Dennis Wheatley - The Devil Rides Out

‘It is quite simple, my dear fellow. Immediately I learned from you that Madame D’Urfe was leaving Claridges for the Sabbat at four o’clock, I realised that in her we had a second line of inquiry. Having promised to meet you at Pangbourne, I couldn’t very well follow her myself, so I got in touch with an ex-superintendent of Scotland Yard named Clutterbuck, who runs a Private Inquiry Agency.’

‘But I thought you said we must handle this business on our own,’ Rex protested.

‘That is so, and Clutterbuck has no idea of the devilry that we are up against. I only called him for the purpose of tracing cars and watching people, which is his normal business. After I had explained what I wanted to him he arranged for half a dozen of his assistants to be in readiness with motor-cycles. Then I took him round to Claridges in order to point the old woman out to him. As luck would have it, I spotted the Albino that we saw at the party last night come out at half past three and drive off in the Yellow Sports Sunbeam, so that gave us a third line, and Clutterbuck sent one of his men after him. The Countess left in the Green Daimler a good bit after four, and that’s why I was delayed in getting down to Pangbourne. Clutterbuck trailed her in his own car, and directly we knew that she was making for the west, sent the rest of his squad ahead in order to pick her up again if by any chance he lost her. That is how the reports of the movements of the two cars came through to me.’

‘How about Mocata? He was at Claridges when Tanith phoned the old woman, round about half past one!’

‘Unfortunately, he must have left by the time I came on the scene, but it doesn’t matter, because he is certain to be with the rest.’

Rex grinned. ‘It was a pretty neat piece of staff work.’

The few miles across the Plain were soon eaten up, and the Duke had scarcely finished giving Rex particulars of his campaign when they reached the lonely windswept cross-roads half a mile south of Chilbury. A car was drawn up at the side of the road and near it a group of half a dozen men with motor cycles stood talking in low voices. As the Hispano was brought to a standstill, a tall, thin man left the group and came over to De Richleau.

‘The persons you are wanting are in the big house on the far side of the village, sir,’ he said. ‘You can’t miss it because the place is surrounded by trees, and they are the only ones hereabouts.’

‘Thank you,’ De Richleau nodded. ‘Have you any idea how many people have arrived for this party?’

‘I should think a hundred or so at a rough guess. There are quite fifty cars parked in the grounds at the back of the house, and some of them had two or three occupants. Will you require my assistance any further?’

‘Not now. I am very pleased with the way you have handled this little affair, and should I need your help later on, I will get in touch with you again.’

Rex nudged the Duke just as he was about to dismiss Clutterbuck. ‘If there’s a hundred of them, we won’t stand an earthly on our own. Why not keep these people? Eight or nine of us might be able to put up a pretty good show!’

‘Impossible,’ De Richleau replied briefly, while the detective eyed the two of them with guarded interest, wondering what business they were engaged upon but satisfied in his own mind that, since Rex had suggested retaining him, he had not lent himself to anything illegal. ‘If there’s nothing else I can do then, sir,’ he said, touching his hat, ‘I and my men will be getting back to London.’

‘Thank you,’ De Richleau acknowledged the salute. ‘Good night.’ As the detective turned away, he let out the clutch of the Hispano.

With the engine just ticking over, they slipped through the silent village. Most of the cottages were already in darkness. The only bright light came from the tap-room of the tiny village inn, while the dull glow from curtained windows in one or two of the upper rooms of the houses showed that those inhabitants of the little hamlet who were not already in bed would very shortly be there.

To the south of the road, on the far side of the village, they came upon a thick belt of ancient trees extending for nearly a quarter of a mile and, although no house was visible behind the high stone wall that shut them in, they knew from Clutterbuck’s description that this must be the secret rendezvous.

A chalky lane followed the curve of the wall where it left the main road and, having driven a hundred yards along it, they turned the car so that it might be in immediate readiness to take the road again, and parked it on a grassy slope that edged the lane.

‘As the Duke alighted, he pulled out a small suitcase. ‘These are the results of my morning’s research at the British Museum,’ he said, opening it up.

Rex leaned forward curiously to survey the strange assortment of things the case contained : a bunch of white flowers, a bundle of long grass, two large ivory crucifixes, several small phials, a bottle—apparently of water—and a number of other items; but he stepped quickly back as a strong, pungent, unpleasant odour struck his nostrils.

De Richleau gave a grim chuckle. ‘You don’t like the smell of the Asafoetida grass and the Garlic flowers, eh? But they are highly potent against evil my friend, and if we can only secure Simon they will prove a fine protection for him. Here, take this crucifix.’

‘What’ll I do with it?’ Rex asked, admiring for a moment the beautiful carving on the sacred symbol.

‘Hold it in your hand from the moment we go over this wall, and before your face if we come upon any of these devilish people.’

While De Richleau was speaking, he had taken a little plush box from the suitcase, and out of it a rosary from which dangled a small, gold cross. Reaching up, he hung it about Rex’s neck, explaining as he did so: ‘Should you drop the big one, or if it is knocked from your hand by some accident, this will serve as a reserve defence. In addition, I want you to set another above a horseshoe in your aura.’

‘How d’you mean?’ Rex frowned, obviously puzzled.

‘Just imagine if you can that you are actually wearing a horseshoe surmounted by a crucifix on your forehead. Think of it as glowing there in the darkness an inch or so above your eyes. That is an even better protection than any ordinary material symbol, but it is difficult to concentrate sufficiently to keep it there without long practice, so we must wear the sign as well.’ The Duke placed a similar rosary round his own neck and took two small phials from the open case. ‘Mercury and Salt,’ he added. ‘Place one in each of your breast pockets!’ Rex did as he was bid. ‘But why are we wearing crucifixes when you put a swastika on Simon before?’ he asked.

‘I was wrong. That is the symbol of Light in the East, where I learned what little I know of the Esoteric Doctrine. There, it would have proved an adequate barrier, but here, where Christian thoughts have been centred on the Cross for many centuries, the crucifix has far more potent vibrations.’

He took up the bottle and went on: ‘This is holy water from Lourdes, and with it I shall seal the nine openings of your body that no evil may enter it at any one of them. Then you must do the same for me.’

With swift gestures, the Duke made the sign of the cross in holy water upon Rex’s eyes, nostril’s, lips, etc., and then Rex performed a similar service for him.

De Richleau picked up the other crucifix and shut the case. ‘Now we can start,’ he said. ‘I only wish that we had a fragment of the Host apiece. That is the most powerful defence of all, and with it we might walk unafraid into hell itself. But it can only be obtained by a layman after a special dispensation, and I had no time to plead my case for that today.’