Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07 (9 page)

The First Lord
nodded. “Yes. The sooner you have him vetted, the better. There should be
plenty of information available about a man of his rank and past political
activities. Get Vernon Kell to let you have all that is known about him. Of course,
his request to be given senior rank in the British Army is quite preposterous.
But he says that he is of British nationality and, if his heart is really in
the right place, other work can be found for him. In fact, I believe a man
having the qualities of this Duke de Richleau might prove invaluable to us.”

“You’ve hit the
nail on the head as usual,” boomed Sir Pellinore. “That’s why I asked him to
lunch.”

Ten
days after the masked ball at Dorchester House, four men sat round
a small table in a quiet corner of the smoking-room at the Carlton Club. They
were Sir Pellinore Gwaine-Cust, General Sir Henry Wilson, Sir Bindon Blackers
and the Duke de Richleau. They had just lunched together and were waiting to be
served with the liqueur brandies which they had ordered with their coffee.

The Duke had
already lunched with Sir Pellinore during the previous week, and had, moreover,
spent two long evening sessions with him, at which they had talked far into the
night in the library of the millionaire baronet’s big mansion, a stone’s throw
away in Carlton House Terrace. So they now had one another’s measure; but De
Richleau was meeting the other two men for the first time.

As he took from
his case, and lit, a long Hoyo de Monterrey cigar— a brand that he especially
favoured, and he was a connoisseur of no mean order in such matters—his
apparently casual glance rested on the face of first one then the other of his
new acquaintances, seeking to probe the real personalities that lay behind the
pleasant, carefree manner they had both displayed at the luncheon table.

The General was
a tall man with quick, humorous eyes, great vitality, and a hearty laugh. De
Richleau knew a little, although not much, about him. He was Director of
Military Operations at the War Office. He spoke French with great fluency, and
was said to be the only British officer who had succeeded in winning the
complete confidence of the French General Staff. Sir Bindon Blackers was slim
and round-shouldered, with a fine domed forehead from which the hair was
receding, and a large, fair fluffed-out moustache. About him, De Richleau knew
nothing except that he was the Foreign Office representative on the Committee
of Imperial Defence.

A dark-liveried
club servant of ecclesiastical mien reverently placed the brandies on the table
and silently withdrew. When they had all sniffed and sipped the
fine champagne
appreciatively, De Richleau broke the brief
silence by addressing the soldier and the diplomat.

“Gentlemen, I
have made my position plain to Sir Pellinore. and it might be as well if I do
so to you. He has asked me, on behalf of the British Government, to undertake
certain work abroad. I must state frankly that the mission proposed was not of
my seeking, and is not to my liking. I am by trade a soldier and, therefore,
accustomed to inflict such damage as I can on the enemy in the open. Having
held high rank in several foreign armies, I am well aware of the value of
secret intelligence; but never before have I visualized myself going out to get
it. I have always admired the courage of those who do; but I am sure you will
agree that to men of our standing the thought of attempting to steal papers in
a house to which one has been invited as a guest, of pandering to weak men’s
vices in order to blackmail or worm their secrets out of them, of seeking to
win the friendship and confidence of people with the deliberate intention of
betraying them, can only be repulsive.”

“Oh come!”
protested the General cheerfully. “You’re thinking of exceptional cases, Duke.
It’s not usually as bad as all that, and to my mind serving one’s country
justifies most things.”

De Richleau
nodded and rejoined a trifle coldly, “If it were not for that aspect of the
matter, General, I should not be here. Sir Pellinore has been at great pains to
point out to me that previous circumstances in my career, coupled with my
considerable knowledge of military matters, provide me with such unique
equipment for undertaking this mission with a fair chance of success, that I
should be little short of a traitor if I declined it.”

“So you would be,”
growled Sir Pellinore. “It’s you who told us that this feller Dissiwitch has
the power to dish out life or death for half the young manhood of Europe; and
you’re already in his confidence. What other Briton can claim as much, and so
stand a chance of heading him off—or, at least, finding out for us when he
means to spring his mine?”

“Dimitriyevitch,”
corrected the Duke affably. “Anyhow, it suffices for the moment that I have
agreed to take on this dirty work, granted one proviso. I insist on knowing the
big picture.”

“You hold the
threads of this affair, not we,” smiled Sir Bindon. “So I hardly see how we can
help you.”

“Oh, yes, you
can!” De Richleau smiled back. “At least, I am assuming that Sir Pellinore
brought General Sir Henry Wilson and yourself here to-day for that purpose. I
hold only one end of this tangled skein. Or perhaps it would be a better
metaphor to say that I am the man who has an opportunity to watch the hand that
holds the lighted match, but can see only a little way along the powder chain.
Whereas you can see where it leads, and are in a position to give a reasonable
forecast of the time, size, and immediate effects of the explosion when it
occurs. And it is on such matters that I require all the information you can
see your way to give me.”

Sir Henry
shrugged. “I honestly fail to see how our views on the opening moves in a
European war can have any bearing on your mission.”

“Then I will
tell you. My immediate task lies in Serbia, but I have no intention of
confining my activities to that country should the possibility of securing
valuable information prompt me to visit others. Among the numerous titles I
inherited is that of an Austrian Count, and I own a castle no great distance
from Vienna. My mother was a Russian, and her family are allied to the
Romanoffs by marriage. So I have powerful connections in both those countries.
I am also acquainted with the rulers of several minor German states, and have
often shot with them in their forests. In fact, there are few countries in
Europe where I do not know people of position, who could, if they would,
disclose to me secrets of some importance.”

“See what I meant?”
grunted Sir Pellinore, with a knowing look at the General.

Ignoring the
interruption, De Richleau went on: “But unless I know roughly what to expect my
opportunities will be robbed of a great part of their value.”

The General
nodded good-humouredly. He had been recalling his host’s parting broadside the
night before, when he and Sir Bindon had dined in Carlton House Terrace. Sir
Pellinore had boomed at him: “You’ve got to open up to this feller, Henry. I
tell you he’s a smasher. Never get another chance like it to learn how the
minds of the high-ups on the continent are working. I’ve had him vetted, and I’m
satisfied he’s straight. Had the devil’s own job to persuade him to work for
us. But now he’s agreed, he won’t stick at half measures: and if we’re to get
the best out of him, we’ve got to give him the right stuff to go on. Not vital
secrets, of course; but everything up the Staff College line; and on probable
enemy strategy, a bit beyond it. After all, that’s still only speculation and
we may have cause to modify our own views before the showdown. Dimthebitch is
the feller I want to know about first and foremost; but, if I’m any judge, De
Richleau’s capable of pulling all sorts of other rabbits out of the hat.
Anyhow, since he insists on a high-level survey of the big picture, you and
Bindon, here, have got to give it him. Understand?”

Sir Henry and
Sir Bindon had taken their departure in a far from happy frame of mind. Both
had long been accustomed to observing the strictest secrecy in all that concerned
their work, and they did not at all fancy the idea of discussing future
strategy and diplomacy with a foreign-born soldier of fortune. Nevertheless,
they both had great faith in Sir Pellinore’s judgment, and knew that he owed
his unique position behind the scenes of government largely to the fact that he
never even hinted at the existence of secret matters, unless he had excellent
cause to do so.

In consequence
they had come to to-day’s lunch party still inclined to exercise great caution,
but with open minds. Then, as the meeting had progressed, those quick minds of
theirs had moved forward to the same conclusion. Sir Pellinore was right; De
Richleau was a man who might render incalculably valuable services to Britain
if he were properly briefed. It was, therefore, their duty, short of disclosing
vital secrets, to take him into their confidence.

One quick glance
between Sir Bindon and the General was enough to assure the diplomat that they
were in agreement. Then he said:

“Very well,
Duke. What do you wish to know?”

“First, the
probable line-up.”

“If Serbia sets
the ball rolling, as you suggest, it will be Serbia. Russia, and the Empires of
France and Britain against Austria-Hungary and Germany.”

“What about
Italy?”

“As the third
partner in the Triple Alliance the Germans are no doubt counting on her; but a
secret clause in her treaty with the Central Powers releases her from any
obligation to enter a war against Great Britain, and we think she will invoke
it. Owing to her ambitions in the Trentino and Trieste area, she may later even
come in on our side, if we play our cards skilfully.”

“And the smaller
countries?”

“The probability
is that, with the exception of Belgium, they will stay out unless the struggle
is a prolonged one.”

“It will be,” grunted
the General.

“In that case,
Bulgaria, Rumania, Greece and Turkey will probably be drawn in. Each has its
pro-Entente and pro-German parties; so the side each takes will be determined
by the apparent prospects of victory of one or other of the great combinations
at the time that circumstances decide them to enter the conflict.”

“You mentioned
Belgium as an exception?”

“Yes. We have
reason to believe that, instead of attempting to force the great fortress
system that guards the Franco-German frontier, the Germans intend to adopt the
Schlieffen Plan. That involves the infringement of Belgian neutrality; and, of
course, as Britain is one of the signatories of the Treaty of London,
guaranteeing Belgium neutrality; such an act would commit us to sending an ultimatum
to Germany, quite apart from any obligation we may have to aid France.”

De Richleau
turned towards the General. “How many divisions do you estimate that Germany
will be able to put in the field for the opening phase?”

“When her
mobilization is completed, one hundred and ten,” replied Sir Henry promptly.

“And France?”

“Eighty-five.”

“However, the
French have only one frontier to defend, whereas Germany has two. That should
even matters up as far as the Western Front is concerned.”

With a quick
movement, Sir Henry knocked the ash off his cigar. “Sir Bindon has just
mentioned the Schlieffen Plan. As a military man, Duke, you will no doubt have
heard of that plan and be aware of its broad outline?”

“Yes. Its
essence is the immediate concentration of all available forces in the West;
then a gigantic turning movement for the invasion of France by way of Belgium.”

“Exactly! Field
Marshal Count von Schlieffen was completely ruthless and entirely logical. He
said that, even if Russia unexpectedly declared war and her cavalry overran the
provinces of northern Germany, even if the French took the offensive and
penetrated deep into Alsace-Lorraine, even if the invasion of Belgium meant
Britain going to France’s assistance—all these liabilities must be accepted in
order to bring overwhelming force against the French Army, and put France out
of the war in six weeks. However, now that Russia is definitely committed to
declare war immediately France does so, Germany cannot possibly leave her
northern frontier entirely undefended; but we believe she will adopt a
modification of the Schlieffen plan. Our estimate is that the Germans will
leave one-fifth of their forces to defend their Russian frontier and
concentrate the other four-fifths against France.”

“If you are
right eighty-eight German divisions will be opposed to eighty-five French. That
is not overwhelming force.”

“The Germans may
achieve it in the vital sector.”

“Why?”

“According to
the Schlieffen plan, less than a third of the German forces are to be disposed
along the Franco-German frontier. The key Belgium fortress of Liege is to be
seized by a
coup-de-main
immediately the order for mobilization is given.
Immediately the five railways radiating from it are under German control, the
greater part of the German Army is to debouch through Belgium and, in a
scythe-like movement, descend on Paris. Therefore, should the French forces be
more or less evenly distributed, they will find themselves outnumbered by about
three to one at the western end of their line.”