Dennis Wheatley - The Rising Storm

At midnight she woke him, and shortly afterwards he joined her in the lofty studio-sitting-room, one end of which was curtained off to conceal all the paraphernalia of her painting. In the other, in front of the fireplace, a small table was set for supper. As they sat down to it, she said:

"Tell me now, Roger, what led you to this ghastly act, that must for ever bring the awful vision of his dead body between us, unless you can once and for all dispel it"

Georgina and Droopy were the only people from whom Roger had never concealed his secret activities, so; as they slowly ate their supper, he told her of his endeavours to break the Family Compact, then of Mr. Pitt's blasting of him that evening, and his reply.

It was the first time that they had ever eaten a meal together with­out laughter, and now Georgina did not even smile, as she remarked: "You are right in that you have served your country well by these extraordinary means, and risked your life in doing so; for had you not handled matters with great skill and daring the French authorities would have had you tried and executed for murder. What had the Prime Minister to say on your proving to him that you have sacrificed all else in a fanatical devotion to your duty?"

"He asked me for the Letter of Marque I carried; struck out the words 'of Nootka Sound', altered one other, initialled the alterations and handed it back to me; so that it now reads:

“Mr. Roger Brook knows my mind on this matter, and is commissioned by me to speak upon it."

Georgina's unsmiling eyes widened. " 'Tis then transformed into an open warrant, empowering you during the course of your work to speak in his name on any subject. It shows that you have now won his complete trust in your judgment, 'Tis a remarkable achievement, Roger, and I am glad for you in that."

"I thank you." He returned her solemn glance. " 'Tis even more a testimony to the greatness of his own mind, in that he has overlooked my many shortcomings and paid regard only to the final outcome of my mission. But I'll find no joy in his noble gesture to me unless I can convince you too that I played no dishonourable part."

She continued to regard him dubiously, as she said: "In so grave an affair of State I can understand that the life of a single man could not be allowed to affect the issue; but 'twas the personal relationship you bore him, Roger, that made your crime so peculiarly horrible. Surely, if a man had to die to win your popularity with the mob, you could have played the part of blind Fate and selected a victim at ran­dom, instead of seizing on the chance to slake your hatred of the husband of your mistress?"

" 'Twas no calmly reasoned plan. The thought that I might achieve my country's ends over Don Diego's dead body came to me only as a flash of inspiration while we stood together on that balcony. But had I had time to make deliberate choice of a victim I greatly doubt if I could have brought myself to throw an innocent person to that pack of wolves. I had in any case come there to kill him."

"I do not understand you, Roger." Georgina shook her head. "Diego was as innocent as myself of the Condesa Isabella's death. She did not even die by poison; she was butchered by those cut-throat robbers."

"Say hired assassins, rather! Don Diego planned her murder. I am convinced of that. When I reached the Embassy, I was still too distraught to do more than imply that I knew him to be guilty, and after—after what then befell I had no opportunity for any explanation with you. Instead of mumming the part of blind Fate, as you suggest, I took the role of blindfold Justice. He raised the mob to kill her. I raised the mob to kill him."

"What proof have you of this monstrous charge you make against him?"

Roger spread out his hands. " 'Tis the very lack of it that has filled me with such despondency at the thought of trying to make my case with you. I have naught to offer but the word of another person, now also dead, and that you may well consider prejudiced by hatred and suspicion of Don Diego. If you refuse to believe it there is no more that I can say. I can but vouch for the story as it was told to me, and pray that you may judge, as I did, that 'tis so circumstantial as to have the ring of truth."

Leaning forward across the table, he went on earnestly: "In recent months there have been numerous attacks on religious institutions in Paris for the purpose of robbery; and that excuse served for the one which was made on the night of Tuesday the eighteenth, on the Con­vent of the Carmelites. I had a rendezvous there with Isabella at ten o'clock the following morning, and knew naught of it till then.

"On my arrival I found National Guard sentries posted on the broken doors, and at first they refused me admittance. But I insisted on seeing the Mother Superior, and when I declared myself a friend of Isabella this is what she told me.

"Shortly after two in the morning they were aroused and alarmed by a battering on the doors. By a previous arrangement made in case of such an emergency she and her nuns at once gathered in the chapel; but Isabella, being a lay visitor, did not know of it and remained in her room. The doors were burst in, but the attackers numbered less than a dozen ruffians. They despoiled the sacristry of the sacred ves­sels, seized all other articles of any value they could find, insulted the nuns and defiled the altar. After some twenty minutes of such ex­cesses they left the Convent with their loot. It was only then that the Mother Superior recalled her visitor. On going to Isabella's room she found her dead, and little Quetzal lying under her bed grievously wounded.

"The boy was still alive at the time of my visit and the Mother Superior took me to him. This is what he had to tell. He was sleeping in the gardener's lodge, hard by the main entrance to the Convent. He was awakened by the battering upon it, and getting up ran to his mistress. No sooner were the main doors stove in than he heard the rush of trampling feet along the stone corridor; then the ruffians attacked the door of Isabella's room. They forced it and four of them made violent entry. Isabella had sprung from her bed, thrown a robe about her person and was standing in the middle of the room. That gallant child had his tomahawk in his hand and did his best to defend her. In a moment he was struck down and they rushed upon Isabella. Two of them seized her arms and forced her back against the wall, while the other two thrust their pikes a dozen times through her body.

"Seeing that she was dead, and hoping yet to save himself, Quetzal wriggled beneath the bed. When they had left the room he tried to staunch the blood that was flowing from his wound. He was still attempting to do so when the trampling of feet came again. Peering out from under the valance, he saw a tall man, who had not been there before, and one of Isabella's murderers. The tall man was masked, wore a cloak, and a soft-brimmed hat pulled well down over his face. He stood for a moment looking down at Isabella's dead body. Then he drew a heavy bag of money from under his cloak and handed it to the leader of the murderers with the words: *Yes; this is the woman. Here is the price on which we agreed.'

"Quetzal knew the tall figure, and he knew the voice. He died of his wound before I left the Convent, and with his last breath he swore to me that it was Don Diego."

Georgina nodded. "I cannot doubt you, Roger; and I now under­stand. I can by inference even confirm the truth of what you say. That morning Diego was sent for to go to the Convent about seven o'clock. I was up when he returned, and having told me what had occurred he asked me to marry him as soon as his period of mourning was over. Then, I saw no possible connection between him and the attack on the Carmelites. I was only shocked by his flagrantly indecent haste in proposing before his wife's body was even cold. The thought of his callousness in that afterwards did much to lessen the grief I should otherwise have felt at the death of anyone with whom I had been so intimate. But now I see that his proposal to me was the con­firmation of his wife's fears, and nails his motive to the mast."