Contraband gs-1

by Dennis Wheatley

  'I propose to give you tea in my rooms,' he smiled. 'Any objection?'

  She hesitated. 'Is it your custom to take a lady to your apartment on so brief an acquaintance?'

  He laughed. 'No, but ours is hardly an ordinary acquaintance. After all, we shared a bedroom and bathroom for the night in Deauville, didn't we, so surely you're not going to kick at having tea in my sitting room. We'll be more comfortable there than in the crowded lounge of some hotel.'

  'Perhaps, but did you not warn me that when that night was over you would become the Big Bad Wolf? And now it seems you propose to take me to your cave.'

  'Here it is,' he said, pulling up, 'and it's a very nice cave although it doesn't look much from the outside.'

  Sabine got out and stared for a moment at the grimy three storey house, one of a block of twenty or more, with its little grocery shop on the ground floor abutting on the sidewalk. 'You live here no!' she said in considerable surprise.

  'Yes. Queer looking place, isn't it, but my soldier servant who went all through the War with me, and saved my life more than once, owns it. His wife left it to him and this little bit of property is about the only thing he's got. I occupy the first floor and pay my rent regularly, which is more than most of the other tenants do, as they're poor students studying at the university round the corner. If I cleared out the poor chap might go broke and have to sell the place. That's why I stay on.'

  She regarded him doubtfully for a moment and then she smiled. 'I pay you a great compliment, for I do not t'ink that I would go into such a place with any other man that I had known only for so short a time but, you see, I trust you.'

  He opened the side door with his key and as she preceded him up the rickety stairs he thought, 'She trusts me, and I'm spying on her, ferreting out her affairs. What a rotten swine I am when one comes to think of it, but it's that devil Gavin Fortescue we're up against and we've got to save the country from unprincipled blackguards like him. I'm only using her as a stalking horse, after all, and somehow or other I'll have to get her out of it when the crash does come, else I'll never be able to look at myself in my shaving mirror any more.'

  'But how lovely!' Sabine exclaimed as he threw open the door of his sitting room and showed her in. The room was unexpectedly gay and cheerful after the blackened exterior of the house and Rudd had done his duty nobly at the florists by spending lavishly on flowers.

  Gregory guided her to the settee, stacked cushions round her and threw one at her feet. 'A cigarette,' he laughed, proffering an onyx box, 'then tea.'

  They had hardly settled down when Rudd came in wheeling a dumb waiter with half the contents of a baker's shop spread out upon it.

  'Mon dieu she exclaimed. 'Do you expect me to eat all this or have you a party of twenty people coming?'

  'No, it's just Rudd,' he laughed. 'Rudd's fond of cakes and he gets all the ones that we can't eat.'

  ' 'Arternoon, Miss,' Rudd said with a sheepish grin. 'You won't take too much notice of Mr. Gregory, I hope. He's always been a one what likes a leg pull.'

  She smiled up at him, pulling off her hat and throwing it carelessly on to a chair. 'But you are a genius, Mr. Rudd, to provide so heavenly a tea. Look now at those éclairs. I am greedy for éclairs always and shall not leave you a single one.'

  Rudd almost blushed with pleasure. 'That's the way, Miss. It's a real pleasure to find for a lady what likes it when you do your best.' He backed out of the doorway with a smile.

  'I understand now why you live here,' Sabine said, nipping off the end of one of the éclairs with her small white teeth. 'He is a character, that one, and I would bet, your devoted slave as well.'

  Gregory nodded. 'Yes, he's one of the very best and I'm a stupid sentimental fool but I'd go through hell to pull him out of a hole.'

  'I believe that. You persuade yourself always that you are hard, hard as iron nails, yet for your friends you are, I think, supremely good.'

  He looked at her for a moment searchingly. 'And do you count me a friend of yours, Sabine?'

  Yes. You are my friend, although why I do not know.'

  'Do we ever know these things?' He shrugged. 'Does it matter. We're a short time living and a long time dead. Believe me, I am your friend and that's why I wish to God you were out of all this.'

  'By this you mean what?' Her eyes clouded quickly.

  'I don't know,' he lied, 'only that you're mixed up in some way with a pretty nasty crowd. You'll remember, no doubt, that the last time we were together, and I left you to get my car in the Guiilaume le Conquerant at Dives I was unavoidably detained; so I was unable to run you back to Deauville after all or even send you my apologies. I suppose you know what happened to me?'

  Sabine began to giggle; then she suddenly lay back and gave way to a fit of helpless laughter.

  'Go on! Laugh away,' Gregory chid her in mock anger, 'but it was devilish painful at the time.'

  'Forgive me,' she sighed, struggling to regain her breath. 'Of course I know and I was miserable until I learned that no serious harm had been done you. The Big Bad Wolf walked into the Tiger's den and got more than he bargained for n'est pas?'

  Gregory shrugged. 'I'm not grumbling. Your elderly friend sent me a note to the Normandie saying that he'd make trouble for me if I didn't send you back to him immediately after breakfast. And I know you had no hand in it because you warned me to keep an eye open for the Limper when you spotted him in the hotel courtyard. I asked for it and I got it that's all. What does worry me though is to know that you're associated with people who'd go to the length of staging a criminal attack when their wishes are thwarted. There was that assault on the young Scotland Yard man in Trouville the night before, too, you'll remember. As for the man you call your friend, I don't mind telling you now, that I recognised him the second I set eyes on him. It's Lord Gavin Fortescue, and I happen to know that he's unfit for any decent person to touch with a barge pole.'

  Sabine shook back her dark curls. 'It is he who has been so good to my mother and myself. But for him I would be perhaps a girl in a dress shop or in some Budapest nacht lokd.'

  'Maybe, but from now on I want you to watch your step. I've no idea how closely you're connected with him' in business but, whatever he may have done for you, don't let him involve you more than you can help in his own affairs else ill may come of it.'

  She shrugged. 'He is kind and generous.'

  'I know, I know/ Gregory muttered resignedly, well aware that he was trying to lock the stable door after the horse had escaped. 'But time will show, and it worries me stiff to think he may involve you in some ghastly trouble.'

  'Sufficient unto the day of the evil thereof,' she quoted solemnly, armoured in the belief that neither Gregory nor the police yet knew anything that really mattered about her secret business.

  It was after tea had been cleared away, and Gregory was hunting in the shelves behind the settee for a copy of a book of which they had been talking, when she said suddenly: 'Big Bad Wolf, come here.'

  He turned and came up behind her. 'What is it?'

  Suddenly she stretched up her arms towards him. 'I like you, Gregory,' she said. 'You are just my idea of what a man should be; very gay, very unconventional, very brave.'

  Her arms closed behind his bent head and she drew his face down to hers. Gregory's heart pounded in his chest as it had not done for a dozen years. His hands, trembling slightly, cupped themselves round her cheeks and his mouth fastened on her soft lips with all the pent-up hunger that was in him.

  12

  One Up to Gerry Wells

  It was over an hour later when Gregory committed one of the biggest blunders he had ever made in his life.

  He knew little of Sabine, except that she was enchantingly lovely, possessed a gaiety which matched his own, and that a mutual passion had swept them off their feet; so his error was, perhaps, excusable. It was only natural that, after the wonderful hour they had spent together, he should be more desperately anxious than ever to save her from
the danger which menaced her as an associate of Gavin Fortescue.

  There was no question of her guilt. He knew, and what was far worse Inspector Wells knew, that she was up to her eyebrows in the smuggling racket. She must be perfectly well aware that she was laying herself open to the severest penalties if she continued her criminal activities and, now that the police had their teeth into the business, Gregory saw with appalling clarity that it could only be a matter of time before she was arrested.

  Once she was charged in a court of law there could only be one verdict upon the evidence which would be submitted. The fact that she was a young and lovely woman might gain her the sympathy of the jury, but leniency was not their province and, however reluctant they might be to do so, they would have to find her 'guilty'. The judge would certainly not allow a plea that Gavin Fortescue had been a benefactor to her and her mother as sufficient excuse for becoming a member of his criminal organisation and would pass sentence upon

  The thought of her as a female convict, in rough clothes, serving a sentence among thieves, prostitutes, and child beaters, was absolutely unbearable to Gregory and momentarily it overbalanced his usual astute judgment of the best way in which to handle a situation…

  She did not show him by the flicker of an eyelid that he had blundered, but listened to all he said with grave attention and apparent gratitude; yet she would not commit herself to following the line of action he urged upon her, saying that she must have time to think it over.

  Feeling he had gained ground, and that at least she would not commit herself further for the time being, he mixed some cocktails and asked what she intended to do that evening.

  'I do not know now,' she replied slowly.

  'Why not dine with me then?' he suggested. 'Let's go gay. We'll forget all this until you've had time to sleep on it.'

  To his immense relief she consented, and so it was agreed that she should take a taxi back to the Carlton while he changed into evening clothes, and that he should pick her up there at eight o'clock.

  He had no hesitation in letting her go. They kissed again and clung to each other as though they were parting for a period of years although they were to meet again in a little over an hour.

  It was only when he was in his bath that doubts about the wisdom of his action began to assail him. She had been so quiet and said so little while he had been pressing arguments upon her to cut clear of the mess she was in before it was too late. She had promised nothing and he really knew so little of how deeply she might be implicated in Lord Gavin's plans. What if he had failed to convince her of her danger and she gave him the slip. Knowing now, from his own admission, that he was working with the police, she would avoid any place where she feared he might find her. It might be weeks or months before she visited Quex Park again, and that was the only place from which he could hope to pick up her trail if she once abandoned the Carlton.

  He began to dress with feverish haste, frantic with anxiety now that he had given himself away, lest she might disregard his warning and yet be compelled, from the nature of her activities, and the knowledge of his intentions, to sacrifice their overwhelming attraction for each other and disappear altogether.

  By the time he was ready to telephone a cab his face was dark with anger. An inner voice kept telling him that he had acted like a lunatic. He had been mad to let her out of his sight for a second and utterly insane to confess that he was working with the police. How could his prayers that she should cut adrift from Lord Gavin possibly have any effect when she was so deeply involved. If only he had held his peace he could at least have followed her up quite easily, or even kept in touch with her by arrangement, as long as she had no suspicion that he was spying on her. Then, he would have been at hand to warn her just as the police net was about to close and perhaps be able to help her in escaping its meshes. Now, he had spiked his own guns by blurting out a premature warning. The sort of folly of which any callow youth, bitten by his first calf love, might have been guilty. He let out a peculiarly blasphemous and quite unprintable Italian oath as he bounded down the stairs.

  On the way westward in the taxi he only paused long enough to buy her a great spray of orchids and a buttonhole for himself. Then, immediately he reached the hotel, he dashed straight to the desk and asked the clerk to telephone her room.

  A moment later his worst forebodings were realised. The bland young man behind the reception counter shook his head. 'I'm sorry, sir, Mademoiselle Szenty left here half an hour ago.'

  'For good?' snapped Gregory.

  'She took her luggage with her.'

  'Did she leave an address?'

  'No sir, but if you're Mr. Sallust she left a letter for you.'

  'I am. Let's have it please.' With swift fingers Gregory tore

  open the blue envelope and read the few lines upon the single

  sheet:

  My dear,

  You work for the police. To confess it, because you hoped to save me, that was generous of you, but if you had known me better you would never have done so. How is it possible that I should ever betray the man who has been so good, to my mother and myself?

  That you should be engaged in this work is tragic for me. I liked you so very much, but now we must put our brief hour behind us because it is impossible for us ever to meet as friends again.

  Sabine.

  For a moment Gregory regarded the big box of orchids which he had bought for her a little stupidly. What should he do with them? Those gorgeous blossoms which he had hoped to see gracing her shoulder were useless now: nothing but a bitter mockery of a joy that might have been.

  With an impatient gesture he thrust them over to the reception clerk. 'Flowers,' he said briefly. 'If you've got a wife or girl friend they may come in useful.' Then he turned angrily away.

  To his surprise he found himself staring into Gerry Wells's freckled face. The young Inspector was standing there, clad in a neat dark blue lounge suit, a black soft hat dangling in one hand and a walking stick in the other. He was smiling broadly.

  'Well, how's the amateur detective getting on?' he inquired cheerfully.

  'He's not,' Gregory snapped. 'For God's sake let's have a drink. I've mucked up the whole darned business.' Then he led the way down the passage to the cocktail bar.

  'Let's hear the worst,' Wells suggested when they were seated at one of the little tables with drinks before them.

  'I met her here just before lunch,' Gregory tossed off his drink and ordered another, 'staged the party perfectly, brought old Sir Pellinore along so she shouldn't suspect I had any idea she was staying here. In the afternoon she met some buyer at the Royal Palacethen I got her along to my rooms. Everything was going swimmingly until after tea then I lost my head and behaved like a stupid schoolboy.'

  The Inspector chuckled. 'Doesn't do to mix pleasure with business, does it?'

  'Dammit, you don't understand,' Gregory burst out. 'I'd rather lose my right hand than see her sent to prison; so I spilled the beans that I was working with the police and knew all about the smuggling racket. Then I begged and prayed of her to save herself by turning King's evidence. She wouldn't promise anything but said she must have time to think and promised to let me take her out to dinner if I called here for her again at eight o'clock. I was pretty well certain I'd persuaded her to come in with us; but when I turned up here a few minutes ago I found she had quit and quit for good.'

  Wells's eyes narrowed a fraction. 'What exactly did you give away to her during these empassioned moments?'

  'Oh, don't fret yourself, passion or no I'm a cautious old bird. I only said we were on to Gavin Fortescue's smuggling racket generally. I didn't breathe a word about the secret base between Calais and Boulogne or Quex Park, so there's no reason to suppose that they'll abandon either of those hangouts. She won't use the Carlton again, of course, and now she knows I'm a sort of unofficial policeman God alone knows if I'll be able to get in touch with her again at all.'

  'I wouldn't worry about that.' T
he Inspector winked suddenly. We're not all quite nitwits, you know. I've had a couple of men following her all day, just in case you slipped up. She's on the road to Quex Park now, as I've just learned from one of the flying squad cars that's sitting on her tail, and as soon as I've had a bite to eat I'm flying down myself. When your man told me on the telephone, ten minutes ago, that you'd changed in a hurry to dash out to dinner, I had a hunch I'd find you here, I thought perhaps you might like to go with me then maybe you'll see her again this evening after all.'

  13

  Gregory Sallust Has Cause to Hate His job

  Gregory and Wells considered it unlikely that the smugglers would undertake any operations much before midnight, but Sabine would do the journey to Quex Park in a couple of hours and so should arrive there by a quarter past ten, or a little after. She might remain only long enough to make fresh arrangements then leave again by plane so, as it was essential to keep track of her, they decided to lose no time following her down into Kent.

  They had spent barely a quarter of an hour in reviewing the situation, and Gregory reckoned that even allowing for a return to his flat and a scratch meal on the surplus of the supplies got in for Sabine's tea he could reach Croydon, where Wells's plane was stationed, by 9.30, if he was quick changing into more suitable clothes.

  He left the Inspector to call at the Yard and go on down to Croydon ahead of him, then he secured a likely looking taxi and promised the driver double fare if they reached Gloucester Road in under twelve minutes. The man earned his extra money with thirty seconds to spare.

  On arriving there Gregory sent Rudd for his car while he changed and ate simultaneously. Once he was out of his tails and clad in his battle equipment he sat down to the wheel of his long two-seater with Rudd beside him to bring it back. Taking the short cut across the river through Battersea, Wandsworth and Tooting, he drove out to Croydon at a speed which shocked onlookers but was actually quite safe for a really expert driver.

  Wells was awaiting him, now dressed in airman's kit, beside a single engine 120 h.p. two-seater Tiger Moth.