The Ka of Gifford Hillary

by Dennis Wheatley

  ‘Then there is the question of the strictly nautical—cruisers, destroyers, and so on. I’ll admit that they have a certain use in a cold war, for showing the flag in foreign ports; but if we spent the cost of their upkeep in radio programmes for the Arab and Asiatic nations, aimed at countering Soviet propaganda, we would get infinitely better value for our money.’

  ‘So you would have us hand the seas over to the Russians without firing a shot?’ Sue challenged him.

  ‘No,’ he replied promptly. ‘But if the thing lasted long enough for there to be any sea war at all our shots should come from aircraft and guided missile sites. Even in the last war the big ships hardly dared to show their bows out from harbour from fear of being bombed or torpedoed from the air, and, if the Russians were fools enough to send their Fleet into the North Sea, sending it to the bottom would be a piece of cake.

  ‘I hate to disillusion you, Sue, but nine-tenths of the ships that the Navy has in commission are already as much out of date as Roman galleys would have been in Nelson’s time. As for the new types they are building, to my mind it is simply chucking money down the drain; because the only way we can now hope to cut our cloth according to our needs is to scrap all the most expensive weapons and methods of waging war which are unlikely to be brought into use during a brief, violent conflict dominated by the use of thermonuclear missiles. And, of course, the proposed reduction in personnel makes it more imperative than ever that every possible man should be allocated to the units which will have to do the fighting.’

  ‘Our sailors have always done their share, and more, of that.’ Sue protested, ‘so why pick on the Navy?’

  ‘Because it is now our least valuable arm,’ Johnny replied patiently. ‘Its ships cost enormous sums to build and maintain, and it ties up a higher percentage of technicians than either of the other Services. Thermo-nuclear development must be maintained and increased if possible. The Army cannot be cut much further owing to our commitments on the Continent and overseas. The brunt of any future war must be borne by the R.A.F. So what have we left? Only the Navy, and it is a luxury we can no longer afford.’

  ‘I don’t agree. Daddy says the Fleet Carriers now form our first line of battle; and that as there can be no guarantee about it being a short war it is absolutely vital that we should keep on building more and better small ships for convoy protection.’

  ‘I know all that, darling; I’ve heard it argued a thousand times, but what it comes down to is a question of priorities; and can you honestly say that your father is in a position to judge such matters?’

  ‘Of course he is; he would never have reached such high rank otherwise, and with all his years of service he must know far more about these problems than you do.’

  ‘Now listen, Sue. Everyone knows that your father was a fine sailor, and I have a great admiration for him as a man; but he has been out of the Service for several years. In these days new developments occur with terrifying swiftness. The atom has entirely changed all our conceptions of warfare. Only a very limited number of people have the faintest idea of what is likely to happen if there is a blow-up. By pure chance I am one of them, whereas your father has long since ceased to have access to Top Secret matters. You must admit that’s true.’

  ‘Yes,’ Sue agreed, ‘I suppose it is.’

  ‘Very well, then. In fairness to me you’ve got to keep your father’s views out of this. And even if he were right it doesn’t alter the situation. I’ve given you my word that I had no hand in Giff’s plot to sabotage the Navy; but it is my considered opinion, based on the very latest appreciations of what the next war will be like, that for the safety of our country the Navy must sacrifice itself and rest upon its past glories. That being so, it is my positive duty to throw any little weight that I may have into working towards what is called the New Look, which amounts to merging all three Services into one that has few, if any, ships.’

  For a moment Sue was silent, then she said: ‘I’d never try to come between you and your conscience, Johnny. Since you consider that your duty, that’s what you must do. All the same I feel this makes an awful breach between us.’

  ‘Oh come, darling!’ He reached out and took her hand. ‘Don’t think I don’t understand your feelings. You wouldn’t be you if you’d just taken it as a matter of course; and it was a piece of really bad luck for both of us that we should have been driven into discussing the issue at all. But since we’ve had to, I think you’ll agree now that your resentment has nothing personal in it, and is really the outcome of loyalty and affection for the things you have been brought up to admire.’

  Sue had not withdrawn her hand, and she nodded. ‘I suppose it is really.’

  ‘Then surely you’re not going to let sentiment for something impersonal weigh with you more than all we mean to one another? I’ve been nearly crazy with worry since we quarrelled. You do still love me, Sue, don’t you?’

  ‘Of—of course I do,’ she gulped, now very near to tears.

  ‘Oh my sweet, bless you for that! Don’t cry, darling. Please, please let’s forget all this and never say another word about it. Let’s think of nothing but one another and be wonderfully happy together as we were before.’

  In response she lifted her face and turned towards him. Next moment they were in each other’s arms.

  This happy outcome of their meeting took one load off my mind, and feeling that to linger there longer would be unwarrantable spying on them, I returned to the car to wait with as much patience as I could muster until Johnny should convey me back to Longshot.

  As I expected, the wait proved a lengthy one and it was made the less supportable by my no longer having anything to keep my mind off gloomy speculations about what might happen to Ankaret once Johnny had gone through my papers. The only hope for her now seemed to be in his deciding against handing her forgeries over to the police. If she refused to talk, without professional aid he would still be unable to prove that she had known anything about either of the murders until after they had been committed, and it did not seem to have occurred to him that she might have played an active part in them. It was therefore possible that, rather than expose the family to the scandal that her trial as an accessory would bring about, he might show her mercy. It was too, I could only suppose, some such line of reasoning which at the critical moment had determined her against putting an end to herself.

  At last the lovers, all unsuspicious of my presence, rejoined me, and we set off towards Sue’s home. Johnny pulled up on the corner from which he had collected her, and after a prolonged succession of good-night kisses they tore themselves apart. Humming cheerfully to himself now he headed the car south-east. As we ran onward I took no particular notice of the glow in the sky ahead; for I knew that it was caused by the escape jet of the huge oil refinery at Fawley, which can be seen for many miles around. But when we drew nearer to Longshot I saw that the glow was brighter over a spot that lay well to the west of Fawley and that it had an angry reddish tinge. After another mile the truth flashed upon me. My old home was on fire.

  Johnny realised it at the same moment. Jamming his foot down on the accelerator he proceeded to take risks on the corners that he would never normally have done. Fortunately the lodge gates were open and to the accompaniment of loud blasts of the horn the car shot through them. Half way up the drive we rounded a group of ancient trees and could see the house clearly. It was the east wing that was on fire and tongues of flame were leaping up from a gaping hole in its roof.

  Three fire engines were already on the spot and a fourth came clanging up behind us. Jumping from the car Johnny ran in through the front door, and I sped close behind him. Dead I might be, but I was still fond of the old place, and to my great relief I saw that the main building was still unaffected. As three fire engines were already in action it looked as if there would be a good chance of confining the fire to the bachelor wing, which contained only the extra spare bedrooms and the laboratory above them.

  Two big hoses
snaked through the hall, but there was no one in it; so Johnny ran out of the garden entrance to the terrace. To the left on the lawn below it a crowd was gathered: firemen, police, local people and most of the household. I could see now that the seat of the fire was about half way along the wing. The crowd was watching the hoses being played on it.

  After a few minutes Johnny found Bill. He was in his shirtsleeves and the grime on his face showed that he had been fire fighting. Struggling to get back his breath, Johnny gasped:

  ‘How did this happen? How did it start?’

  ‘God alone knows!’ Bill replied, mopping his soot-streaked brow. ‘I got back from old Frothy’s a little before eleven to find the ground floor well ablaze. Silvers and a few people from the farm across the fields were fighting the fire as well as they could with extinguishers and buckets. I took charge, of course, but there wasn’t much we could do. Fortunately Silvers had had the sense to telephone not only the local fire brigade but Southampton, Lymington and several other places round about.

  ‘You see, by the time he came on the scene the fire already had a good hold and he realised that it was not going to be easy to put out. We might have succeeded in localising the fire if it had been discovered earlier; but soon after I got here it penetrated to the upper floor, and I think the Professor must have had a lot of inflammable chemicals there. Anyhow, the whole middle of the wing had become a raging furnace before the firemen could get their first hose into action.’

  After looking about him for a few moments Johnny spotted Silvers, and moving over to him said, ‘I gather it was you who discovered the fire, Silvers. Have you any idea what caused it?’

  Silvers shook his grey head. ‘No, Sir. I’ve no idea at all; but it started in your bedroom. We do know that much. Perhaps you left a cigarette burning there, or something.’

  ‘I’m sure I didn’t,’ Johnny replied promptly. ‘Did you manage to get into the room before the fire spread?’

  ‘Oh no, Sir; the whole corridor was full of dense black smoke when I opened the door from the main hall that leads to the bedrooms; so I shut it again immediately. But young Belton, our chauffeur, did. It was he who discovered the fire, not me.

  ‘He’s courting young Ellen Sykes, over at the farm, and he was crossing the garden on his way back to his rooms over the stables when he noticed a red glow coming from the window of your bedroom. When he realised it was fire he ran up to the house and shouted for me, but as you and his Lordship were both out to dinner I had taken the opportunity to go down to the local. Getting no reply he ran back and finding the window open scrambled into the room. He did his best to put the fire out and burnt his hands quite badly; so they have taken him off to the Cottage Hospital.

  ‘When it proved too much for him he made a fresh effort to get help. Mildred had gone to bed but Mrs. Silvers was still up listening to the wireless. He sent her off to fetch the Sykes from the farm, then collapsed in our sitting room. Mr. Sykes and his boys got here only just before I did, and of course I telephoned the fire brigade at once. But all we could do by then was to try to keep the fire in check until they got here. It’s a terrible business, Sir, terrible. Still, I think there’s some hope now that they will save the main building.’

  ‘Where is Lady Ankaret?’ Johnny enquired.

  ‘I can’t say for certain, Sir. Mrs. Silvers went up and told her about the fire; so she came down and helped carry buckets of water out here to throw through the windows until the firemen got the first hose going. I haven’t seen her since. But she was wearing only a coat over her night-things, so I expect she will have gone in to put some more clothes on.’

  With a curt nod Johnny left Silvers and strode towards the garden entrance. In the hall a few wisps of smoke were curling up from under the door to the corridor, but there were no signs of immediate danger. After a hesitant glance at the stairway he turned and walked into the drawing-room. It was empty so he marched through it to my sanctum. Ankaret was sitting there alone, in an arm-chair. She had on a pair of slacks and a pull-over, and loosely draped over her shoulders her mink coat. Beside her on a small table stood a syphon and a bottle of brandy. In her right hand she held a glass, and the colour of the liquor in it showed her drink to be a stiff one.

  ‘Hello, Johnny!’ she greeted him with her Gioconda smile. ‘Come to save me from the flames?’

  ‘No.’ His voice was hard but level. ‘I came to ask you to whom I should apply for compensation for my bits and pieces that have by now gone up in smoke.’

  She shrugged. ‘To the insurance people, I suppose. I imagine that Giff’s policy would have covered guests’ clothing.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ he said harshly. ‘I think that I should send the bill to you.’

  Her smile broadened. ‘Darling Johnny; you are really quite coming on in your new role of detective, aren’t you?’

  ‘No. If I’d been any good at it I would never have left that suit-case in a place where by climbing in through the window you could start a fire to burn it.’

  Ankaret took a long pull at her drink. ‘I’m sorry, Johnny, but I just had to. You see, there were papers in it that Giff would have been terribly distressed for anyone but myself to see.’

  ‘And I can guess what sort of papers they were,’ he told her angrily. ‘Does the name Desmond Chawton mean anything to you?’

  Her face suddenly became a mask. ‘Yes; he is an old friend of mine. Why?’

  ‘Because about a year ago I met him in Germany, and one night we got rather tight together. But not too tight for him to know what he was talking about. The amount he had drunk had loosened him up just enough for him to tell me a lot about you. From then on I realised that Giff had had a rotten deal. He was brave enough and clever enough to put a good face on it, so that he appeared to be happy with you; but all the time he must have been suffering the tortures of the damned. He adored you too much to give you up, although he knew that you were being consistently unfaithful to him.’

  ‘You’ve got things all wrong, Johnny!’ Ankaret’s cry was one of genuine pain. ‘I swear you have!’

  ‘Oh no I haven’t,’ he retorted. ‘How about the Spanish Marquis and all the rest of them? You’ve no more moral sense than an animal. As an intelligent human being you could have found ways to keep your lusts in check; but you wouldn’t even try. Instead you gave free rein to your lechery, until it led to Giff’s death. And now you have added arson to your other crimes. I haven’t a doubt that those papers you have destroyed would have enabled me to put you and your latest lover in the dock at the Old Bailey. And if I can get a new line on what really took place here last Friday night I’ll do it yet.’

  Ankaret was very pale, but she had recovered her poise. After tossing back what remained of her brandy and soda, she said:

  ‘You are tilting at windmills, Johnny. I haven’t got a new lover, and if poor Giff were still alive he would be the first to tell you to stop trying to pin his death on me. But what’s the odds. Go on trying if you will. I don’t give a damn. The only thing which might have ever given anyone a clue to the truth about this awful business is now a handful of ash. You’ve missed the boat!’

  8

  Tuesday 13th September

  By two o’clock in the morning the fire had been got under control. One engine remained and its crew continued to play their hose on the smouldering embers; the others departed, as did the locals and all but two of the police. Johnny was provided with a pair of my pyjamas and my toilet things and accommodated in the second double spare room, next to Bill; then the household went belatedly to bed.

  The hall was in a fine mess, for muddy boots and hoses had been dragged through it, but that could soon be cleared up; and the only serious damage to the main block was in the dining-room, where a lot of water had come through the ceiling. On the other hand the wing beyond it had been rendered completely untenable. Three of the rooms on the ground floor had been gutted and left exposed to the sky when the floor of the lab and its glass roof
fell in; so whether Ankaret had intended it or not she had killed two birds with one stone. Somewhere among the charred debris lay not only my papers, but also the twisted remains of the death ray machine. No one now would be able to deduce from it the secret of Evans’s discovery and that eliminated the possibility of even remote speculations upon the use to which he might have put it.

  I remained down in my library, and was ready enough to black out for a few hours when the others went to bed, but I was roused early by the clatter of pails coming through to me from the main hall. Silvers and our helps who come in daily from the village were mopping up and putting the place right as far as possible in readiness for my funeral.

  At about half-past nine Johnny drove off in his car. I wondered where he was off to; but on his return, an hour and a half later, he was wearing a topper and a morning coat, so it was obvious that to hire suitable kit for the occasion he had driven in to Southampton.

  The funeral had been timed for twelve o’clock to enable anyone coming from London for it to get down that morning, and shortly before midday those who were going to follow the hearse began to arrive at the house. Among them were Edith, Christobel and Harold, James Compton and the rest of my co-directors, Eddie Arnold, the Admiral and Dr. Culver. Meanwhile my body had been brought up from the beach house and its flower-covered coffin put into the hearse.

  Bill had naturally taken charge of the arrangements and when everything was ready went up to fetch Ankaret. She bowed to the others as he escorted her out to the first car but I could not see her face, as she was heavily veiled. The church was about two miles away; and when we got there I was surprised to see the number of people who had assembled, for many of whom there was not room in the building. Of course I had a lot of friends in the neighbourhood and, the works having been closed for the day, a large number of my employees were present; but there were also many strangers. I imagine that news of the fire on top of the tragedy at Long-shot had brought a lot of them there from morbid curiosity.