For a moment Mary’s heart stopped beating. Her mind reeled as it grasped the appalling situation which had so suddenly developed.
Now for the hundredth time she cursed her folly in not having let sleeping dogs lie. The early stages of her investigation had held for her only a spice of danger sufficient to intrigue, and her first successes with Ratnadatta had strengthened her resolution to ignore the warnings she had been given – until Barney had extracted a promise from her that she would have nothing more to do with the Satanists. But by then, through having become a neophyte, she had already forged a fatal link with them, and the sight of Teddy’s shoes on Ratnadatta’s feet had proved her undoing.
From that night, as a result of her own actions, she had become the plaything of Evil and exposed to one peril after another. That she had, after all, succeeded in securing concrete evidence against her husband’s murderers was now small comfort. If these fiends with whom she had consorted dealt with Barney as they had with Teddy his death would lie at her door.
As her heart suddenly began to beat again she drew a sharp, rasping breath.
‘Surprised you, eh, honey?’ Wash commented grimly. ‘Surprised me too, seein’ you claimed to be well acquainted with this Doctor Dee. Tell what you know of him.’
His tone implied no suspicion of her, only curiosity; but she knew that she must exercise the greatest caution about every word she said. In a low voice she murmured, ‘There’s not much I can tell you. I believed him to be one of us and it’s a nasty shock to hear that he’s not.’
‘Give, honey, give.’ Wash’s voice had suddenly become impatient. ‘He’s your boy friend, and came to these parts set on trying to snatch you off me. Fellers don’t go that far unless they and the dame are pretty close to one another.’
Mary’s mind was still a whirl of misery, but she managed to co-ordinate her thoughts sufficiently to reply. ‘He is in love with me, of course; but he’s never been my boy friend in the sense you mean. I met him only a few weeks ago at Mrs. Wardeel’s. She is a woman who holds evenings for dabblers in the occult. Ratnadatta always goes to them to pick up anyone there who looks a likely convert to the True Faith. He was introduced to me as Lord Larne and…’
‘Lord Larne,’ Wash interrupted. ‘He must have plenty gall to have taken a title for his front.’
Instantly Mary covered up for Barney by asserting, ‘It wasn’t a front. He is Lord Larne. No one’s ever questioned that. Anyway, after some of the meetings he walked home with me. Then he asked me out to dine and dance, and twice I’ve given him supper at my flat. He was an amusing companion and we had the common interest that we both hoped to become initiates. We had started an affaire, and if things hadn’t gone as they did the night you carried me off I expect that in due course he and I would have become lovers. His having come after me here shows only that he must have fallen harder for me than I thought.’
‘So that’s your side of it. Maybe, though, it’s not hot pants that brought him here. Seeing he’s a cop it’s on the cards that he’s been stringing you along for what he could get out of you, and followed your trail on a hunch that you’d give him the dope about what goes on in these parts.’
‘Perhaps,’ Mary admitted; and for a moment her misery was rendered even more intense by the thought that possibly that might be the truth. She had hardly yet had time to assimilate the idea that Barney was some sort of detective. If he was, that explained many things. On the assumption that he was a playboy whose time was his own, she had bitterly resented what she had believed to be his lies about his Kenya travel agency arrangements interfering with their meetings; but that, she realised now, could have been cover for periods when he had to perform certain duties. It also excused his taking a title as a pseudonym, as doing so would have made him more readily acceptable at Mrs. Wardeel’s. It even made it probable that he had not deliberately let her down the previous week-end to go off with some other woman. As against that there did seem to be a possibility that from the very beginning he had been making use of her only because she had got in with Ratnadatta before he had, and had succeeded in penetrating the Satanic circle at Cremorne.
After only the briefest consideration Mary thrust that last idea aside. Had there been any foundation for it Barney would have urged her to go through with her initiation, then pumped her about what had taken place. As it was he had used his utmost endeavours to persuade her to have no more to do with the Satanists. So if he was a detective he had put her safety before his duty as an investigator. At this thought, in spite of the harsh words with which they had parted, her heart both warmed towards him and was wrung afresh with terrible visions of what lay in store for him.
Virtually a prisoner as she was, she could think of no way in which she could save him or help him to escape, until Wash remarked, ‘There’s times when you British can be mighty sly. Who’d have thought that for special missions Scotland Yard would have kept on its pay-roll a real live Lord?’
Seizing the opening given her, Mary said quickly, ‘I can’t believe they do. There’s a mistake somewhere. There must be. This fellow is Lord Larne all right. If he had been a fake someone at Mrs. Wardeel’s would have been certain to have found him out and exposed him. He is an Irish Earl and only on a visit to England. He has estates in Kenya and has lived there most of his life, so he can’t possibly be a member of the British Police Force. The Great Ram must have mistaken him for someone else.’
Wash gave an ugly laugh. ‘The Great Ram doesn’t make mistakes, honey. Could be you’re right about his coming from Kenya. If so, his tie-up with the police here is only temporary. But if the Great Ram says he’s a spy, a spy he is. Had we the time we’d put him under hypnosis and get details about his assignment. As things are tonight we’re working on too tight a schedule. Just have to bump him and get on with our own business.’
‘You can’t!’ Mary cried in protest. ‘You can’t. Not without giving him some form of trial. At least you must give him a chance to show that this is all a terrible mistake.’
‘Having liked the guy it’s natural you should see things that way.’ Wash put his big hand on her knee and gave it a friendly squeeze. ‘I guess, too, maybe you’d been countin’ on him making you his Duchess or something; so him turning out a rat is a bad break for you. Still, none of us can expect the little old ivories to roll as we want all the time, and now you’re my squaw I’ll see you lack for nothing. At this point, though, I’ll warn. When your Lord Larne is about to get his, no throwing a scene. The Great Ram wouldn’t take that kindly, and it might make things mighty awkward for us both.’
For a few minutes Mary remained silent while the car sped on through the dark night, then she asked, ‘Where are we going?’
‘To the ruined Abbey I was telling you of last night. Place where I dumped the body of that floosie down the well.’
Mary shuddered. ‘To … to hold a Sabbat in such a place must be very different from holding one in the Temple at Cremorne.
‘They’ve one thing in common: altars once used for Christian rites. That’s a must in Christian countries. Leastways, they give ten times the potency to the conjurations of a priest of Our Lord Satan.’
‘I see. But after the ceremony? Surely it’s too cold and uncomfortable for anyone to enjoy feasting, and that sort of thing, in an old ruin?’
He laughed. ‘You’ll not find it cold, honey. To alter temperature within a radius of a hundred yards is a simple magic. I create a fog belt round the ruin as a precaution against passing casuals seeing our lights from the road and getting a mind to snoop. Then I call off the rain – if need be – and ante-up the heat inside the magic circle to a degree that’s pleasant.’
Having witnessed the Great Ram perform more astonishing miracles, Mary accepted without question Wash’s claim to control local weather conditions by magic, but she said, ‘All the same, unless you can turn slabs of stone into divans, and the hard ground into a carpet, there can’t be much fun in holding an orgy there.’
‘We don’t; not in the ruin. I’ve rented a house not far off that’s got all the etceteras. Once a month we adjourn there after the ceremony. There’s no women initiates in this little Lodge I’ve founded for my boys. I get out from Cambridge a picked bunch of dolls for them to hit it up with. The dolls are not wise to what goes on beforehand in the Abbey. They’re just invited to a party where there’ll be prizes for the hottest momma, and paid off in the morning.’
‘Shall we be going there tonight?’
‘No. We’ve only to do the rituals, perform the sacrifice and initiate you; then we beat it just as fast as we can.’
‘Does that mean that I’ll have to … to do my Temple Service in the ruin?’
‘Yeah. You’ll have to take it on the altar stone, honey. And for once in my life I’ll be jealous. You’ve sure got under my skin. I’ll just hate the others even eyeing you on the stone, let alone what’ll follow.’
‘I … Wash; listen!’ she burst out. ‘I’m going to hate it, too, now I know you feel like that about me. And as long as you do I’d be content to remain a neophyte. You can give me everything I want without my becoming a witch. Let’s postpone my initiation. You can drop me somewhere before we get to the Abbey and I’ll wait on the roadside until you are through with your rituals and can pick me up again.’
With her pulses racing she waited breathlessly for his reply. If he agreed, not only would she escape the dreaded ordeal of initiation but, infinitely more important, she would have a chance to get to a telephone and bring the police on the scene before they could murder Barney.
‘That’s mighty handsome of you, honey,’ he said softly. ‘You must care quite a lot about old Wash to offer to forgo this chance to acquire power, so as to spare him the sight of you playing the part of a push-over. I’d give a packet to be able to take you up on your offer.’
‘But you can! Why shouldn’t you?’
He shook his head. ‘No dice, honey. I could have if the Great Ram wasn’t in on this party. But he is; and he’s offered to initiate you himself. That’s one hell of an honour. To turn it down just isn’t possible; and the initiation wouldn’t make sense unless you do your stuff in the Creation rite. If you tried to stall now he’d maybe think it was because you couldn’t take our giving Doctor Dee the works, and meant to apostasise. Then he’d send out a curse that would blast you where you stood.’
With a sigh Mary lay back and closed her eyes. Her brief hope had been dashed and it now seemed that nothing short of a miracle could save Barney’s life. Silently but fervently she began to pray to the Holy Virgin to intercede for him.
Barney’s thoughts, meanwhile, were almost equally chaotic. Being completely unaware of the peril which threatened to bring his existence to an abrupt termination in the very near future, the idea of trying to get away from his sinister companion never entered his mind; it was filled with a jumble of speculations which shuttled swiftly to and fro between the man beside him and Mary.
To him it seemed a marvellous piece of luck that while seeking for Mary down here in the country he should have stumbled on Lothar. Although an Irishman, Barney had the quality of an English bulldog and, having made contact with the Satanist whom his chief was so anxious to lay by the heels, nothing could have induced him to let go. To him it was now only a question of how best to secure Lothar’s arrest. Yet he found it exceedingly difficult to concentrate on the problem because Mary’s enraged face and furious denunciation of him persistently rose up in his mind.
The revelation that she was the Mary McCreedy of his salad days had left him temporarily stunned. He could not think now how he had failed to recognise her; she had made it clear enough that she had recognised him. But why had she not revealed the fact, and given him a chance to explain?
He wondered then, a shade uneasily, what explanation he could have given, except that on coming into his title his uncle had insisted on his changing his whole way of life. But evidently she believed that he had invented his title, and that was hardly surprising in view of the lies he had told her about his having spent most of his life in Kenya. That could be put right, but how much was he really to blame for the miseries she had suffered after he had left Dublin?
Thrusting the question aside, he switched his mind back to Lothar. Evidently the Satanist did not suspect either Mary or himself, as he had offered to initiate them. What form would the initiation take? Something pretty vile without a doubt. Spitting on the Cross, oaths of fidelity to the Devil, and a sexual ‘free for all’ to finish up with, seemed the probable programme. At the last item his thoughts switched back to Mary.
Was she really as hardboiled as she now appeared? Apparently she had been thoroughly enjoying herself here for the past week with the great hulking American. Perhaps, then, she would not mind giving herself to several different men during the course of a midnight orgy. Mentally he groaned at the thought.
In his fury he had stormed at her, Once a whore always a whore!’ but was that really true? Not necessarily; and certainly not in her case. He knew now that she had been forced into prostitution, and it was clear from her having married Teddy Morden that she had escaped from it as soon as she had the chance. The fact that she was now living with the American could not be held against her. It needed only a second thought to appreciate that she was doing so as a stage in her campaign to get evidence against Teddy’s murderers. If that was so she was going to hate taking part in an orgy as much as he did the thought of her doing so.
Lothar had not addressed a word to him. With regal unconcern for the fact that he had a passenger the Great Ram remained deep in his own thoughts, driving the powerful car with ease and skill so that it maintained an almost unvarying distance of some fifty yards from the rear lights of the other car.
Barney shot Lothar a sidelong glance. He was wondering now if by some means he could prevent the Satanist from getting to the Esbbat, and so save Mary from the ordeal of initiation. The only possibility seemed to be to wait until the car slowed down, then turn and strike him senseless by a sudden blow behind the ear. But as long as they were moving at more than twenty miles an hour that would be much too dangerous. Barney realised that before he could grab the wheel the car would be off the road. If it turned over or crashed into a tree he might be seriously injured, and so have robbed himself of the chance to capture Lothar. Yet if he waited until the car slowed down on approaching their destination, it was certain that the car in front would already have pulled up. The big American would be getting out and would be bound to see the result of an attack on Lothar. He would come dashing to the rescue long before the stunned Satanist could be pulled out of the car and dragged off into the bushes. These considerations swiftly decided Barney against making such an attempt unless they lost touch with the car ahead or for some unforeseen reason Lothar had to reduce their pace to something near a crawl.
Again his thoughts went back to Mary. He now remembered her clearly as a lovely golden-haired slip of a girl who had been the pick of the dance-hostesses in the restaurant where she worked, but he had only vague memories of the single night they had spent together. He had had a big win that day on a horse called ‘Cherry Pie’ and, as usual when his luck was in, splashed a good part of the proceeds in standing champagne to all and sundry; so he had been pretty tight himself by the time he had persuaded her to let him take her to an hotel. He recalled his disappointment at finding her frigid and later his annoyance at her not having told him to begin with that she was a virgin, but apart from that his mind was a blank.
He knew himself well enough to be sure that he had not abused her or treated her unkindly, and no doubt on leaving he had promised to see her soon again. After all, it was usual to say something of that kind to a girl after having spent the night with her, whether one meant it or not. In this case he probably had meant it, and all the odds were that he would have, had not his whole life taken a different turn a few days later.
But if he had, it would not have been to assure himself that he had not put her in the family way. The idea that he might have had not even occurred to him. His light-hearted amours with other cabaret girls had led him to believe that they all knew how to look after themselves or, in the event of an accident, take early steps to remedy it. If Mary had let things slide that was her fault, and he could not be blamed.
Yet, on further thought, he had to admit to himself that fundamentally he was responsible, because he had tempted her with money. She had not been like the other girls who had cheerfully accepted his advances on a business basis. She had more than once refused him, declaring that she ‘did not do that sort of thing’. Then, on the night of his big win she had been very depressed, and he had got out of her the reason. Her brother was in trouble and she was too hard up to help him out.
He had not supposed for one moment that she was a virgin, but a girl who normally would not give herself for money, as many of her companions did; so he had seized the opportunity of her needing money and bid her twenty pounds, reasoning that the offer of so large a sum might do the trick – and it had.
Only later, had he been more sober, could he have appreciated the mental struggle she must have been through before giving way to the temptation to have that fat wad of pound notes in her handbag next morning; and only now could be begin to appreciate something of the misery with which she had ultimately had to pay for them.
The thought of her at seventeen, or eighteen at the most, concealing her harrowing secret for many weeks, until only an illegal operation could free her from it, wrung his heart. And then the way she had had to earn the money to pay for it. What she must have been through did not bear thinking about. He might count himself innocent of intent to harm her, but he had, and the wonder was that she had survived it to become the charming and courageous woman he had met at Mrs. Wardeel’s.
That, he realised, was the real Mary; and now that he knew the whole truth concerning her the doubts he had had during the past week about allowing himself to go on loving her were entirely dissipated. The dangerous and distasteful role she was playing at present was that of a Crusader against Evil, wielding a woman’s weapons. The life of ill-fame she had led in Dublin had been forced upon her, and by his act as an irresponsible young rake. If she would let him he would do his utmost to make up to her for that. The moment they were free to be together again he would beg her forgiveness for the abuse he had heaped on her that night, and tell her how desperately he loved her.
But when would they be free to be together again? Once more he glanced at Lothar’s aloof, hatchet-like profile and silently cursed him for having turned up at the Cedars. Had he not done so the present situation would never have arisen. Instead of Mary being on her way to play a part in some revolting ceremony she would still be at the Cedars; he could have left, driven into Cambridge, collected the police, bagged the American and then driven her back to London.
Suddenly he began to wonder why Lothar had turned up at the Cedars when he had. Surely the Great Ram had not come all the way from the Continent, or even from London, simply to preside at a meeting of a little local coven and, at that, a meeting that was only an Esbbat, not even a Sabbat, let alone one of the great Satanic feasts of the year to which the covens of several countries would have been summoned. What devilry was he up to, then, in a remote village like Fulgoham?
Perhaps the fact that his host was a Colonel in the United States Air Force gave the clue? Yes, something to do with the great American air base in the nearby valley must be the answer. Down in Wales he had succeeded in making off with a considerable quantity of the special rocket fuel. What could he be after here?
For some minutes Barney’s mind roved over possibilities. Surely he was not planning to get away with one of the giant aircraft? What could he do with it if he succeeded? Besides, it would need a trained crew to fly it. But an H-bomb perhaps? No, that did not make sense either, if Forsby was right in his belief that Lothar wanted to try out some private experiment of his own; because bombs were dropped from aircraft so did not need rocket fuel to launch them. But Forsby might be wrong. As C.B. had always maintained, Lothar could still be working for the Soviets. If so, such secret devices for waging war as he obtained for them need not tie up. And an American H-bomb, if he could get one out of the country, would be an invaluable prize to hand over to the Russians.
Barney got no further in his speculations. The car ahead had turned off the road on to a rough track. They followed and bumped along at a slower pace for about half a mile. The leading car pulled up in the shadow of a group of trees, and from them several figures emerged to meet it Barney had already abandoned as too risky any idea of trying shock tactics against Lothar, but he felt now that whatever happened, even if Mary got into difficulties, it was his imperative duty to play up to the Satanist and stick to him like glue.
As the leading car bumped its way to a halt Mary was nerving herself to wait until Barney got out of the one behind, then shout to him, ‘Run, run for your life! They’ve found you out and mean to kill you.’ But Wash must have read the way in which her mind was working, for he said to her, ‘You’re all het up about Doctor Dee, aren’t you, honey. I’d let you out of seeing him given his medicine if I could, but I just daren’t. Not with the Great Ram around. And don’t you try to give the Doc the tip-off that he’s in danger. He couldn’t get away, nohow. Before he’d gotten a dozen yards the Great Ram would halt him. Yeah, as surely as I could lasso a steer, but only by a thought wave. And any little game of that kind would end in curtains for you too.’
As he finished speaking he took a black satin mask from a pocket in the car, handed it to her and added, ‘Put this on, and stay where you are till I come and fetch you.’ Then he got out and strode over to join the group of figures that had come out from the trees.
For a moment hope surged up in her again. If they all went off together she meant to jump out and run for it, trusting to get away under cover of the darkness. If she succeeded there would at least be a chance of her finding a house from which she could telephone and secure help before Barney was murdered.
But the figures moved swiftly forward and met Wash while he was still within ten yards of the car. She could see now that there were five or six of them, and that they were all wearing monk-like robes with cowls that hid their features. The group remained where it had met Wash, talking with him, and with a sinking heart she knew that they were much too near for her to slip away without their seeing and catching her.
Meanwhile Lothar and Barney had got out of the other car; the latter with very mixed feelings, for he was now both intensely curious about the ceremony that was to take place, yet greatly concerned and anxious about Mary.
Going round to the boot Lothar unlocked it, then opened a large square leather case from which he took out and put on the ram’s head-piece with the big curling horns, and a robe of black silk embroidered in gold with the signs of the Zodiac. Signing to Barney to accompany him, he then walked towards the group of cowled figures.
As he approached they all made a deep obeisance. A few words were exchanged after which, with the exception of Wash, the whole party moved off along a path that led in among the trees. Wash came back to the car, said to Mary, ‘I’ll be with you in a moment, honey,’ then went round to the boot.
Two minutes later he reappeared, having put on over his uniform a robe of white satin, decorated with black twisting snakes, and wearing on his head a silver circlet from which reared up in front a striking cobra of the same metal with flashing red rubies for eyes. He opened the car door and Mary got out. Under the mask her face was chalk white, and she was trembling. He put his great hand under her arm to steady her and they followed the others along the path through the trees.
After a hundred yards or so the trees ended and beyond them there reared up against the dark night sky irregular patches of deeper blackness made by still-standing portions of the walls of the ruined Abbey. Between two of them a faint light glowed, which was just sufficient to show up the tangle of weeds and low bushes that had grown up among the ancient stones. Wash guided Mary through the gap and they entered the main body of the Abbey church. She saw then that the light came from the only part of the ruin that remained something more than piles of crumbling masonry overgrown with ivy. This was a still partially intact side chapel, and set up in it were thirteen tall black candles.
By their light she saw that above the far end of the chapel a jagged fragment of roof still hung suspended between two pillars with Norman capitals. Beneath it lay the altar, an oblong block of stone, broken at one end and raised on two worn steps. Below the steps to the left there was a three-foot high sarcophagus upon the lid of which lay the carved stone figures of a Crusader and his wife, but the images were so worn by time and exposure as to be hardly distinguishable from one another. On the opposite side was a blank wall with one small arched window in it through which the branch of a tree was growing.
As Mary stumbled forward, still half supported by Wash, she caught the stench of sulphur from the candles. Between them the mysterious figures moved, temporarily obscuring one or other of the candle flames as they took their places for the ceremony. Wash gave her a little shake and said in a low, sharp voice:
‘Pep up now! For Pete’s sake don’t show yellow before the big shot. He’ll give you a treatment else. Maybe cause all your hair to fall out as a penalty for not glorying in Our Lord Satan’s work. We’ll be through and on our way in an hour. Till then you gotta act as though you was one hundred per cent the eager neophyte,’
Her last hope of warning Barney had gone. The moment of his death was approaching with terrible rapidity. At the thought of the hideous scene that she would be forced to witness in a matter of minutes, she was on the verge of fainting. But quite suddenly her trembling ceased, the muscles of her limbs tautened, and she felt able to hold her head erect again. Instinctively she knew that this was due not to any change in her own mentality, but because the giant beside her was pouring some of his strength into her.
By then they had reached the wide open entrance to the chapel. The Great Ram was now standing to the right of the altar. Barney was standing, as he had been directed, facing and about six feet away from it. The twelve robed and cowled men who made up Wash’s coven had formed two lines lower down the chapel and facing inwards. The two furthest from the altar were holding one a saxophone, the other an accordion. Wash led Mary up to the right of the altar, and signed to her to stand with her back to the Crusader’s tomb. He then bowed to the Great Ram, stepped to the front of the altar, faced the congregation, and said, ‘Brothers of the Ram. You are all wise to it that tonight we have a very special assignment to carry out for the furtherance of Our Lord Satan’s work. To bless and guide our efforts His Mightiness the Great Ram has come among us. To him Prince Lucifer has delegated the greatest power in His realm the Earth. To have him with us, folks, is an outstanding honour. Presently he’ll grant you ‘most anything you ask, and far more than I could do, as a sorta blank cheque against any risks you may run of meeting trouble later. But first he’s graciously agreed to initiate two neophytes: warlock Doctor Dee, and witch Circe. Now we’ll make a start with the usual drill. Give me fog music.’
The men with the saxophone and the accordion began to play. The notes they drew from their instruments were unlike anything that Mary had ever heard before. It was a strange tuneless wailing that had something sad about it but without rhythm or form. While this cacophony of sound continued Wash remained motionless in front of the altar, his eyes cast down, his face rigid with concentration.
Within a few moments the spell began to work. A deeper gloom shrouded the irregular piles of ruins outside the chapel, wisps of white mist drifted across its open end, and soon these thickened until they formed a solid impenetrable curtain.
Wash released his breath in a long loud sigh, then ordered, ‘Give me music to turn on the heat.’
The players broke off and, after a moment, started a quite different arrangement of sounds. Again they were tuneless and apparently unco-ordinated, but the movement was quicker and gayer. Again Wash stood unmoving as he concentrated on creating a change in the temperature. The May night was not cold, but on the previous day heavy rain had saturated the weeds and bushes that formed a miniature jungle between the ivy-covered mounds of the ancient ruin, leaving it dank and chill. Now, with surprising swiftness, the faint mist that had permeated the interior of the little chapel disappeared, and its atmosphere became as warm as that of a garden on a sunny day in June.
Mary was hardly conscious of these changes. Grateful for the support of the Crusader’s tomb she stood partly leaning back against it, her eyes riveted on Barney. Still not remotely suspicious of the horrible death that had been planned for him, he was standing in an easy attitude facing Wash, but now and then giving a covert glance about him.
Once he smiled at Mary, but she was too distraught to respond; so he assumed that she was still furious with him, and he did not look in her direction again. Had she not been masked the agonised expression on her face as she stared at him might at least have conveyed a hint that for some reasons she was apprehensive on his account, but after the way they had blackguarded one another at the Cedars, he could only suppose that until he could have a quiet talk with her alone there was no hope of healing the breach between them.
Wash bowed to Lothar, then they changed places so that the former now stood on the right of the altar and the latter in front of it. As they moved, Mary instinctively turned her gaze from Barney to them. Both made imposing figures. Wash, with the Cleopatra style diadem and rearing cobra set upon his thick near-white hair, his great hook nose, and huge body draped in the white satin robe decorated with the entwined black snakes, resembled some fabulous Aztec Emperor. Yet, for all his height and massive bulk, he did not steal the picture from Lothar. Slim, erect, his deeply cleft chin jutting out, and his cruel, beautifully modelled mouth hard set beneath the great horned mask that now concealed the upper part of his face, the Great Ram positively radiated power. It seemed to pulsate from him in waves that could be felt, and without question he was the dominant personality in the assembly. Suddenly, in his harsh, slightly nasal voice, he spoke.
‘My children! As your High Priest Twisting Snake has told you, we have a great work to perform for Our Lord Satan tonight. To some of you it may appear to involve risk of arrest and imprisonment. Have no fears. Prince Lucifer always looks after his own. Ways will be found to protect you, or more than compensate you later for any temporary unpleasantness you may have to undergo.’
He paused for a moment, the tip of his tongue passed slowly over his red lips, then he went on. ‘Before we set out on our important mission, I shall grant all your reasonable requests. Later I intend to perform a ceremony of initiation. The neophyte Circe is to be received among us as a Sister. She is of unusual beauty; so no doubt most of you will wish to perform with her the Sacred Rite of Creation when she offers herself for Temple Service.’
As he paused again Mary choked back a sob of dread and Barney, the blood now drained from his face, clenched his fists until his nails dug deep into his palms. Surrounded, as he was, by fourteen strong men, he knew that he had not the faintest chance of saving her from this devastating physical assault. He could only pray that he would by some means be spared from witnessing it, and might be granted the small satisfaction within the next twelve hours of bringing about the arrest of the whole unholy crew so that justice might be done upon them.
Again the Great Ram’s cold, sneering voice broke the deadly silence that reigned in the little chapel. ‘As you all know, for the ceremony of initiation blood is required. Normally it is the blood obtained from a sacrifice. To that there is only one alternative. By a special dispensation Our Lord Satan has granted me the power to use one drop of blood from my own veins for this purpose. But tonight I shall not need to open one of my veins. There is a traitor among us! A spy!’
Suddenly his left hand shot out and he pointed at Barney. ‘There he stands! Seize him! I decree that here and now he shall serve as a sacrifice.’
It was evident that Wash had warned the group of men who had met him under the trees to be prepared for this denunciation. The very instant that Lothar’s accusing finger stabbed the air, as though at a signal the two cowled figures nearest Barney leapt towards him. He had no time to turn, let alone run. The attack was so sudden that he had hardly raised his arms to defend himself before they were seized. Next moment he was struggling between the two men and making desperate efforts to free himself from them.
Now that the dreaded crisis was actually upon her Mary was utterly distraught. To the last she had hoped for the miracle for which she had been praying so frantically – some benighted stranger stumbling on the scene and causing a diversion, a fall of the remainder of the chapel roof, a sudden heart attack that would lay the Great Ram low, lightning directed at his evil heart, a thunderbolt, an angel with a flaming sword – but no intervention, human or divine, had occurred to prevent the Satanists carrying through their terrible purpose.
Bitterly she upbraided herself for not having shouted a warning to Barney as he walked past the car in which Wash had left her, or as she had come through the ruin to the chapel. That she had not was partly due to fears for herself aroused by Wash’s threats of what the Great Ram might do to her. But only partly. It was more that at no point had it seemed possible to her that he could have got away. Yet he was strong, resourceful and swift of foot; so he might have. And now it was too late.
Tears welled from her eyes and ran down her cheeks beneath the mask. Her hands were damp, her hair matted on her forehead. The struggle in the middle of the temple had as yet only lasted a few moments, but there could be no question about how it would end. Even if Barney could wrench his arms from the grip of the two men who held them, there were ten others between him and the open end of the chapel. Within a matter of minutes it was certain that he would be overcome. Then they would rig up some form of crucifix, tie him to it upside down and cut his throat – just as the Satanists at Cremorne had cut Teddy’s.
She could shut her eyes but that would not prevent her seeing with her mind all that was happening step by hideous step. And the awful sound of his cries as they butchered him would ring in her ears to torture her to the end of her days.
A wave of faintness swept over her. She swayed slightly and her knees began to give. Instinctively she thrust her hands behind her to keep herself from falling by supporting herself on the Crusader’s tomb. One of them descended on her handbag. She had carried it from the car under her arm then put it down there behind her.
In an instant she had grasped the bag and once more stood erect. With frantic fingers she tore it open and plunged her right hand into it. Ever since she had left the Temple at Cremorne with Wash the crucifix had remained in it, but in a side pocket and forgotten by her.
To produce it, she knew, would mean a hideous death for herself. But by its power she might save Barney. His bitter angry words ‘Once a whore always a whore’ came back to her. From the moment of the abrupt interruption of their furious quarrel she had felt certain that even if they both got away from the Satanists he would henceforth always despise her. Yet she loved him. She knew now that he was the only man in her life that she had ever really loved or ever would love. Had some other man been in his present extremity, however great her urge to help him, fear for herself would have restrained her. She would have stood by until mounting anguish proved too much for her and she feinted. But it was Barney who was to die. No matter what happened she must play, in an attempt to save him, this last card that the Powers of Good had thrust into her hand.
These thoughts coursed through her brain with the speed of lightning. The Great Ram was still standing at the foot of the altar steps, side face on to her and no more than six feet away. Pulling the crucifix from the bag she threw it with all her force at his face.
It hit him on the chin. As it struck him there came a blinding flash. He uttered a piercing shriek and fell backwards against the altar. His great ram’s head mask was knocked off and rolled across the floor. For an instant the chapel and the ruins outside it were as bright as though lit by brilliant sunshine. Next second all other sounds were drowned in a crash of thunder. The floor of the chapel rocked, a part of the roof fell in. The flames of the black candles flickered wildly then went out, plunging the whole scene in darkness.
For several minutes pandemonium reigned. Shouts and curses rent the air mingled with the sounds of groans and trampling feet. Then the beam of an electric torch stabbed the blackness. Another and another appeared, until five beams were sweeping to and fro, revealing the wild disorder into which the Satanists had been thrown.
Lothar, apparently still dazed, was hunched on the altar steps nursing his burnt chin in his hands. Wash was bending over him. Two of the congregation were cowering in a corner; another, having been kneed in the groin by Barney, lay writhing in the middle of the chapel floor. Barney, to Mary’s unutterable relief, had disappeared. Three more of the Satanists were missing, having either gone in pursuit of him or, being overcome by panic, fled into the night.
Mary needed no telling that she would have to pay for her success, and she made no resistance when two of the hooded men ran up to her, seized her by the arms, and hustled her forward towards the Great Ram. For a moment he stared up at her with lack-lustre eyes, then comprehension and hate dawned in them.
Extending a hand to Wash he said thickly, ‘Help me up.’ Then when Wash had got him to his feet he went on, his words still laboured but pregnant with menace. ‘Give me a moment. I must think. I will not kill her. Death is too good; too easy. I must think – think of a curse. A curse to bring her living death. I have it. I’ll destroy her mind; turn her into a Zombie. No; no, I won’t. Here they would put her into an asylum and idiots can be quite happy when given enough food and the barest comfort. I’ll mar her beauty – teeth, eyes, hair – and cause her lingering agony from the gradual rotting of her bones.’
Mary faced him, her eyes distended, her mouth suddenly gone dry from horror. She had expected death, but no sentence so terrible as this. Yet she knew that even if she flung herself at his feet and grovelled there, she could expect no mercy from him.
There was a moment of dead silence. Even the lesser Satanists who had crowded round were awed by the thought of a once beautiful woman, toothless, hairless, purblind, dragging herself about while her bones were being slowly and painfully eaten away by a curse that would take the form of third degree syphilis.
The silence was broken by Wash, who said in a harsh voice, ‘She’s asked for everything that’s coming to her, Master. But in this place we’re all washed up now. That accursed crucifix is laying somewhere around. None of us dare touch it and the vibrations it gives off would stymie any magic attempted here.’
‘You are wrong.’ The Great Ram spoke tonelessly but with authority, ‘When it … it came in contact with me it burnt itself out. There is now no more power vested in it than in any other pieces of wood and ivory. Have the candles re-lit so that I may put my curse upon this woman.’
Several of the Satainsts made a move to obey, but Wash called sharply, ‘Hold it, folks; I’ve first a word to say.’ Then he turned back to Lothar. ‘Tonight, Chief, we’ve work to do: Our Lord Satan’s work, and a top-ranking mission at that. You don’t need me to tell you that laying curses drains power from even the strongest of us, and within an hour you may need all yours to pull us out should we come up against some snags. Leave this crazy bitch to me. I’ll deal with her later.’
‘No, I mean to curse her here and now,’ Lothar replied doggedly. ‘I am no little High Priest but the Great Ram; and under Prince Lucifer my power is inexhaustible.’
‘Sure, sure; no question about that.’ Wash’s tone was soothing but suddenly it changed to a sharper note. ‘When you’re yourself. But at this point you’re not. You’re as groggy as a brand-new battle-shock case. I’ve seen plenty and I know. So temporarily I’m taking charge here, and we’re all quitting this place right now.’
Amazement dawned in the Great Ram’s heavy-lidded blue eyes, then anger, and he exclaimed, ‘How dare you! No one gives orders in my presence.’
‘Maybe it’s unusual; but it’s just that I mean to do.’
‘Defy me at your peril. Remember there is always a tomorrow. At my leisure I could break you as easily as I could a reed.’
‘I know it, Exalted One, and I’m not such a fool as to defy you. But I want you to give me my way. To get it I’ll make a bargain with you.’
‘I do not make bargains with my inferiors.’
If you don’t make this one we’ll all go up in smoke, for having mucked the deal between us – you for playing unreasonable in refusing to delay your curse, me for having dug my toes in on that account.’
Wash reached out an enormous hand, clutched a handful of Mary’s hair, jerked her head roughly from side to side, and went on. ‘This woman is mine. For as long as I want her she’s to remain intact: hair, sight, hearing, toenails and all that goes on inside her. When I’m through with her you can lay your curse, but not before. You’ll either agree to that or tonight’s assignment is off. I’ll walk out on you.’
Still sweating with fear, Mary waited for the Great Ram’s reaction. Had he not been so shaken she felt certain that his hard, imperious, overbearing nature would have forced him to reject any compromise; but temporarily he had become like some great capital ship that had suffered a devastating air attack in which bombs had put all her barbetts out of action, so that she was heaving half awash in the sea, and capable now of using only the fire power of her minor armament.
After a moment of excruciating suspense his answer came. With a sneer he said, ‘The chains of the body must still be heavy on you to play such high stakes for any woman. But this is no time for us to quarrel. Let it be as you wish. Providing she does not escape the penalty for her sacrilegious act, a few weeks or months are of little importance. Anticipation of what is in store for her may even prove a refinement of her punishment. But you must inform me when you have tired of her.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Wash agreed. Then, raising his voice, he turned to the others. ‘Get moving, now! Two of you give a hand to the Master, here. The rest of you beat it back to the transport. And make it snappy. When you hit the base you know what to do.’
The fog still hung thick outside the chapel. It was that which had enabled Barney to get clean away. Wash did not delay to practise a magic which would have dispersed it, as the men of his coven were all so familiar with the ruins of the Abbey and the wood beyond that with their torches they could quite well find their way through them.
Except for the two who had come forward to support Lothar, they hurried off and were swiftly swallowed up in the greyish darkness. The Great Ram refused the aid of the two men who remained, but accepted their guidance and, with one of them carrying his head-dress, while the other shone a torch, they set off along the now trampled path through the sea of weeds that carpeted the ground between the mounds of stone. Wash, grasping Mary firmly by the arm, brought up the rear.
On reaching the far side of the wood they emerged abruptly from the belt of fog just in time to see three cars, which had been hidden among the trees, carry away the other members of the Brotherhood, all of whom had removed the monks’ robes that had concealed their uniforms. Wash ordered the two men who were escorting the Great Ram to take his robe and put it with his mask in the boot of his car, then follow with it. Lothar himself he installed in the front passenger seat of his own car, while Mary squeezed herself into the back among the pile of luggage. Having put his head-dress and robe into the boot, Wash came round to the driver’s seat and a minute later they were bumping their way back along the track to the road.
The drive lasted for some fifteen minutes during which, for the first time in what seemed many hours, but actually was little more than one, Mary breathed freely again. She had saved her dear Barney and had herself been spared the gruelling infliction of initiation. Lothar’s threat to reduce her to a ghoulish physical wreck remained. But Wash had saved her from that, at least for the time being; and she had an optimistic feeling that, now he had so clearly shown that he had fallen in love with her, somehow he would manage to ensure that she escaped the Great Ram’s vengeance.
She had heard Wash tell his men to return to the base, but had not realised that they too were on their way there until the car slowed down and, at a loud challenge, drew up. A sentry and a military policeman came forward. Wash gave the countersign, the two men saluted and the great wire gates were opened. They drove through them and on for a quarter of a mile between clusters of buildings, to pull up beside a hangar that faced on to the airfield. The three of them got out and Wash led them into it.
Inside there stood a small passenger aircraft that several men were preparing for flight. Its engines began to tick over and the hangar doors were opened. For a few moments they stood beside it. The luggage was brought in from the car and carried up the movable staircase into it. Lothar turned to Wash and asked, ‘Has the thing I’ve come for been loaded into her yet?’
Wash nodded. ‘My boys saw to that this afternoon. It’s in a big case and stowed in the tail. Go up and satisfy yourself it’s there if you wish.’
Without a word Lothar left them, walked up the steps and disappeared into the aircraft. That gave Mary the first chance she had had to thank Wash, without risk of being overheard, for saving her from being cursed. In a spate of words she began to do so.
Angrily he cut her short. ‘You sure must have been round the bend to do what you did. And later there’ll be no side-stepping for you from paying for it. All you’ve got to thank me for is a reprieve. Best make your mind up to get all you can outta life while your health is left to you.’
A junior officer came up, saluted and reported, ‘All set to get moving, Sir.’
Wash acknowledged the salute and, as the officer turned away, led Mary towards the boarding steps. In sudden apprehension she exclaimed, ‘Are we going too? I saw your luggage going up but I haven’t got my wits back yet. I didn’t realise…!’
‘Yeah, we’re going too. Your suitcase is on board.’ He thrust her before him up the steep steps.
‘But where?’ she cried with rising panic, as he forced her on in front of him. ‘Where are you taking me?’
‘To Russia,’ he answered tersely, ‘and we’re not coming back.’