to stick.’
‘Then I take risk. Odds all with me. I not give up chance to avenge my father.’
De Richleau needed no telling that he was in one of the worst corners that he had ever been in in his long and adventurous life. Mirabelle had overheard even more than he had thought likely of his conversation with Simon and Douglas, and as she had told her story his fears for himself had steadily mounted. Feeling confident that, if it came to a trial, he could show himself to have been trapped by a plot, he did not believe that he would be convicted of murder; but he might be of manslaughter. Even if he got off altogether, to have to face such a trial was an ordeal to be dreaded, particularly at his age. In consequence, while he was still determined to do his utmost to get the better of Lalita, he felt that it would be wiser to throw ‘a sop to Cerberus’ rather than to leave him minded to seek revenge whatever the risk to himself. So he said:
‘If you have me brought to trial it is quite possible that I shall be found “not guilty”. And you may be certain that I shall leave nothing undone to prove that you planned my murder. For such a gamble do you really think it worth the risk that you may ruin your career and instead become a convict? Cannot we reach a compromise? What if I agreed to make you some compensation for your father’s death?’
The fury drained from Lalita’s eyes and cupidity took its place. Slowly he nodded. ‘You buy me off? Give blood-money like ancient custom, eh?’
Simon, also realising the great danger in which de Richleau now stood, nodded vigorously. ‘Um. Much the best way to settle this.’ Then, knowing that the Duke set no great store by retaining the mine, he added, ‘How about your claiming Olenevka and His Grace refraining from revealing that the contract was extorted from him?’
The Duke made no comment on this suggestion. He had been prepared to part with a few thousand pounds as the price of getting out of his dangerous situation; but for a reason he could not disclose at the moment it would have suited him much better if Lalita, excited and overwrought as he still was by his father’s death, failed to spot the snag in Simon’s offer and accepted it.
But in that he was to be disappointed. A sudden frown again crossed Lalita’s sloping forehead, and he exclaimed, ‘But no! Is not good for me. To make contract valid I must give stones. More, much more than Olenevka is worth. You try to make fool of me. Not’ings doing. We leave stones out of this.’
After taking the jewels from the Duke, Lalita had laid the case down on the table and, had he fallen into the trap, de Richleau had not intended to draw his attention to it by attempting to walk off with the jewels there and then; but he would have been able to sue Lalita for their return, with a good hope of getting them back later. Now, he could only protest:
‘They are my property. You have admitted that you and your father withheld them by a criminal act.’
Lalita shook his head. ‘No matter. Possession they say nine points of law. Use contract and give you right to them, not likely. You find some way I have Olenevka as blood-money, no strings attached. If not I call police.’
They seemed to have reached an impasse; but Douglas, now convinced that for the Duke to allow himself to be charged might have most terrible results, stepped into the breach with a suggestion, ‘I think that could be arranged. His Grace could make Olenevka over to you by a Deed of Gift.’
Simon was equally anxious to see the Duke out of it, whatever the cost. Eagerly he nodded, ‘Um. Good idea. Very good idea.’
‘Maybe yes; maybe no.’ Lalita’s eyes narrowed. ‘People’s not make big gift without good reason. Father, relative, rich patron, yes. But Duke not like this to me. Without good reason perhaps he repudiate later.’
Douglas shook his head. ‘In law a deed is a deed. No motive is required for it, and it could not be repudiated afterwards.’
‘I am not lawyer. In you why should I trust? No fear. We do this, yes. But only with good reason, to make all seem right.’
The Duke gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘As soon raise your father from the dead as find a good reason why I should present you with a fortune. You can go to hell.’
De Richleau’s apparent blindness to his peril filled Simon and Douglas with the utmost perturbation. Both of them racked their brains in vain for some means of meeting Lalita’s demand. While tense moments drifted by the silence could be felt.
Then Mirabelle, who had been following the conversation with lazy interest, said quietly, ‘It was the will that start all these troubles. The English Lord say it was forged. He goes to the law and wins; so we are turn out. But perhaps he was wrong from beginning. Say he finds out that he make terrible mistake. Great injustice done d’Azavedo family. As honest man he wish to put right.’
‘Um,’ Simon acclaimed her idea enthusiastically. ‘Lady’s got something there.’
Douglas, too, seized on it eagerly and turned to Lalita. ‘Yes. His Grace could send a letter to that effect to the papers and that would put you in the clear. There ought to be some mention in it, though, about where this new evidence has come from that the will was not a forgery.
After thinking for a minute Lalita said, ‘That I provide. To the will there was two witnesses: Pedro Fernando and wife Vinala. He is dead, she disappear. Not heard of since. She long time make home in some jungle village, I expect, under other name. Never come back from fear of trouble. You say she writes letter telling she now dying. No address but just telling that Pedro was liar. Will not forged but all proper.’
Simon and Douglas both sighed with relief. ‘That would do,’ said the latter. ‘Couldn’t be better. Now if you have some paper I will draft the Deed of Gift and His Grace will sign it.’
‘No,’ declared the Duke firmly. ‘I will not. That is unless the jewels are returned to me. I will give up either the estate or the jewels to make an end of this business. But I’m damned if I’ll let this rogue get away with both.’
Lalita rounded on him furiously. ‘It was you who first suggest give me blood-money. What then? You leads up garden path by let your friends talk, talk, talk. Arguments no more. I will not have. Rajapakse writes Deed of Gift. Now at once. You sign, and your friends witness. This you do or I send for police.’
‘Now wait a minute,’ Simon said urgently, grasping de Richleau by the arm. ‘He’s got us. You must let Douglas draw the deed and put your signature to it. No other way out.’
‘Oh yes there is,’ the Duke retorted. ‘Let him call the police and I’ll face the music. He’s in this thing up to the neck and he knows it. I’m going to call his bluff.’
‘You daren’t! You’re crazy. If he isn’t bluffing you wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘I don’t agree,’ de Richleau turned to Douglas. ‘You are my legal adviser. What is your opinion?’
Douglas gave him an unhappy look. ‘The charge would be manslaughter, not murder. If the circumstances were normal I think we’d get you off. But they are not. Public sympathy would be with him, because he is Sinhalese, and he has a lot of pull. So you would be taking a big risk. As far as he is concerned I have no doubt at all that we could get him a heavy sentence for conspiracy. But that wouldn’t do you any good if a verdict of manslaughter were given against you.’
Simon’s eyes were flickering wildly. ‘That’s just it. Of course you’d like to land him in the bin; but to do it would mean cutting off your nose to spite your face. Besides, you can’t have realised what you’d be letting yourself in for. Once you’re charged they’ll put you in pr
ison. Perhaps Douglas could get you bailed, but perhaps not. Anyhow, even a night or two could prove too much for you. At your age you couldn’t stand up to being in gaol. Not even an English one, let alone one here in Ceylon. To go through with this would be signing your own death warrant.’
De Richleau had already thought of that and had no intention of letting himself be taken off to prison. But he had been a fighter all his life and he still believed that, if he maintained his bluff, Lalita would give in rather than go to law and risk a conviction for conspiracy. Shaking off Simon’s hand, he said to Lalita:
‘I agree that we have talked long enough, and apparently we have one thing in common. Neither of us is concerned about his future. Since you are determined to ruin your life, as I have nothing to look forward to I am quite willing to gamble mine. Go ahead and call in the police.’
For a long moment Lalita hesitated, then he took a step towards the telephone.
‘Stop!’ cried Simon. ‘I’ll not let this happen. You want blood-money. You shall have it. Instead of your getting Olenevka I’ll pay you five thousand pounds.’
Lalita turned and stared at him. ‘You mean this?’
‘Um.’
‘You pay ten.’
‘Ner.’ Simon shook his head. ‘Would if I’d got it,’ he lied. ‘But I haven’t. Five thousand. Good night’s work for you. Jewels still yours as well and you’re out of trouble. Better than going through with this and finding yourself in prison.’
‘You pay me now?’
‘Um. Haven’t got a cheque book on me. But give me a piece of paper and I’ll write you an I O U. Rajapakse will witness it and I’ll redeem it tomorrow.’
‘O.K.,’ said Lalita. ‘I take offer.’ Then he walked over to an oak desk on the other side of the room.
‘Really, my dear Simon, I cannot allow you to do this,’ de Richleau protested vigorously. ‘I’m certain that the fellow is only bluffing.’
Dangerous Inheritance Page 19