The Ka of Gifford Hillary

by Dennis Wheatley

  After a further conversation with James in private, during which they did little more than go over the ground already covered, Johnny went down to his car. As I now expected, as soon as he reached Southampton’s city centre, he took the road to Longshot.

  Sitting, invisible, beside him in the car I felt greatly distressed by his sad and worn appearance. The riddle of how I had died, and even more the idea that I might have been buried alive, must have played a great part in that; but now, in addition, he, was faced with a major worry of his own. Unless James succeeded in calling the Admiral off, poor Johnny was going to have some very difficult explaining to do. Innocent he might be, and no one could prove him otherwise; but unless he could produce some plausible explanation to account for my having been in possession of so much Top Secret information, the weight of circumstantial evidence would incline everyone to believe that it was he who had given it to me. Then, on top of all that, by extraordinary ill-fortune, it chanced that the very man who had threatened to do his best to break him was the one he hoped to make his future father-in-law.

  All this, although through no deliberate fault of mine, lay at my door; but badly as I felt about it, fate had placed it beyond my power to help him.

  It was a little after midday when we arrived at Longshot. Silvers was hovering unhappily about the hall. He told Johnny that he would ‘find His Lordship in the library’; so Johnny walked through to my old sanctum. Bill was sitting there slumped in an arm-chair. On a table beside him stood a cocktail glass and a glass jug a third full of pale amber liquid, which I had no doubt consisted of about one French to eight Gin.

  His Lordship liked his Martinis very dry. He also liked a carefree existence. In fact I had never known a man who, despite constant financial difficulties, displayed a greater ability to glide gracefully out of trouble. He toiled not, neither did he spin; but somehow, the war apart, he had managed to idle away all but a fraction of his life in congenial company. Now that trouble had been thrust upon him he was, true to form, doing his best to ride it out on a liberal supply of Dry Martinis.

  Having proffered his deepest sympathy to the bereaved parent, Johnny accepted a ration of the brew. As he took it Bill said:

  ‘Terrible thing. And right on top of Giff, too. Can’t remember ever having been so cut up in my life—except when I lost my wife. Poor gel. Of course I knew she was damned fond of Giff, but not this much. Still, it’s obvious now that she felt she couldn’t go on without him.’

  I had very good reasons to suppose, and so had Johnny, that it was not solely on account of love for me that Ankaret had made an end of herself. Naturally he forbade from suggesting that, and said instead:

  ‘From the little James Compton told us at the meeting I feared that might be the case. I suppose it is beyond doubt that she did, er—take her own life?’

  ‘Oh yes. It was quite deliberate, too. I imagine she had been contemplating so for some days. She ordered a half bottle of champagne to drink with her dinner; then when her maid found her this morning she had a lot of Giff’s love letters scattered over her bed, and an empty phial that had held veronal tablets still clutched in her hand.’

  ‘Did she leave any … any note, or anything?’ Johnny asked. He made his voice sound casual but I caught an eager glint in his eyes, which told me that, despite his own anxieties, he was still as keen as ever to get on the track of the hypothetical ‘Third Man’ who he believed had murdered me.

  Bill had picked up the jug to pour himself another drink. ‘No,’ he said, without looking up. ‘Not as far as I know; but there’s just a chance that the police may find something. Naturally I had to call them in. They sent out that same Inspector chap and his pal the Sergeant. Being cautious blokes they wouldn’t give any definite opinion, and they are still up there routing round. In a clear case like this it seems all wrong they should be allowed to pry into poor Ankaret’s private affairs, but I suppose it’s their job to satisfy themselves that she really did, er—take an overdose.’

  ‘I’ll be staying here for the night,’ Johnny announced, ‘if that’s all right by you? As one of Giff’s trustees I’ve got to go through his papers. Unfortunately I had already removed the ones which were probably the most important from the lock-up top of his desk; and they were destroyed in the fire. But there are still the drawers underneath, and I expect he had some letter files somewhere.’

  ‘Glad to have you,’ Bill replied. ‘I’ve already telephoned to old Frothy Massingham and asked myself to dinner. Felt I must get out of the place for a few hours somehow. But Silvers will look after you. You’d better have the same room you slept in the night of the fire. Anyhow, make yourself at home.’

  ‘Thanks. And while I am here, if I can be of any help, you have only to let me know.’

  At the idea of someone else taking on the tasks with which his daughter’s death had landed him I could almost see Bill’s somewhat sluggish mind rev up. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘there will be the funeral arrangements as soon as the police let us know when we can hold it. Perhaps you’d see the undertakers for me, and the vicar. Then there are Ankaret’s aunts and other relatives who will have to be informed. If I gave you a list of names you could send the telegrams off for me.’

  Johnny smiled. ‘All right, let’s draft a telegram and make out a list, right away. I can fill in the time and date of the funeral when we know it.’

  Having no interest in the matter I left them and floated upstairs to Ankaret.

  A sheet had been pulled up over her face; so to any living person she would now have been only a still form lying in the centre of the bed. But on becoming a Ka I had soon realised the super-physical qualities that my new state gave me. Not only could I pass through solids at will but I could to some extent see through them. Just as my speed of movement was limited, so was the penetration of my vision. I could not see through brick walls, but if I concentrated on a closed cupboard I could make out its contents quite clearly, and the clothes people were wearing only blurred the outlines of their figures.

  In consequence the linen sheet that covered Ankaret’s face was no more a barrier to my sight than would have been a sheet of cellophane; and even through the thicker bed-clothes her slender form was visible. She looked completely calm and there was a faint suggestion of a smile about her lips, as though she was amused at having cheated the world of its chance to condemn her to years of misery. About that I could not help being happy for her, yet my emotions were sadly wrung at the thought that her loveliness must soon be stiff, cold and mottled with blotches; and that never again could we experience together the joys we had known in life.

  Yet it was not only to gaze upon her that I had come there. I hoped that having been so well attuned in life we might still be linked in death; and that if, as in my case, her Ka had survived we might be able to see each other, and so be happily reunited.

  In that I was disappointed. No nebulous figure hovered in the room, and some psychic sense told me that her body was completely empty. Yet I did not despair of meeting her later on. If her Ka did survive it might well be elsewhere at the moment. In fact there was every reason why it should be, for the room was so full of police that they were almost tumbling over one another; and she would have resented their presence, just as I did.

  The Inspector was going through the drawers of her bed-side table; the Sergeant was examining her make-up things; a photographer was erecting his camera by the window; a fingerprint expert was scattering powder on the knob of the door leading to the passage, and a fifth man was rummaging through her wardrobe.

  Sick at heart I left them to it and went out into the garden. It was again a pleasant morning, and I thought it the most likely place in which I might find her; but though I drifted disconsolately about it and along the foreshore for the best part of two hours my search proved unavailing.

  Re-entering the house about half-past two I found that Johnny had settled down to go through my remaining papers in earnest. He had emptied the drawers of my desk a
nd found the letter files which I kept in the cupboard under the bookcase.

  As he went through the files he was extracting a letter here and there and putting it aside. A glance at them told me that he was no longer seeking for evidence of Ankaret’s complicity in my death, or at least not primarily. The letters were mostly from men I had met in the war, who had remained my friends and since risen to high rank. There were four Air Marshals and two Generals among them; and three Admirals of a slightly older generation who had been friends of my father.

  He was, of course, hoping to find that I had been in intimate correspondence with one of them, and thus perhaps get a lead to who had given me my secret information. But the letters he had put aside contained nothing other than news of mutual friends and arrangements to meet socially; and I knew only too well that he would come upon nothing which would be of the least value to him. Being tired now from another early morning start, I went into the drawing-room and settled down for my equivalent of a nap.

  I was roused by Johnny coming through the room, and saw from the clock on the mantelpiece that it was now nearly six. As he strode past to the hall I followed, and we were soon once more together in his car. He took the road to Beaulieu and pulled up on the corner where he had met Sue two nights before. About five minutes later, her pretty brown curls blown back a little from her forehead by the wind, she came walking briskly up the lane.

  As a lover’s greeting Johnny’s was considerably below par. Urged on by his anxiety, before she had had time even to settle herself beside him, he abruptly enquired if her father was at home.

  ‘No,’ she replied, raising her eyebrows, ‘why do you ask?’

  He sighed. ‘I’m sorry to say, Sue, that this morning I had another row with him.’

  ‘Oh darling! You promised me faithfully that at the next board meeting you would keep your temper—so as not to make matters worse.’

  ‘I know I did. But there’s a limit to what even a saint could stand. He accused me of being a liar, a traitor and a crook. I couldn’t just sit there and let that pass; so I told him that unless he took it back I’d sue him for slander.’

  ‘What!’ Sue gave a gasp. ‘You threatened to bring an action against Daddy?’

  ‘That’s it. Of course, I didn’t really mean to; and after he had stamped out of the room James Compton offered to pour oil on the troubled waters by letting him know that. James promised to get hold of him about midday; but he telephoned me at Longshot, just after I asked you to meet me here this evening, to say that he had been on to your home, and the woman who answered the ‘phone had said that your father would not be in for lunch. Until a moment ago I was still hoping that James might have run him to earth at the Club in Southampton or somewhere.’

  ‘If Mr. Compton had spoken to me I could have told him that he would have no luck. Daddy packed a suit-case before he left this morning. He is spending the night in London, and after the board meeting he meant to drive straight up.’

  ‘So he intended to go to London anyway?’

  ‘Yes; but what is there so surprising about that?’

  Johnny gave her then a full account of the meeting and of the Admiral’s final outburst. When he had done she asked:

  ‘What will happen to you if Daddy does carry out his threat?’

  ‘I’m hanged if I know.’ Johnny sighed again. ‘Uncle Giff could have cleared me in a single sentence. He would only have had to name the source from which he got the gen. But as he is dead there is no way in which I can prove my innocence. On the other hand nobody can possibly prove me to be guilty, because I’m not. Yet they will believe me to be. The circumstantial evidence is so damning. For a breach of security of this kind, an officer in my position of trust would be liable to be cashiered and receive a heavy prison sentence into the bargain. As the Court can’t find me guilty it won’t come to that. But the Air Ministry can retire an officer compulsorily at any time, simply by notifying him that Her Majesty no longer has any use for his services. That is probably the line they will adopt.

  ‘Alternatively if they have any doubts—although I can’t see why they should have—they may decide against being quite so drastic. That would mean my being hoisted out of my present job and transferred to some God forsaken post in a desert or a jungle where I’d no longer be a security risk. And of course, I’d be barred from any chance of further promotion. They would just let me work out my time in my present rank, then “goodbye Wing Commander Norton”. It would be a jolly life for the next few years, wouldn’t it?’ Johnny ended bitterly. ‘Trying to run some little off-the-map station with everyone whispering behind my back that I was the promising boyho who had blotted it because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.’

  After a moment he went on: ‘I’ve not much doubt that your father meant to do what he threatened; and if he did I’m afraid I’m all washed-up. By the time the Air Ministry are through with me I’ll be little good to myself or anyone else; let alone a sweet person like you. I’m glad now that we haven’t announced our engagement. At least you’ll be spared from officious sympathy and unpleasant gossip through having broken it off. And that’s what we’ve got to do.’

  Sue turned her face to his and her little chin stuck out. ‘We’ll do no such thing! Johnny, you’re mine. I love you and I mean to hang on to you. I wouldn’t be worth having if I hesitated about that for an instant. What is more, if they retire you or order you abroad I’ll marry you the very next day after they’ve told you their decision.’

  ‘No, I can’t let you. I love you much too much to allow you to sacrifice yourself.’ Johnny’s voice was firm, but I could see that Sue meant to fight him for all she was worth.

  Feeling that it would be hardly decent to stand in while they faced this private crisis in their lives, I moved off some way along the ditch but kept a watch on the car as I did not want it to drive off without me. Nearly half an hour elapsed then, ignoring the fact that they were on the open road, they suddenly clutched one another in a violent embrace, and from the position of their heads it was obvious that they were kissing. That made me pretty confident that Sue had got the best of the argument; so, having given them a few endearments, I returned and passed into the back of the car.

  Johnny was just saying: ‘I meant to break the bad news to you, than spend the rest of the evening in misery on my own. But since you are determined to see this thing through with me we had better cheer ourselves up with some dinner.’

  ‘I don’t feel like going to an inn,’ Sue said, after a moment. ‘Let’s go home, and I’ll knock up something.’

  ‘Better not,’ he replied a shade dubiously. ‘If your old man returned unexpectedly, he would be absolutely furious with you.’

  Sue gave an abrupt, defiant laugh. ‘The odds are all against that. But if he did, who cares? The sooner he knows that I mean to nail my flag to the mast about this, the better. Even if he threw me out I’m not such a nit-wit that I couldn’t find a job to keep myself until we can get married.’

  Johnny kissed her again. ‘You wouldn’t have to, my sweet. I’d see to that.’

  Ten minutes later they were in the kitchen of Sue’s home. As the Admiral was away she had given the gardener’s wife, who came in and cooked for them, an evening off and had meant to get her own dinner. Now, their cares temporarily forgotten, they romped like children playing at husband and wife—except for breaking off to exchange frequent kisses—while preparing themselves a little feast to be eaten off the kitchen table.

  But their happy mood did not last long. Before they were through the bottle of champagne that Sue had looted from her father’s cellar Johnny was replying only in monosyllables to her cheerful chatter. Giving him a swift sideways glance, she said:

  ‘You are looking wretched, darling; and terribly worn out. The big blow-up having taken place only this morning, that can’t account for it altogether. I suppose you are still worrying over the mystery surrounding your uncle’s death. Have you managed to get a line yet on the wicked Lad
y Ankaret?’

  Sue’s question caused Johnny to realise that, not having seen her father since the board meeting, she still knew nothing of the latest tragedy at Longshot. He proceeded to tell her about it and what he believed to be the reason for Ankaret’s suicide. Once launched on the subject he was soon led to that of myself.

  Quite understandably he refrained from disclosing his previous relationship to Daisy, describing her simply as a professional dancer whom he had met soon after his return from Malaya and whom, knowing her to have psychic gifts, he had looked up again to consult.

  I don’t think Sue was deceived; but she was the sort of girl who would have had little respect for a chap who had not sowed his wild oats, and had enough confidence in herself not to be jealous of the past mistress of a man she had made up her mind to marry. Anyway she refrained from comment, and Johnny went on to describe in detail all that had occurred during his meeting with Daisy and with Mr. Tibitts.

  Sue listened, her brown eyes at times wide with amazement, at others shadowed by doubt or disbelief. When he had done, she said:

  ‘This can’t be true, darling. It really can’t. The very idea of your uncle having been buried alive is too horrible to contemplate. It will give me nightmares for a week but I simply don’t believe it.’

  Johnny’s tale had taken long in telling, and they argued the pros and cons for a further half hour; so it was after half-past ten when he declared:

  ‘Anyway, I can’t stand this uncertainty any longer. Neither Daisy nor Tibitts were lying. I am convinced of that. And if they are right about this Ka business you see what that adds up to? Uncle Giff is lying there in his coffin; and he is still alive. If they are wrong, and he isn’t, then I’ll be able to sleep again. But I’ve got to find out.’

  ‘You … you,’ Sue stared at him in sudden terror, ‘you don’t mean that you are going to his grave?’