Dennis Wheatley - The Satanist

'You've taken the words out of my mouth, Colonel. I've already used my Ambassador's name with Pan American at London Airport - quicker than our motoring down to the nearest U.S. air base. They've pushed some passengers off a 'plane and are holding it in readiness.'

'It's a pleasure to work with you,' C.B. smiled. Then he turned to Barney and Otto. I'd like you with me, Sullivan, and you had better come too, Mr. Khune. The nearer you are to your brother the better chance you'll have, I take it, of locating him.'

In such circumstances there could be no question of their delaying to pack bags. As C.B. passed through the outer office he told his P.A. that any communication to him should be made through Interpol H.Q. at Geneva, then the four men hurried down to the waiting cars.

The whole morning had gone in conferences, so it was now well past lunch time and they did not arrive at London Airport until a quarter to three. There they were escorted straight through to the airliner and, shortly after it had taken off, they sat down to a meal. Verney then sent a radiogram to Interpol asking that a senior official should meet them with a car at the Geneva airport.

It was six o'clock when they got in. A thin, dark, brisk-mannered Italian Commandante, named Fratelli, met them and whisked them into the city, then along the lakeside to the fine park in which the International Conference buildings stand. Half an hour after landing they were closeted with Monsieur Martell, the grey-haired Chef de Surete, to whom C.B. had spoken on the telephone while still at 10, Downing Street.

For security reasons Martell had been asked only to use all his resources to trace Lothar Khune, Colonel Washington and Mary Morden, with such information as might enable him to do so. Now C.B. put him fully in the picture and, as they were old friends, although Martell showed amazement and consternation, he did not question the statement that the wanted men possessed occult powers.

Having heard Verney out, he said, 'Within minutes of your speaking to me I had these people's descriptions circulated and a big reward offered for information concerning them. But, as you know, we are an international organization, so our main strength lies in the airports and frontier posts. The interior is a matter for the Swiss police. Naturally, I passed the word to my Swiss colleague at once, and for some hours they have been making enquiries. I will get through and see if he has any news.'

For a few minutes he talked on one of his telephones, then he hung up and shook his head. 'As yet, my friend, nothing. Now that May has come the cable railways are being opened up again, but many remain closed all through the winter and are not yet once more in commission. The probability is that it is one such in a sparsely populated area that this man Lothar Khune has made use of while it was deserted, and without the knowledge of the authorities.'

'A check-up must be made on every one of them with a minimum of delay,' said Verney quickly.

'Agreed' Monsieur Martell promptly conceded. 'But remember that so far the Swiss know only that we are seeking three people urgently. They are not yet aware that their lives, and those of millions of others, depend on the success of their efforts; so ...'

Richter raised a hand. 'Sure, but you will appreciate the necessity for keeping the awful truth from all but the people at the top. If it got out there would be nation-wide panics, thousands of suicides and a leak to the Russians which would probably lead to their opening the ball right away.'

'That's so,' Verney agreed. 'But our Foreign Secretary was going to send a code message to our Ambassador in Berne and instruct him to inform the Swiss Government.'

'Ah!' exclaimed Martell. 'That is better, much better. Realizing the full danger the Government will exert itself to the maximum. By now, perhaps troops may even have been called out to assist the police in their searching and questioning. But all reports will go to Berne. I shall receive them here only later. Therefore, if I may advise, you should proceed at once to the capital. I must remain here to redouble the activities of my own people; but Commandante Fratelli is at your disposal and will open all doors for you on your arrival.'

His advice was sound so they accepted it at once, and a few minutes later he was seeing them off in the car on their way north-eastward. For the first thirty-eight miles their route lay along the north shore of Lac L6man and even their anxieties could not altogether prevent their taking in the beauties of the scene. To one side lay the five to ten mile wide sheet of now placid water, with occasional tree-surrounded chateaux and chalets standing in gardens that ran down to its shore. On the other, the ground rose gently at first, then more steeply, towards the Jura range, the whole being either meadows, in which herds of a curiously mushroom-coloured breed of cows grazed, or orchards. The latter - mainly plums, pears and apricots - were a mass of blossom as, also, in brighter hues, were the chalet gardens of their owners.

Every few miles they passed through a village or small town, each neat, clean and orderly, with gay massed flowers in the beds of its central square. The sight of such peace and unforced prosperity made them more than ever conscious of the incredible evil that Lothar planned to bring upon the world, by turning all this into shambles so that even the few survivors would be forced to live like pariah-dogs in the ruins of what had once been their pleasant homes.

On entering Lausanne they mounted steeply through the streets of the city to come out on much higher ground, from which they caught some panoramic views of the lovely lake before leaving it behind. The road now lay through flattish country, fringed on both sides with orchards and meadows, many of which were a sea of golden dandelions. There were, too, more beautifully kept villages, huge barns with chalet roofs, and often villas in the gardens of which fine magnolia trees were in full blossom; but the light was failing now, taking the colour out of the flowers, and by the time they reached the picturesque old city of Fribourg it was nearly dark. The last twenty miles were soon eaten up and at just on ten o'clock Fratelli brought the car to a halt in front of the Police Headquarters in Berne.

Martell had telephoned so they were shown straight up to the office of the Chief-of-Police. Actually, as Fratelli told them afterwards, the elderly square-faced stolid-looking man who received them was not the Chief-of-Police, but his Deputy by seniority, as the Chief had been involved in a car smash a few days earlier and was in hospital.

The acting Chief stood up, bowed sharply from the waist, and introduced himself as 'Tauber'. He had no news to give them, but said that he had that afternoon been told by the Minister of the Interior of the menace to world peace, and was doing everything possible to trace the people concerned. He added that he had not been informed upon what evidence it was believed that a madman with an H bomb had brought it into Switzerland and proposed to launch it from a mountain cave, and that he was anxious to have particulars.

Verney at once complied, giving him an abbreviated version of the whole story. When Herr Tauber had heard it he raised his grey eyebrows until they almost met the bristling grey hair that grew like a brush above his low forehead; then he said angrily,

'But, Colonel, this is not evidence. It is not even hearsay.

There can be no more to it than the predictions of a gipsy woman who has gazed into a crystal.'

'It's no prediction that Colonel Henrik G. Washington stole and flew off with a nuclear war-head,' Richter rapped out. 'That's a fact.'

The Police Chief grunted 'I do not question that. But why should he bring it to Switzerland? That he should take it to Russia would make sense or, if he could not fly so far, to Czechoslovakia or East Germany, perhaps, but...'