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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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BOOK: The Ka of Gifford Hillary
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After several false starts she drafted a letter in her own hand which apparently satisfied her. It was a fair length but, I suppose, as short as she could make it if she was to put over all the essential points which would explain the two violent deaths without involving herself in either. It was addressed to herself, and ran:

Ankaret, my love
,

At first I could not take seriously your confession that you have been flirting with Owen Evans. I thought you possessed better taste. But I was compelled to believe you this evening when you were driven to admit it by the necessity of asking me to get rid of him, because he assaulted and attempted to rape you when I was in London last Wednesday night
.

When I charged him with it in the lab he had the impudence to deny that it was assault. He boasted that you were a willing party, and maintained that you had told me of your affair with him only because you feared that the servants might forestall you in doing so, and that if I learned from them that he was your lover I might kick you out of the house
.

I suppose I was a fool to believe him. But the thought of him and you together drove me into a frenzy. I snatched up a steel rod and the next thing I knew was that I had killed him
.

There is not a hope if I stay and face my trial. At the very best it would mean a ruined life dragged out at Broadmoor. So I’ve decided to end it. I have kept some dope from the days when I was in India that is supposed to rev up the heart. If I swallow the lot and chuck myself into the Solent that should ensure me a pretty swift finish
.

If you keep your mouth shut, the reason that I killed Evans may not come out. So you had better destroy this. But I wanted you to know that now I’m in my right mind again, I’m sure that he lied to me about you
.

And that I still love you
.

Giff

Her brain had been several jumps ahead of mine, and I thought her skilful elaboration of the original plan truly masterly; particularly the new line about my having taken an overdose of some heart dope before diving off the pier. Actually I had never had any such stuff, either in India or elsewhere; but no one would be able to prove it, and this brilliant bit of improvisation would account for the lungs not being full of water if my body was recovered from the Solent. I began to have hopes that, after all, she would get away with it.

I could see now that the packet of letters she had brought in were from myself. Opening it up she began to glance through them, evidently with the object of refreshing her mind on the details of my calligraphy. Now and then she paused to read a passage, and after some minutes one of special tenderness so upset her that her face twisted grotesquely. I feared for a moment that she was about to break down and find herself unable to go through with the job, but she got quickly to her feet, poured herself another brandy and tossed it off. The neat spirit made her gasp and shudder, but it did its work, and with new resolution she sat down to the desk again.

Taking some sheets of the paper that I use for my private correspondence, she began to copy her draft letter in my own hand. At her fourth attempt she completed one that had it been produced in court would have been sworn to without hesitation by anyone familiar with my writing. Having written her own name and ‘Personal’ on an envelope she slipped the letter into it and stuck down the flap.

It was at that moment I heard a slight noise from the direction of the drawingroom. She had heard it too and, quickly pocketing the letter, turned to stare apprehensively in
that direction. The door, which she had left ajar, was pushed open and Johnny walked in.

Instantly, it struck me that here was one of those unforeseen occurrences that are said so often to wreck the most skilfully-laid plans and bring murderers to the scaffold. Ankaret believed that Johnny had gone out dancing, so would not come in before three or four o’clock in the morning. As he had told me his plans, I knew that he would be in much earlier; but when she mentioned to Evans that Johnny was staying in the house I had still supposed that they would have a clear field until well after midnight. Yet here he was, although it was not yet half-past eleven. If I had had any breath to hold I would certainly have held it as I waited to see how his untimely arrival would affect Ankaret’s chances of clearing herself.

I have already mentioned that I retained my big roll-top desk, in spite of its being rather ugly, because I could always pull the roller down and so save myself the bother of keeping it tidy. As usual it was littered with papers, some of which Ankaret had pushed aside to make a space to write on. As the door opened, in order to hide her draft letter and the three first forgery try-outs, she swiftly shuffled some of my papers over them. Then, evidently feeling that to be insufficient protection for the evidence of her guilt, she pulled the roller down and locked it.

Catching sight of her gesture as he entered, Johnny said politely, ‘I hope I haven’t disturbed you. I came in for a nightcap.’

‘No; not a bit.’ Her voice held a slight quaver, but I don’t think he noticed it, as he was looking somewhat distrait; and she added quickly, ‘Do help yourself. I only came down to hunt out an address that Giff said I would find here; and I’ve just come across it.’

With a word of thanks he walked over to the drink cabinet, fixed himself a large whisky and soda, and plumped down into the arm-chair near it, as she remarked:

‘You don’t usually get home from your evenings with Sue Waldron as early as this.’

‘No,’ he replied non-committally; and, stretching out his long legs, he stared with a worried frown at his feet.

Having recovered from her fright she gave him a puzzled
look and asked: ‘What’s the matter? Have you quarrelled with Sue?’

‘No,’ he repeated, and I formed the impression that although he was in some sort of trouble he had no intention of telling her what it was. Until the previous autumn he and Ankaret had been on excellent terms, but from the beginning of last winter, while her attitude to him had not changed, I had thought on several occasions that he had become a trifle stand-offish with her. His present uncommunicativeness confirmed the change that I had noticed and I wondered what could have caused it. In due course I was to learn.

After knocking back a good half of his drink, he asked:

‘Where’s Giff?’

‘Up in the lab with the Prof,’ she replied promptly. ‘They are trying out some new gadget. It’s something to do with photography, I think. Anyhow he said that it might be a long session, and that if anyone rang up they were not to be disturbed, as if the door was opened the light would get in and ruin everything.’

Again I metaphorically took off my hat to her for producing such a fast one, while Johnny said: ‘I see,’ in a disappointed tone. Then, finishing his drink, he asked: ‘May I have another?’

She nodded. ‘Of course; finish the bottle if you like. But Johnny, dear, what is wrong? You seem to be frightfully upset about something. Won’t you tell me what it is; then perhaps we’ll find some way in which I can help you.’

That was typical of Ankaret and the sort of thing that, despite her faults, made her so lovable. No woman could conceivably have had more on her mind than she had at the moment, yet she would not allow it to prevent her trying to comfort a friend who was in trouble.

Johnny helped himself again, gave her rather a shame-faced look, and said: ‘Well, I haven’t exactly quarrelled with Sue but I’ve had one hell of a row with her father.’

‘What about?’ Ankaret enquired.

He passed a hand worriedly over his fair, rather rebellious, hair. ‘It arose out of the Board Meeting that we held this afternoon. Giff sprang a pretty startling piece of policy on us, and in support of it he produced a mass of facts and figures
connected with Defence. After dinner, over the port, the Admiral tackled me about it, and as good as accused me of having put Giff up to this idea then briefed him for the meeting.’

‘And you hadn’t?’

Johnny’s blue eyes opened wide. ‘Good Lord, no! This stuff is dynamite—Top Secret and known only to a few dozen people outside the high-ups. But the devil of it is that I might have, because as a member of the Joint Planning Staff I am one of those few dozen. It’s our job to do the spade-work for the Chiefs of Staff, so we have to be in on all their secrets.’

‘Where did Giff get it, then?’

‘I haven’t a notion. There must have been a colossal leak somewhere; and to let half the things he said out of the bag would mean cashiering if it could be brought home to whoever did brief him. It is owing to the field being such a narrow one that makes the Admiral suspect me; and the old boy was hopping mad about it.’

Ankaret nodded. ‘One can hardly be surprised about that, seeing that if Giff’s proposal was adopted it might lead to the dissolution of the Navy.’

‘You know what took place at the Board Meeting, then?’ Johnny said, raising his eyebrows.

‘Yes. Giff told me about it before dinner.’

‘Then you’ll appreciate what a jam I’m in with the Admiral. He knows that, whether I briefed Giff or not, as an airman I am one hundred per cent behind what he plans to do. To the old boy that is little better than High Treason. After saying that he had half a mind to put the Security people on to enquiring into my reliability, he ordered me out of the house and forbade me ever to enter it again.’

‘Poor you. What rotten luck,’ said Ankaret sympathetically. ‘Does Sue know about this yet?’

‘Yes. Before leaving I collected her and we went out and sat in my car. We spent well over an hour together while I tried to explain matters. She accepted my word for it that I knew nothing of Giff’s intentions, but the Navy means nearly as much to her as it does to her old man; so she took mighty badly my admission that I would help to get it scrapped if I could. She just wouldn’t listen to reason, and before we parted
she told me that she would prefer not to see me again until I was willing to leave Navy matters to men like her father, who understood them.’

‘Don’t worry too much,’ Ankaret endeavoured to console him. ‘That she believes you is what really matters. The woman isn’t born yet who would sacrifice her lover for a question of strategy. I’m sure she’ll come round before long. Anyhow, you can talk it over with …’

I felt sure that now submerged in his problem her mind had temporarily blacked out about the events of the past two hours, and that she had been about to say ‘talk it over with Giff in the morning’. As it was she suddenly went deathly white and substituted’… we can talk it over again tomorrow.’

Fortunately he was once more staring unhappily at his feet, so he did not see the blood drain from her face; but when she added quickly: ‘Now, what about getting to bed,’ he looked up again, and replied:

‘If you don’t mind, I’d rather accept your offer of a third noggin of Scotch, and sit here for a while. I want to try to think out if there is not some way by which, without letting my side down, I could patch matters up with old Waldron.’

Ankaret glanced at the locked desk. It was evident to me that she was most reluctant to leave the room without retrieving the evidence of her forgery; but I could also see that she was just about all in. Forcing a smile, she said: ‘Good night’ to Johnny and walked through the drawingroom to the hall.

There she took the forged letter from her pocket and looked about her uncertainly. Perhaps she had momentarily forgotten the original plan to put it in the pocket of my smoking jacket and leave that, as though I had thrown it off before jumping into the water, on the end of the pier. Or perhaps she decided that with Johnny about it was too great a risk for her to leave the house again. Anyhow, after a moment’s hesitation she walked to the front door and put the letter in the letterbox.

Slowly and wearily she went upstairs. On the landing she paused for a moment to stare at the closed door leading to the laboratory; but she did not go in to collect my jacket, and had she done so I hardly know where she could have left it to better advantage, short of taking it down to the pier. After
all, I would not have been likely to have thrown it off in the house before going out to commit suicide, but I just might have done so before attacking Evans.

At last the terrible strain that Ankaret had been through was taking its toll of her. The effort required to appear normal during her ten minutes’ talk with Johnny, had exhausted her last reserves of will-power and control. Within a few moments her face had become drawn and haggard. Her steps were faltering as she reached her room and closed the door behind her. Still fully dressed she flung herself face down on the bed. For a while she remained silent and motionless. Then she stretched up a hand and switched out the light; but the blessed forgetfulness of sleep was as yet a long way from being granted to her. In an agony of distress she moaned:

‘Oh Giff, darling Giff; what shall I do without you?’ And after that anguished cry she began to choke with such awful rending sobs as one could expect to hear only from a woman whose heart is broken.

My own heart, or rather its spiritual counterpart, was so wrung that, since I was debarred from comforting her, I could not bear to remain in the room any longer. Withdrawing from it I passed downstairs and through the garden door out into the night.

At last I was alone. Now that the actions of others, fraught with such potent possibilities, and anxious speculations about the way their minds were working, no longer fully occupied my attention, I had become free to consider my own situation.

There could be no escaping the fact that I was dead, and although a witness to all that had passed, a silent and unseen one. There was no way in which I could help Ankaret during the ordeal which she must still go through when the deaths of myself and Evans were discovered. I could only pray for her. I now had no more power to influence the lives of the living than the stones of the terrace a few feet above which I floated; yet for some reason that I had no means of guessing, apart from the fact that I no longer had a body, I felt no more dead than I had two hours before.

BOOK: The Ka of Gifford Hillary
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