Dennis Wheatley - Contraband

In less than five minutes she had the two cases crammed to capacity with the things she thought would prove of the greatest use to him and carried them out to the sitting room where she put them all ready, just behind the door, with the little dressing case which was all she had been able to bring with her.

As she set them down she suddenly grew tense. She had caught the sound of cautious footsteps on the stairs. Gregory could not have got back so soon she felt sure.

A second later a key clicked in the lock. The door swung open and she saw the Limper standing there with two other men behind him.

Before she had time to scream he stepped into the room and had her covered with his automatic.

'So we were right, he said. 'The wife of the garage man in Birchington only overheard you say the word "Gloucester" when you knocked him up, but, as I had some of Sallust's letters from when we searched him on the marshes, I had a hunch you'd said Gloucester Road, and we'd find you here.'

Sabine stared at him with wide distended eyes; then backed slowly away before him. 'What d'you want?' she whispered, tonelessly.

'You,' the Limper smiled. 'The Big Chief's a light sleeper.

He heard the crunching of your feet on the gravel, looked out of his window, and saw you making your getaway from Quex a few hours ago. It wasn't difficult for him to find out from which garage in Birchington you got a car. He telephoned me at Ash Level to come up and get you.'

'Get me,' breathed Sabine, her face gone ashen.

'That's it,' said the Limper slowly. 'He was afraid that because we bumped off your boy friend you might have ratted on us and told tales to the police. We can't afford to have that sort of thing happening, you know, and it's lucky for you that you came here instead of going to Scotland Yard. Why did you come here, though as Sallust is dead?'

'I I thought I might get some of his papers, find out just how much he knew, which would have been useful to us,' lied Sabine.

'Who let you in? I got in with the keys we took off him the night before last but you couldn't have. Who let you in here?'

'His servant Rudd. He doesn't know yet that his master's dead and he knows me because I've been here once before. I said Sallust had telephoned me to come but he might not be here for an hour or two. Then I sent Rudd off to bed.'

'I see; so that's the way of it, but if you had this bright idea of collecting Sallust's papers why didn't you tell the Chief what you meant to do?'

Sabine suddenly straightened herself. 'I am answerable to him and not to you.'

'Got the papers?'

'I'd just finished searching the place: there is nothing here that matters. He evidently keeps any notes he has somewhere else.'

'Right then. We'll be moving. I don't believe your story and I doubt if the Chief will either; but he's mighty anxious to see you again and put you through it. Come on; get downstairs to the car.'

Sabine hesitated only a second. Gregory would be returning soon now. How could he possibly overcome three armed men if he was taken by surprise by them on entering his sitting room. They believed him dead, but if they found that their last attempt upon him had failed they were capable of shooting him out of hand, and they had silencers upon their automatics. The thought of trying to explain her movements under the steady gaze of Lord Gavin's cold soulless eyes, terrified her; but Gregory's life lay in the balance.

When he drew up before the house a few minutes later a large car was just disappearing round the corner of the street. Upstairs he found the bags packed and ready; but no sign of Sabine. He called aloud for her but there was no response. The flat was empty. With a bitter, hopeless feeling of distress he suddenly concluded that, for some incomprehensible reason, she had changed her mind and left him once again.

20

The Terrible Dilemma

For a moment Gregory tried to cheat himself by the thought that she might have slipped out of the house on some errand but even the dairies and fruit shops were not yet open. If she had wished to telephone the instrument stood there on a low table. He could think of no possible reason which might have caused her to leave the flat; except that she must be so frightened of Gavin Fortescue that her courage had failed her at the last moment and she had decided to go back to him.

He threw himself down on the sofa and dropped his head between his hands. While Sabine had been with him he had been buoyed up by the joy of her nearness and the need for new activities with the world opening wide before them both as they flew towards the rising sun out of England. Now, the terrible strain of the last few days was beginning to tell on his iron constitution.

Except for the packed suitcases and the crumpled bed, where Sabine had been sleeping when he arrived, her presence there might have been a dream. He was faced again by exactly the same problem as that with which he had battled on his way back from Scotland Yard an hour and a half earlier. Should he risk wrecking the whole of the police campaign by going down to Quex Park and either cajoling or forcing Sabine to cross the Channel with him, before she was arrested, or must he take a chance upon being able to get her out of trouble later; so that the police might have a free hand to round up the whole of Gavin Fortescue's organisation in one swift move.

If smuggling only had been concerned he would not have hesitated for a second but have gone to his car and driven down into Kent right away. It was Sir Pellinore's insistence that Gavin Fortescue's fanatic hatred of Britain would lead him to use his fleet to import numbers of agitators and saboteurs, without the knowledge of the immigration authorities, which perturbed Gregory so seriously.

Of course, that, might not occur until September but, on the other hand, the events of the last few days had probably rattled Gavin Fortescue badly. The affair with Wells in Deauville, just a week ago this coming night, had informed him that the police were on his track; the Limper's capture of two spies on Romney Marshes, that they were hot on his trail. It was doubtful if Sabine would be able to get back to Quex Park before he was up; so he might well suspect that her midnight absence had been caused by a journey to London to lay any information against him.

The thought of what would happen to her if that occurred made Gregory momentarily feel sick and giddy; but Sabine was clever. On the journey back her quick wits would surely devise some plausible explanation to meet Gavin's inquiries if her absence from the Park had been discovered.

In any case, it seemed that so shrewd a man as Gavin Fortescue would have seen the red light and would, therefore, bring his operations to a close, either that coming night or the next; before the new moon came in. On one or other of them the chances were he would land those men, who might do such incalculable harm to the peace and prosperity of Britain,

Between the two necessities for preventing that dire calamity and saving Sabine from prison Gregory rocked mentally as he sat with his head buried in his hands. It was the most distressing problem he had ever had to face and he could reach no definite decision.

At last he got slowly to his feet and began to ease his clothes from his sore back and chest. The police net would not close until the following night at the earliest: that fact alone seemed reasonably certain. Therefore, he still had a good twelve hours in front of him before he need make the final plunge one way or the other.

Ordinarily he was a man of quick decisions, but in this case he felt the old adage 'sleep on it' was true wisdom. A few hours of blessed oblivion would recruit his strength for whatever desperate part he was called upon to play that coming night. He would keep his appointment with Marrowfat at the Yard at 11 o'clock that morning, and only then, when he was in the possession of any further information which the police might have obtained, decide definitely upon his future plans.