Dennis Wheatley - Vendetta in Spain

As soon as the door had closed behind him, he said, 'My dear, I've been quite worried about you. What is this mystery? Is there anything I can do to help?'

Her face remained expressionless but her big dark eyes held his as she slowly shook her head. 'No, Armand. There is nothing that any of us can do. Jose is dead.'

19

When the Heart is Young

For a moment de Richleau stared at her, hardly believing that he could have heard her aright, but she nodded and repeated, 'Jose is dead. Ruiz brought me the news on Friday night. When I got your message that you were commanded to lunch at the Palace on Saturday, so would bathe from the Casino beach instead of here that morning, I was glad that I didn't have to see you then. I needed a little time to get over the shock.'

'But . . . But,' he stammered, 'why has no announcement been made? Why this morning's bathing party when the house should be in mourning? And you! Damn it, Gulia, you are dressed in pale blue!'

'Come and sit down,' she said, 'and I'll tell you about it.'

As he took a chair opposite to her, she went on, 'When Jose was out one day catching butterflies on the banks of the Amazon he was attacked by a puma and terribly mauled. With him he had only Patricio Lopex, the valet who has looked after him for years, and the Brazilian crew of the river boat he had hired for his expedition. Patricio and the natives did everything for him that they could, but before they could even get him to a township he died from his wounds. For most of the time, though, he remained conscious, and he was terribly worried about the Bank.'

Gulia paused for a moment and asked for a cigarette. The Duke gave her one and lit it. Then she resumed. 'He had devoted his life to it, and from being quite a small private concern he made it into a great one. Everyone knew that he really was the Bank - its heart and brain - and when he realized that he was dying he was worried that the news of his death might cause a run on it.'

'I can understand that,' de Richleau nodded. 'From your note I got the idea that the Bank was faced with some kind of crisis. But not, of course, the sort that Jose's death might bring about.'

'He dictated a letter to Patricio and signed it. The letter was to Ruiz and in it he said that he wished the news of his death to be suppressed for at least two months. During them Ruiz was to call in all doubtful loans and convert all speculative securities into gold. By these means, when the news of his death was eventually made public the reserves of the Bank would be so large that no run on it could possibly affect its solvency. He then swore Patricio to secrecy and gave him the money to pay off the boat's crew, with three months' wages in advance if they swore on the Cross that they would not leave their native village for that time. Patricio promised to come home in the first fast ship he could find and he arrived in Madrid on Wednesday.'

'I see,' said the Duke after a moment. 'So you are all having to continue to live as though you did not know that Jose was dead. What an extraordinary situation.'

'It is. But what else can we do? Ruiz says that but for Jose's thought for us as he lay dying, in view of the Moroccan crisis that is already rocking the financial stability of the country, the Bank might well have had to close its doors - anyhow temporarily. As it is, if the secret of Jose's death can be kept for six or eight weeks he feels no doubt about being able to face any demands when it is announced.'

'How many people are in the secret?'

'Only Patricio, Ruiz and myself; and, of course, when Ruiz next comes here you must in no circumstances let him know that I have confided our secret to you. We both promised that we would keep it absolutely to ourselves.'

'I fully understand that. But did Ruiz not even tell his wife?'

'No. Maria Alfonsine would have been safe enough in herself, but she confides everything to Dona Isabella; and she is a born gossip. Besides, it was not necessary. Ruiz had to tell me. After all, I am Jos6's widow. If he had not obtained my consent to concealing Jose's death for the time being, and carrying on, I might have made great trouble for him later.'

For a moment de Richleau was silent, then he said slowly, 'Yes, you are Jose's widow.'

She did not smile, but came abruptly to her feet. 'Yes. I am no longer Jose's wife. I am his widow. That makes a difference, doesn't it?'

At the same moment the Duke stood up. His grey eyes were shining as he exclaimed, 'By God it does!' Next second she was weeping in his arms.

Holding her close, he murmured, 'Don't cry, my love, don't cry. Naturally it has been a great shock to you, but. . .'

'It's not that,' she sobbed. 'Not his death, although ... although I hate the thought that it was . . . such a horrid one. I . . . I'm crying from happiness. Oh Armand, you can have no idea how much I love you.'

'And I you.' Turning up her face to his he kissed her tenderly on the lips. She threw an arm round his neck and pressed her mouth to his, so that the caress became fierce, passionate, long, breathless.

As their lips at last parted, he whispered, 'When, darling? When?'

'Tonight,' she whispered back. 'Out of respect for Jose I decided not to see you until this evening; but the past three days have seemed like a week.'

'Oh blessed night! How I wish I could hurry the sun in going down! But wait!' His glowing face suddenly became clouded by a frown. 'It is nearly half past five already. To return to my hotel, pack all my things and return here could not be done in less than two hours. For me to arrive out of the blue and move in just before dinner is going to look very strange to Maria Alfonsine. That is, unless you have already told her that you have invited me to stay here, and we think up some plausible excuse for my arriving at such a late hour.'

Gulia shook her head. 'I've had a lot of time to think about us over the week-end, and I decided that it would be wiser if you did not come to stay. We're going to be so happy, darling; so happy. We'd never be able to conceal it if we were together all day as well as at night. Remember, no one else here knows that I am a widow and now free to do as I like. And although Maria Alfonsine is so straight-laced, I'd hate to hurt her by giving her grounds to suspect that I was being unfaithful to Jose in his absence.'

'How shall we manage then? I could take rooms for us under a false name in some small hotel, and come out here about midnight in a carriage to fetch you.'

'No, that would be much too risky. I'm so well known in San Sebastian that any servant at an hotel might recognize me.'

'Could you creep down, then, when everyone is asleep, and let me in?'

Again she shook her head. 'That's no good either. Going to and fro from my room would mean passing that of Maria Alfonsine and I know she sleeps lightly. The boards in the corridor creak and she would be certain to hear us. We might get away with it for one night but not as a regular thing.'

'But, beloved; you said tonight, and . .

'And I mean it,' she gave a low laugh. 'As I told you, I've had lots of time to think everything out. Kiss me again, then I'll show you how we'll manage.'

After a long embrace she tidied her hair in a mirror, then led him out of the house and round to the back of the stables. Backing on to one corner of them was a large shed. As she opened its door he saw that it housed all the garden implements and on hooks along one wall there was a twelve-foot ladder. Pointing to it she said:

'All you have to do is to carry that fifty yards and set it up beneath my window. Do you remember which it is? I leant out of it that night you fought with Sanchez in the lily pool, half-crazy with fear that he had done you some serious injury.'

He smiled. 'Shall I ever forget. It's the big bay window on the left-hand side of the porch. And your plan, dearest, could not be better. At what hour am I permitted to enter Paradise?'