Dangerous Inheritance (48 page)

‘In your present life you have many years behind you, my son. It is understandable that you should be weary; but accompany me back to my room to rest in comfort. Or, if you wish, we shall be happy to receive you here as our guest and provide you with a room of your own for the night.'

‘I thank you, Father,' the Duke replied, ‘but it is necessary that I keep a vigil here, perhaps for many hours. And the time has come when I must tell you that, besides my jewels, this evening I brought another thing to this illustrious shrine.' As he spoke he opened the string bag that he had been carrying all the time, took out the package it contained, carefully removed the cotton wool, held up the hairbrush, and went on:

‘I doubt, Father, if, in your secluded life, you have ever seen anything like this; so I must tell you about it. In the first World War, soon after trench warfare started, there were no such things as Mills grenades, so we made our own bombs to throw into the trenches of the enemy. We did so by tying slabs of gun cotton, with a fuse inserted, to pieces of wood. This is a similar contraption, but instead of gun cotton, the square slab you see attached to this hairbrush back is of modern plastic and a much more powerful explosive.'

The High Priest stared at him. ‘I do not understand, my son.'

‘Then I must enlighten you, Father,' the Duke replied with a smile. ‘I seek your aid to restore my friends to liberty. Either you will give it or, with great reluctance, I shall feel compelled to blow this Temple, the Sacred Tooth, yourself, and all else that is in it straight up to Heaven.'

‘My son, my son, you have taken leave of your senses,' said the High Priest quickly. ‘To do as you threaten would be the most terrible sacrilege. A devil must have entered into you.'

‘No, Father. Believe me, I am as sane as you are. I realise, too, that it would take me many lives to redeem myself from such a crime. But that is the price I am prepared to pay, rather than allow my friends to be arbitrarily deprived of their present incarnations.'

‘But in that, my son, there is nothing I can do to help you.'

‘Yes, Father, there is. You can speak on the telephone to those in temporal authority over us. You will tell them that unless they grant the prisoners a free pardon and provide them with all facilities for leaving the country at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, the most sacred relic in the whole Buddhist world will have ceased to exist. It has been the symbol of truth and righteousness for over two thousand years. Your people succeeded in preserving it from the fanatical Portuguese, and the Dutch; the British in their wisdom, having captured it, restored it to you. Is it now, after all these centuries, to be destroyed because your Government will not release four prisoners who have not yet been proven guilty of the crimes of which they are accused? I trust not.

‘And may I add, Father, your government can save its face by making public the story of myself and my friends as I have told it to you—the d'Azavedos' incitement of the Tamils to kill us at Olenevka, the lies by which they illegally retained those jewels for a year after they should have been handed over, their plot to bring about my death by their cobra, the finding of Vinala Fernando's remains, and the murder of Mirabelle de Mendoza. Regarded in sequence, all this provides such a damning chain of circumstantial evidence that no-one could doubt Lalita d'Azavedo to be deserving of death, and a justification for a clement Government to refrain from pressing the charges against my friends.'

‘I must retire. I must think on this,' said the High Priest. Then, carrying himself with dignity, he walked out of the shrine.

It was over an hour before he returned and said, ‘I have spoken on the telephone to Colombo. They will not agree and have instructed me to send for the police to arrest or, if need be, shoot you.'

‘That is regrettable,' said the Duke, ‘and I beg you, Father, to save yourself by leaving the vicinity of the Temple before the police arrive; for I must tell you what will happen.' Lifting the hairbrush he pointed to the protruding point that looked like that of a Biro pencil. ‘This is the detonator. It contains fulminate of mercury. It will go off if it receives even a slight jar. In
my corner here the police cannot seize me and, should they shoot me, I shall automatically drop this hand-made grenade. No trace of myself, the police, you if you are sufficiently ill-advised as to remain here, or the Sacred Tooth, will ever then be recovered.'

While the High Priest appeared to consider this, he held the Duke's eyes with his. But de Richleau guessed at once that he was now trying to hypnotise him and, fearing that the priest might prove the more powerful, averted his gaze.

After a few minutes the High Priest gave up and said, ‘Then I shall leave you here until you come to your senses.'

‘For both our sakes, and that of this, the most sacred of Buddhist relics in the whole world, I pray that you will not,' the Duke retorted swiftly. ‘You must be aware, Father, that at my age and with my infirmities there must come a time when I can no longer remain a menace. This compels me to give you a time limit. Unless by three o'clock you can give me an assurance that the Government agrees to my requests I shall have no alternative but to blow up myself and the Temple.'

Again the High Priest left him, and this time was away for very much longer. During his absence de Richleau became terribly tired, but he summoned all the resources of his will to keep his eyes wide open.

When the High Priest at last returned he said, ‘The Lord Buddha smiles upon your courage; and in Colombo those young in incarnations bow to his will. It is to be assumed that you have confided your intentions to others, and for it to become public that the government had allowed the Sacred Tooth to be destroyed rather than agree to release four criminals would bring about a revolution in which its members would perish. At a special meeting of the Cabinet, called an hour ago, it was agreed that your friends should be set at liberty.'

De Richleau gave a heavy sigh of relief, which hid the upsurge of triumph that ran through him, and replied, ‘Father, for your aid in this I can never thank you sufficiently, but I will remember you in my prayers. May I now suggest that you should again telephone and ask for it to be arranged that the prisoners, with papers in order to permit of their departure, should be taken
to the Katunayake airport by eight o'clock this morning. And that you will also telephone Mr. Richard Eaton at the Queen's Hotel here and ask him to bring his car round for us.'

‘For us?' The High Priest raised his eyebrows.

‘Yes, dear Father,' de Richleau smiled. ‘I would trust Your Serenity without limit, but not the Government of this island. Yet, having saved the Tooth, I can hardly think that they would be willing to risk its High Priest being blown to fragments. If I travelled alone to the airport they might be tempted to assassinate me. You will, I am sure, see the wisdom of informing them that you are doing me the honour to see me and my friends take our departure from your country.'

The High Priest returned his smile. ‘My son, it shall be as you wish. And I count you wise to require this very sensible precaution.'

Again the Duke was left for a long time on his own, from which he rightly judged that the authorities had counted on dealing summarily with him as soon as he and his bomb were a safe distance from the Temple, and that the High Priest was having difficulty in persuading certain people in Colombo that in this matter they must resign themselves to defeat.

Time drifted on, but at last the High Priest returned and said, ‘Those young in incarnations were very loath to allow discretion to dominate anger in their discussions. I regret that so long has elapsed before they made up their minds and telephoned their decision to me. But all is agreed and I have just sent to the Queen's Hotel for Mr. Eaton. You must now, my son, be greatly fatigued. I beg you to accept from me some refreshment.'

Suppressing a groan as he tensed his muscles the old Duke struggled to his feet, and said, ‘I thank you, Father; and I would be grateful for some fruit and a mild stimulant.'

They left the shrine together and went along to the High Priest's sanctum. An attendant novice was sitting there cross-legged in contemplation while awaiting the return of his master. He was sent outside to watch for the car. Then the two old gentlemen shared one of those gloriously-scented pineapples
that can be grown only in Ceylon, and drank a brew of superlatively fine tea.

When the novice announced the arrival of the car, the High Priest put on an outer robe and they went down to the street. There de Richleau presented Richard to him and said, ‘His Serenity's intercessions have saved those we love, and he is doing us the honour to accompany us to the airport.' Holding up the hairbrush he added, ‘But this is a bomb that will explode if it is dropped, so it would be well for you to drive with care lest in an accident we are all blown to Kingdom Come.'

Richard could only marvel, and stammer his thanks to the High Priest, as he and the Duke got into the back of the car. Two minutes later they were on their way. With great caution Richard drove them through the darkness until dawn came up, and soon afterwards they arrived safely at Katunayake.

The others were not yet there, but the High Priest was received with great deference. Richard sat in silence, still wondering what had taken place, while the two old men placidly carried on a discussion that lasted for nearly two hours about the true meaning of ‘Nirvana'. At last the prisoners, accompanied by a police escort, were brought in. Then Marie Lou, Max and van Goens arrived. De Richleau only smiled at them, told them that they must refrain from questioning him and continued his discussion with the High Priest about the hereafter.

There were no formalities and a few minutes later they were led out to the aircraft. The Duke, still nursing his bomb, said to the High Priest, ‘You will oblige me, Father, by telling these people that should any attempt be made to machine-gun the aircraft as it leaves the ground, our pilot will have had instructions to bring it round, so that my bomb can be dropped on the airport building.'

The ready smile of the High Priest came again. ‘I will do so. You deserve your triumph and I rejoice in it. Now, as we part, it should not be as father and son, but as brothers who walk side by side on the path upwards towards the Eternal Light.'

Solemnly the two old men kissed one another on both cheeks, then de Richleau and his friends went on board the aircraft.

Five minutes later they were airborne and on their way to England. The Duke was in a forward seat with Marie Lou next to him. Turning his head he said to Fleur, who was sitting behind her mother, ‘Do not forget, my child, to make over Olenevka to Nicholas van Goens. He has been a good friend to us, and I am happy to think that in this way we shall at last be rid of my disastrous inheritance.'

After his long day and night he was utterly exhausted. He had used up every ounce of the energy that remained to him. Now that he had saved those he loved reaction swiftly set in. He gave a groan and his chin fell forward on to his chest.

In alarm Marie Lou cried, ‘Oh Greyeyes, are you all right?

He roused himself to say a little thickly, ‘Yes … my dear. But I am … again about to set out on … on the interesting journey. All… all of us will meet again because … because we are bound by love.'

As he spoke Simon saw that the hairbrush was slipping from his grasp. Reaching forward he clutched it.

De Richleau roused again and gave a faint chuckle. ‘Don't …. don't worry, my son. It… it's only a piece of soap… and a pencil.'

DENNIS WHEATLEY

Dennis Wheatley (1897 – 1977) was an English author whose prolific output of stylish thrillers and occult novels made him one of the world's best-selling writers from the 1930s through the 1960s.

Wheatley was the eldest of three children, and his parents were the owners of Wheatley & Son of Mayfair, a wine business. He admitted to little aptitude for schooling, and was expelled from Dulwich College, London. In 1919 he assumed management of the family wine business but in 1931, after a decline in business due to the depression, he began writing.

His first book,
The Forbidden Territory
, became a bestseller overnight, and since then his books have sold over 50 million copies worldwide. During the 1960s, his publishers sold one million copies of Wheatley titles per year, and his Gregory Sallust series was one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming's James Bond stories.

During the Second World War, Wheatley was a member of the London Controlling Section, which secretly coordinated strategic military deception and cover plans. His literary talents gained him employment with planning staffs for the War Office. He wrote numerous papers for the War Office, including suggestions for dealing with a German invasion of Britain.

Dennis Wheatley died on 11th November 1977. During his life he wrote over 70 books and sold over 50 million copies.