The Scarlet Impostor

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘What nonsense!’ She seemed to be half-annoyed, half-amused. ‘You’ve only had one glimpse of my face! Do you tell every pretty girl you meet that you want to kiss her?’

  ‘Certainly not!’ Gregory protested. ‘But you’re different. There’s something about you, I don’t know what it is, but somehow it got me right away.’

  During his hectic career he had used the same formula, practically word for word, with at least a couple of score of good-looking young women. It was a safe bet, never failing to produce a suitable reaction. The only way in which the response of the present lady varied from those of most of her forerunners was that, instead of pretending to joke about it while half-believing that he really meant it, or accepting the statement with happy wonder, this young woman took it quite seriously and as her legitimate tribute.

  ‘I’m sorry you feel like that about me,’ she said, ‘but I can quite understand it. I seem to have that effect on most of the men I meet; and I am different from most girls of my age. It probably sounds extremely conceited, but I’m old enough to have proved to myself that I am blessed with brains and personality as well as looks.’

  ‘It does sound extremely conceited,’ Gregory agreed, ‘but the combination is extraordinarily rare and damnably attractive. I imagine that you also possess determination. Once you’ve really made up your mind about a thing you never alter it, do you?’

  ‘No. I may not look it, but I’ve got quite a lot of the male in my make-up. I’m not one of those poor, weak creatures who constantly have to claim the feminine privilege of changing their minds.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Gregory, and as the car swung round a bend he gave a swift wriggle. At the same instant he grabbed her hand, so that her pistol no longer pointed at his ribs, but was forced down behind him towards the back of the car.

  ‘That,’ he added, a second later, ‘is why, my lovely and determined friend, you compelled me to risk my life in order to change your mind for you. I’d loathe to hurt that nice little wrist of yours, but by God I’m going to unless you drop that gun.’

  His movement had been so sudden that it had caught her off her guard. For an instant he felt the tautening of the muscles in her wrist, and feared that she would pull the trigger before he could compel her to drop the pistol, but the muscles slackened almost at once, and for fear that it might go off as it fell, he quickly grasped the Mauser with his other hand, and drew it from between her fingers.

  She relaxed with a faint sigh. ‘It was the darkness that proved your friend that time, wasn’t it? You’d never have caught me out like that if there’d been a light. I was a fool to amuse myself by letting you talk; I’d certainly have shot you at your first movement if you hadn’t distracted my attention, and if it hadn’t been too dark to see you.’

  ‘Perhaps the darkness will prove a friend to both of us before we’re through,’ suggested Gregory amiably, ‘but if it’s any consolation to you, much older hands than you have been led up the garden path before now through over-indulgence in conversation with your humble servant.’

  As he was speaking he ran his hands over the miniature automatic and found that the safety-catch was off, so evidently she had not been bluffing, but had genuinely meant to send him to kingdom come. He made a wry grimace in the darkness as he thought of the risk he had just taken. He must have been nearer death at that moment than he had been when exchanging shots with the Nazis on the roof of Wachmuller’s house, but his respect for the girl went up. Even to contemplate shooting a man took a lot of courage. She must be a real tough egg. But Gregory was a tough egg himself, and he always rejoiced to find similar qualities in others.

  ‘And now that you’re master of the situation may one inquire your intentions?’ she asked quietly.

  ‘Certainly. Should you be so indiscreet as to call out to your chauffeur or to pop your beautiful head out of the window in an effort to attract the attention of anyone we may pass it’s my intention to fill you full of lead with your own gun. Please don’t think I’m joking, either. I’ve already told you that I’m a desperate man. You know very well that if your friends catch me they’ll shoot me, and I’ve no desire to quit this so-called vale of tears just yet if I can possibly avoid it. Have I made myself perfectly clear?’

  ‘Perfectly, thank you.’

  ‘That’s a good thing, because if you had any lingering doubts they might land you to-morrow in a nasty wooden box which would be lowered down a hole in the graveyard. Just keep that thought firmly in your mind, and I think we shall remain very good friends. It’d be a sin to rob the world of beauty such as yours, but I’m a professional sinner, and I’ll shoot you as dead as cat’s meat if you don’t do exactly as I tell you. To start with you will remove your shoes and stockings.’

  ‘Donnerwetter!’ she exclaimed, suddenly stiffening. ‘Have you gone mad?’

  ‘I’m no crazier than the proverbial Englishman. Kindly do as I say.’

  ‘But this, it is not—well, how shall I say—in the picture. No! I refuse. I will not half strip myself for your amusement.’

  ‘Dear, dear! What a fuss to make about removing a pair of stockings! If only you knew the number of lovely legs that I’ve seen with nothing on in my time! And in any case, I shan’t be able to see yours in the darkness.’

  ‘No,’ she retorted, with abrupt frankness, ‘but you’d be able to feel them afterwards, wouldn’t you? And I will not play.’

  ‘Just at this moment I’m not in a playing mood myself, so you need have no fears on that score. If you were as old as Methuselah, and twice as ugly I’d still want you to take your stockings off, so for God’s sake get on with it.’

  ‘In that case, it seems an extraordinary request. I really think you must be a little crazy.’

  ‘I’m not crazy, I tell you! Now, are you going to take those stockings off, or must I take them off for you?’

  ‘No,’ she said hastily. ‘I’ll do it, and if you dare to touch me I’ll scream whether you mean to shoot me or not.’

  Bending forward she kicked off her shoes, undid her suspenders, rolled down her stockings, and pulled them off.

  ‘And now what?’ she demanded angrily.

  ‘Now pass your stockings over and listen to me. I’m going to tie your feet up. To do that I’ll have to lean down, so I shan’t be able to keep you covered with my gun. But I’m very much stronger than you are, and if you start any funny business while I’m tying up your feet you won’t find dinner invitations come quite so frequently in future because I’ll bash that nice nose of yours bang through the middle of your face. Get the idea?’

  ‘So that’s what you wanted my stockings for! Why on earth didn’t you say so? Go on, tie me up, then. I value my nose very highly, and I’m certainly not going to risk it in an encounter with a brute like you.’

  ‘Easy, now, easy!’ he protested. ‘All’s fair in love and war. you know, and this seems to be a delightful combination of the two—at least, I’d like it to be that way. I haven’t called you any hard names, so why should you start abusing me? You know quite well that I won’t hurt a hair of your lovely head if you don’t force me to by doing something stupid.’

  The safety-catch of her gun had been on for some minutes. Slipping it into his pocket he knelt down and lifted one of her feet. Gently pulling one of her toes he began: ‘This little pig went to market; this little pig stayed at home….’

  ‘Don’t!’ she cried, jerking away her foot. ‘You tickle!’ Then she laughed. ‘You are an absurd person, really.’

  ‘Not half as absurd as I would have been if I’d let you hand me over to a firing squad. D’you mind giving me back your feet?’

  She stretched them out again, and he used one of the thin, silk stockings to tie her ankles firmly together. Then he put her shoes on again, so that her feet would not get cold in the draught, and raising them slightly he kissed the little pads of soft flesh on her insteps, first one and then the other.

  She made no comment on this gallant gesture,
so he sat back on the seat and said: ‘Hands now, please. If I were a real ruffian I’d tie them behind your back, but that would be very uncomfortable for you, and, although, I’m taking no chances, I don’t think it’s strictly necessary.’

  Holding out her hands until they touched his in the darkness she said: ‘You’re really a sort of Claude Duval among secret agents, aren’t you? And to give you your due I find it very difficult to think of you as a ruffian at all.’

  ‘Now, that’s charming of you,’ he murmured as he tied her wrists tightly with the other stocking. ‘Quite the nicest thing you’ve said for some time. D’you know what they put on the gallant highwayman’s tombstone?

  ‘Here lies Duval: Reader, if male thou art

  Look to thy purse: if female, to thy heart.

  ‘You encourage me to hope that we’ll pull off that luncheon together at the Ritz yet, when the war’s over.’

  ‘Don’t you be too certain, my friend. You’re still in Germany, and to judge from what was happening in Coblenz every policeman in the whole of the Rhineland is on the lookout for you. The odds are a hundred to one that the Gestapo will get you within the next couple of days, and when they do—well, I don’t quite know now whether I shall be glad or sorry.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning, but I pity the poor devil who has the job of trying to arrest me, unless he catches me asleep. Now, to my deep regret, I must temporarily terminate this delightful conversation by tying my handkerchief over your mouth.’

  ‘Ach Himmel!’ she exclaimed. ‘Are you going to gag me as well? Is that really necessary if I give you my word that I won’t shout?’

  ‘I’m afraid it is, but if you’ll promise not to shout I’ll leave the handkerchief quite loose so that you could if you wanted to. You see, I have to transact a little necessary business, and part of it demands that you should at least appear to be gagged.’

  ‘All right, then, go ahead. I do hope your handkerchief is clean.’

  ‘Fairly so, and there doesn’t seem to be anything else handy that I could use. I’d like it to be my handkerchief, too, because then it might collect a little of that delightful scent you use. In any case I shall treasure it for ever afterwards on account of its once having been in contact wtih so lovely a mouth.’

  ‘You are a fool!’ she muttered, as he adjusted the handkerchief and tied it firmly but not too tightly behind her golden curls.

  Having dealt with her fairly and satisfactorily his next concern was with the chauffeur, who all this time had naturally been keeping his eyes fixed on the unlit road ahead which was extremely difficult to follow. Even had he chanced to glance into the windscreen mirror which normally showed him the interior of the car as well as the road behind him he could have seen nothing owing to the lack of lights.

  Gregory’s plan was already fully worked out in his mind and to begin with he sat down on the floor of the car with his back to the driver. Next he unlatched the near-side door with his left hand, holding it firmly so that the wind would not wrench it open as the car sped along, while with his right he drew his own heavy pistol and reversed it, clutching it firmly by the barrel. Then, bringing up his arm abruptly, he smashed the butt of the pistol with all his strength against the glass partition above his head, which was just behind the driver.

  It was a risky procedure as the shock and the flying glass might have caused the driver to lose control of the car, which would have resulted in a nasty smash; but they were running along a straight piece of road and keeping right down to a steady twenty-five miles an hour on account of the black-out. In any case, the risk had to be taken.

  The car swerved violently as the heavy pistol crashed through the glass, but the driver soon had it under control again, steered it to the side of the road, jammed on his brakes and brought it to a halt.

  Just as it swerved Gregory let the near-side door fly open and grabbing the handle of the off-side door opened that too, but only a crack, and continued to hold on to it. The instant the car had stopped he pushed the off-side door open, slipped noiselessly out on to the road and gently closed it behind him. He intended the man to think, on finding the near-side door hanging open, that the passenger whom they had picked up was now some distance back along the road, having attacked the girl and afterwards leaped out of the car while it was still moving.

  To have faked things so that they gave that appearance, yet to have succeeded in getting out of the car and keeping near it without having risked his neck, had been a tricky business depending upon perfect timing. In the ordinary way Gregory could never have accomplished it, but once more the darkness had proved his friend.

  As he had calculated, immediately the car came to a standstill the chauffeur turned, called out to ask what had happened, and receiving no reply jumped down from his seat. Thrusting his head through the open, near-side doorway of the car he asked what was wrong.

  The moment the man had got out Gregory tiptoed swiftly round the back of the car, still clutching his pistol by the barrel. The chauffeur had just discovered that the dishevelled General to whom they had given a lift had disappeared, leaving the lady bound and gagged, and was reaching up to take the gag from her mouth when Gregory arrived behind him. Gregory waited for him to take it off and drew back a little; then he lifted his pistol and with a savage sideways swipe brought the butt thudding against the base of the chauffeur’s skull just below his forage cap.

  The man staggered, raised one hand to grab the side of the car, missed it, took a couple of unsteady steps backwards and collapsed in the roadway.

  Gregory knew that it would be quite unnecessary to hit him a second time. As the man rolled over with a moan he put his head inside the car and said to the girl: ‘I’m terribly sorry that I’ve had to lay out your chauffeur, but I want his clothes, you see.’

  ‘I had an idea that that might be the case sooner or later,’ she remarked coolly. ‘I hope you haven’t killed him, though, Johannes is a little stupid at times, but a very nice fellow.’

  ‘Don’t worry; he’ll be all right after a few days in hospital. Our agreement about your not shouting still stands, doesn’t it? Otherwise I’ll have to replace that gag he untied for you, and tighten it up into the bargain.’

  ‘Yes. That stands, since you’ve still got the whip-hand of me, but don’t be longer than you can help over changing. My legs are getting cold.’

  ‘Right; I’ll soon get through with it.’ He closed the door and, stooping, began to undress the unconscious soldier.

  Johannes was considerably shorter than Gregory so his clothes were by no means a good fit, but that is not unusual in armies where a private must not only wear ready-mades, but take the best he can get if the Quartermaster has not got the right size.

  Having stripped to his underclothes and buttoned himself into Johannes’ uniform, Gregory pushed, pulled and shoved the limbs of the unconscious man until he had got him into the General’s kit. Then, turning him over on his face in the road, he tied his hands behind his back with his braces and secured his ankles with a woollen muffler he had been wearing; after which he again opened the door of the car and with a cry of ‘Mind your feet!’ slung the unfortunate Johannes inside.

  Leaning in, he arranged the unconscious man more comfortably and added: ‘I’m sorry to inflict his body on you, but you can use it as a foot-stool. I’m sorry, too, that we shan’t be able to continue our little talk for a bit, as I now have to drive the car to our destination.’

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh—Cologne,’ he answered casually. ‘I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you more than was strictly necessary. I imagine that we’ve still got another twenty miles to go, so if I were you I’d have a short nap.’ The fact was that he did not feel that he dared risk attempting to cross the Cologne bridge with the car as there was a strong possibility that the police were examining all traffic there; so he had already decided to abandon the car outside Cologne and from there seek other means of reaching the fronti
er.

  With Gregory in the driver’s seat the car started off again. He drove very carefully, keeping to the same unhurried pace that Johannes had maintained. It was only about a quarter past one so there remained several hours of darkness, and although he had much to do before daylight came he had no intention of risking an accident which would almost certainly land him in another mess.

  The big Mercèdes ran smoothly on until, half an hour later, the first houses of Bonn loomed up out of the black night; upon which Gregory halted the car, got out and opened the door again.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but I’m afraid I’ve got to gag you properly now. We might be challenged by a patrol in the town. Johannes’ papers should enable me to get through all right, but as my life literally depends upon it I can’t trust even so charming a person as yourself not to forget your promise, quite inadvertently, and give me away.’

  She shrugged. ‘All right. I don’t blame you; although actually I have the old-fashioned habit of keeping my word when I make promises like that.’

  ‘You make me feel an awful beast,’ he said softly as he climbed over Johannes’ body and leaned across her. ‘I have that quaint, old-fashioned habit, too. Will you believe me when I say that I would trust you, if it was only my own life that hung in the balance? But it’s my job to get home if I can and make my report. Even the fact of knowing that I’ve had to quit Germany will enable my superiors to put someone much cleverer than myself on a job that may save the lives of countless other people.’

  ‘Yes; I believe you.’ She tilted up her chin, offering her mouth, and Gregory, who could just see the outline of her face in the gloom, was devilishly tempted to kiss her. He knew, however, that she had held up her face merely so that he might apply the gag, and this time he tied it firmly behind her head.

  His precaution proved to be unnecessary, as the car rolled slowly through Bonn without incident. Since they now had no great distance to go he did not stop on the far side of the town, but put on as much speed as he dared so that his beautiful passenger should not be inconvenienced by the gag for longer than he could help.