Evil in a Mask rb-9

by Dennis Wheatley

  During the battle of Aspern-Essling, while carrying a mess­age from the Emperor to Massena, a bullet had knocked Roger's hat from his head and ploughed through his scalp. It was not a serious wound, but resulted in his being sent, after a few days on Lobau, with one of the batches of casualties, into Vienna for treatment by a civilian doctor.

  There, he found that Duroc was already allocating accom­modation in the Schonbrunn Palace, in anticipation of the arrival of the Court. Since the Palace would also be used as

  Great Headquarters, it was certain that it would be crowded and very noisy. As additional accommodation, Duroc had commandeered a number of small private houses just outside the Park. Roger suffered from severe headaches as a result of his wound, so he was anxious to secure quarters where he would be as quiet as possible, and he asked Duroc if he might occupy one of the houses. His old friend readily granted his request.

  It was a pleasant little, double-fronted villa, with a wing consisting of stables and coach house at ground level and ser­vants' quarters above. To the right of the front door, a drawing room ran the whole depth of the house, with a similar room as best bedroom on the first floor. To the left, there was a small dining room and kitchen, with two more bedrooms over. Op­posite the top of the stairs, between the big bedroom and the other, smaller room at the back, was a slip room which could be entered from either. It could have been used as a dressing room, but Roger saw that it had been fitted up as a clothes closet.

  At the back of the house there was a verandah, and along the first floor a broad, covered balcony looking out on a half an acre of pleasant garden. Roger decided that he would leave the big bedroom to Lisala, and himself occupy the smaller one further along the balcony. There, with his soldier servant and groom to serve him, he rested for some days, getting up only for meals and strolls round the garden, until his scalp had healed and his headaches ceased.

  By that time, Napoleon was living in the Palace and Roger reported back for duty. A week later the Court arrived and, as one of the Empress' ladies, Lisala. She was, Roger had to admit to himself, as beautiful as ever; but she stirred no trace of desire in him. Treating her with the same politeness he had shown her in Paris, he took her to the little house. She was enchanted with it, and declared that she wished she could laze away the summer days in the garden instead of having to attend on Josephine. However, hardly had she settled in than, to his intense annoyance, she produced another sheaf of bills that considerably exceeded the one thousand francs a month he had agreed to allow her.

  There followed a violent quarrel. She maintained that, in her position, it was essential always to appear in the latest mode. He argued that other ladies-in-waiting did not always do so and were far less extravagant. She had found out from someone what his pay and allowances amounted to, and de­clared that he could well afford to indulge her tastes. He ad­mitted that he could, but only within reason, and he would soon be beggared if she continued to run up bills at this pace. She remarked with a smile that spies who had given them­selves away should not grumble at having to pay for their con­tinued immunity. Seething with anger, he agreed to settle her bills, then stamped out of the house.

  For the hundredth time he contemplated the terrible fix into which he had got himself, and felt that to go on like this indefinitely was impossible. Yet only two alternatives offered themselves. One was to kill her, the other was to throw in his hand, quietly slip away from Vienna, then make his way to England.

  During his time, Roger had caused many men to die vio­lent deaths, but to murder a woman in cold blood was a very different matter and, although he had come to hate Lisala, he knew he could not kill her. He was almost equally reluc­tant to free himself from her by absconding, because he felt that Europe was now hovering on the brink of the greatest crisis that had arisen for many years. It needed only one major defeat of Napoleon by the Archduke Charles to bring about the Emperor's fall. In adversity, every hand would be against him. In Paris, Talleyrand and Fouche, backed by many of the Marshals, would seize power. Both of them knew the truth about Roger, so he would then have nothing to fear. He could divorce Lisala and send her packing.

  While continuing with her, he had only one consolation. So far no rumour had reached him that she had taken a lover. Her nature being as it was, he had little doubt that, after he left Paris, she had had one or more, and that she would shortly select one here in Vienna. But at least she was exercising dis­cretion in her amours. Perhaps because she had taken seriously his threat that, should she fail to do so, he would kill her. In any case, she had not as yet brought public ridicule upon him.

  During the last half of June Schonbrunn became nightly the scene of balls, operas, plays and brilliant receptions. The Emperor appeared at them all, attended by his subject Kings and Princes, and giving the impression that he considered the war with Austria as good as over. But, during the days and far into the nights, he was in his Cabinet, working with frantic energy to build up the army that still occupied the island of Lobau.

  By early July, Napoleon had succeeded in massing over one hundred and seventy thousand troops on the island, and now had a superiority in numbers; for the Archuke had not been so able or so fortunate in bringing up reserves.

  After the Archduke Ferdinand's first success in taking War­saw, the tide had turned against him. Early in May, Prince Poniatowski took the offensive and prevented him from cross­ing the Vistula. Meanwhile, the Czar, feeling that he must at least make a show of honouring his promise to Napoleon should Austria attack France, despatched a corps towards Lemberg. Now threatened from both sides, Ferdinand had to evacuate Warsaw and, by mid-June, had withdrawn to Opatoff. There followed a number of minor engagements, in which the for­tunes of both sides varied; but the Austrian army of thirty thousand continued to be tied up in distant Poland, so could not be brought to the assistance of the Archduke Charles.

  Fortune had also deserted the Archduke John. After de­feating de Beauharnais and freeing the Tyrol, a large detach­ment he had sent into Dalmatia had been thoroughly defeated by the able Marshal Marmont. By then, de Beauharnais had called up considerable reinforcements and, after a series of conflicts, driven John out of Carinthia; from where he with­drew into Hungary. De Beauharnais had followed him up and, on June 14th, forced him, after a pitched batde outside the fortress of Rueb, to retire again. While retreating in the direction of Pressburg, die Archduke received an urgent sum­mons from his brother Charles, to join him outside Vienna before the seven-week armistice with the French expired. John's original force of fifty-three thousand men had by then been reduced to twenty thousand effectives, and he was a con­siderable distance from the capital; but he altered his line of march, hoping to arrive in time to participate in the great battle that was about to take place in the neighbourhood of Lobau.

  In consequence, the Archduke Charles could dispose of only one hundred and thirty-five thousand men, as opposed to Napoleon's one hundred and seventy thousand. On the other hand, the French had to cross the arm of the Danube separat­ing the island from the mainland, then advance through Aspern-Essling and four miles of open country before they could attack the Austrians' major concentration, which occu­pied a ridge of hills where there stood the village of Wagram.

  For some time past, with great labour, the Austrians had been throwing up very strong defences opposite the north shore of Lobau, as it was there, the river being at its narrowest, the French were expected to make their attempt to cross. But Napoleon had prepared a most effective deception plan.

  On the night of July 4th, the French opened a terrific can­nonade directed at the Austrian trenches north of Lobau. Meanwhile, sufficient boats to form six bridges that had been kept under camouflage, were swiftly hooked together and swung into position from the cast end of the island, across the much broader channel to the mainland.

  When the battle opened, a violent storm was raging. Forked lightning streaked down, and the crashes of thunder could not be distinguished from the roar of
the bombardment. In tor­rents of rain the divisions of Oudinot and Massena streamed over the bridges. The Austrian earthworks were outflanked and rapidly evacuated, their defenders swiftly retiring to the ridge of hills. Dawn saw the whole French army deployed for battle on the mainland.

  At midday, the French marched steadily forward and, in the afternoon, launched an attack in close columns on the heights held by the Austrians. But, by seven o'clock, they had been beaten back from Wagram with heavy losses. The battle was then broken off, to be renewed on the morning of the 6th.

  The Archduke took the offensive, launching his right with such force that he drove Massena back on to Aspern. The Aus­trian centre then advanced, and several hours of most bloody conflict ensued, as the White-Coats gradually gained ground from the French. Realising the danger in which his army now stood of being driven into the river, the Emperor massed one hundred cannon, afterwards known as the 'Grand Battery', and, under its devastating fire, the Austrians' advance was checked. He then launched a solid column consisting of thirty thousand infantry and six thousand horse, under General Macdonald, against the enemy's centre. It gave, but did not break, and the Archduke might yet have emerged victorious, because his left wing was almost intact.

  It was the brilliant Davoust who really saved the day. His corps had been allotted the task of preventing the Archduke John's army from arriving on the scene. On learning that battle had been joined, Davoust left only a light screen of troops to mislead the Archduke into believing that his way to Vienna was still barred, then hastened with the bulk of his corps to Napoleon's assistance. He arrived late in the afternoon, but in time to drive the Austrians from the village of Neusiedel, and so threw their left into confusion. At length the whole of the Archduke Charles' army was forced back from the heights of Wagram, although it retired in good order, and covered by a murderous artillery fire.

  The Emperor naturally claimed Wagram as a great victory, but it was far from that. The Austrians had fought with splen­did heroism against much superior odds and, although they had lost twenty-four thousand men, they had accounted for eighteen thousand French. Moreover, they had fallen back as a still orderly and unbroken army. For two days, the French followed them up, but only feebly. Napoleon's army, now largely composed of teen-aged recruits, had sadly deteriorated. They had neither the stamina nor the elan of the hard-bitten troops who had fought at Marengo and Austerlitz. The Aus­trians had proved better soldiers and had covered themselves with glory. At Zneym, on the 12th, another armistice was agreed.

  Roger had been lucky in the battle as, after the first great clash had occurred on the 5th and the French had been driven back, Napoleon had sent him post-haste to Vienna, to raise every small detachment he could from the scant garrison left there and bring them to the battlefield. He had worked all through the night, despatching cooks, clerks and storekeepers, who were of little value, out to Lobau, and himself had not returned until the terrible carnage on the 6th was nearly over.

  To give greater credence to his proclamation of victory, Napoleon distributed a number of honours and awards. For the part Macdonald had played in leading the decisive charge, the Emperor gave him on the field his baton as a Marshal. A few days later, when the list was published, Roger learned that, for special services, he had been elevated to the Napo­leonic peerage, and was now Colonel Baron de Breuc.

  That evening, as he did now and again for appearances' sake, he dined at his little house with Lisala. They had reached a state where they now hardly bothered to talk to each other. But he told her that he had been made a Baron.

  Looking up from her plate, she fixed her huge eyes on his and asked, 'Will that mean an increase in your income?'

  "Yes,' he told her. 'The Emperor always grants a life pen­sion to those he ennobles, in order that they may support the dignity to his credit.' With a cynical smile, he added, 'How­ever, it will not amount to a fortune, so you need not suppose that you will be able to increase greatly the blackmail you are already levying upon me.'

  She shrugged. 'About such paltry sums I have now become indifferent. As well as clothes I desire jewels which I know that you are in no position to pay for. But I have rccendy been offered a means by which I can make a mint of money. I intend to run a brothel.'

  Mission to Paris

  Roger dropped his fork. 'Lisala! You cannot mean that!'

  'Indeed I do. 'Tis, I am told, a most profitable occupation.'

  'But. .. but... all else apart, you are one of the Empress' ladies.'

  Lisala made a derisive gesture. 'Oh, Josephine! I am much wearied of dancing attendance on her. And, in any case, she is finished.'

  'What mean you?'

  'Surely you must have heard that the Emperor intends to put her from him?'

  Roger had heard. Everyone had known for a long time past that Napoleon's dearest wish was to found a dynasty. Although Josephine had had two children by her earlier marriage, she had failed to give him one. He had, therefore, come to believe himself to be incapable of becoming a father. This belief had been invalidated when one of his many temporary mistresses, Elenora Denuelle, had borne him a son, about the identity of whose father there could be no possible shadow of doubt. It was this that, dearly as he had come to love Josephine, had first put into his mind the idea of divorcing her.

  But if he was to take a new wife, nothing less could now satisfy him as a consort than a lady having the royal blood of one of the great hereditary ruling families. It was, therefore, not until the conference at Erfurt that he had disclosed his secret intention to anyone. There, as Roger and a few of Talley­rand's other intimates knew, Napoleon had contemplated ask­ing the Czar for the hand of his sister. Talleyrand, being strenu­ously opposed to a Russian alliance, had warned the Czar that the proposal was likely to be put forward; so, when Napoleon had broached the matter, Alexander had been ready to evade committing himself, by replying that the selection of a husband for his sister was entirely in the hands of her mother.

  This feeler and polite rebuff had been whispered about only among a very limited circle; but recently there had been much more widely-spread rumours that, when Napoleon had con­quered Austria, he intended to ask, as part of the peace terms, to be given a Hapsburg Princess as a bride.

  As one of Josephine's oldest and staunchest friends, Roger deplored the possibility that, for reasons of State, she might be deprived of the husband that she had come to love so deeply. But, knowing Talleyrand's pro-Austrian leanings, he saw the great statesman's hand in this. Abused and insulted by the Emperor as he had been six months earlier, he had re­gained considerable influence with him. And it could not be denied that a Franco-Austrian alliance fortified by an Imperial marriage would materially strengthen both countries.

  Staring hard-eyed at Lisala, Roger said, 'Naturally, I am aware that certain people would like to see the Empress re­placed by a Hapsburg Princess; but Austria is far from having been conquered yet.'

  Lisala shrugged. 'Whether Josephine stays or goes is all one to me. I intend to submit my resignation to her, and employ myself in more profitable activities.'

  'But a brothel!' Roger cried. 'You seek only to shock and horrify me for your amusement. You cannot possibly really mean that you intend to run a brothel.'

  'I do, and out of doing so I'll get even more amusement than seeing your face as it is at this moment. In brothels, as you must know...'

  'I do not know,' he cut in harshly. 'I entered one only once, when I was in my teens, then fled from it in disgust.'

  'Then I'll inform you. There are peepholes in the walls of all the rooms. Through them one can witness the peculiar games in which couples at times indulge. That will provide me with much entertainment. And, when I witness some gallant who performs with unusual vigour, I'll give him an assigna­tion to come another day and have me "on the house".'

  'You . . . you vile creature!' Roger burst out. 'Undertake this foul enterprise, and I vow I'll burn the place down with you in it.'

  'For t
hat you will have no opportunity, as it will be neither here in Vienna nor in Paris.' 'Where then?' 'That is my affair.'

  'Wherever it may be, I'll run you to earth. Yes, whatever it may cost me, I'll not submit to the ghastly humiliation of it becoming known that my wife is running a whorehouse. And it will become known. Satan has endowed you with too great a beauty for your identity not be bruited abroad in any city.'

  'In that you are mistaken. I am as anxious as yourself to keep this matter secret. I intend, from time to time, to return and inflict my company on you. Now that I am a Baroness, I shall find Court functions more enjoyable than ever.'

  'What you propose is impossible. From having been a mem­ber of the Court for above a year, your face is known to hun­dreds—nay, thousands of people. Inevitably some officer: French, German, Dutch, Italian, will visit your brothel, re­cognise you and tell others of your infamy.'

  'Again you are wrong.' Lisala smiled and shook her head. *While exercising my profession I mean to wear a black velvet mask with a long fringe. My body is beautiful enough to tempt any man I desire, without his seeing my face. In fact, a mask will prove an added seduction for such encounters. And, should a lover of the moment be so imprudent as to tear it off, I'll drive my stiletto between his ribs.'

  Roger could find no more to say. Short of killing her, there was no way in which he could prevent her carrying out her plan; and that he could not bring himself to do. Rising, he flung his glass of wine in her face, then left the room and the house.

  That night, the little sleep he got was at an inn, and next morning he sent a message to Berthier that he was ill after having eaten bad fish. For three days he did not go out, and ceaselessly pondered the problem of what he could do about having been cursed with such a wife. To that he could find no answer. Even making off to England was no longer a fully satisfactory solution, as he could not bear the thought that if Lisala was found out, the fine name he had made for himself in the French Army would for ever be besmirched. He could only endeavour to comfort himself with the possibility that Lisala would succeed in remaining incognito while pandering to her insatiable lust for sexual excitement.