Dangerous Inheritance (22 page)

‘It must take some time for the poison to take effect. The doctor will know that and, as you have a telephone, want to know why you didn't call him in at once.'

Ukwatte shook his head. ‘No. Death from cobra bite quite quick; much quicker than from other snakes.'

‘The jewels?' argued de Richleau desperately. ‘Now that your son is out of this your plan about them breaks down. You won't be able to make it appear that I ever had them.'

‘Yes, yes, I shall. They take you away with empty case in pocket. Nobody think to examine till morning. Inside will be copy of contract we both sign. But no stones, no. Everyone say then someone at hospital stole stones during the night.'

In vain the Duke racked his tired brain for further arguments that might deflect d'Azavedo from his awful purpose. If the worst came to the worst he was determined to make a fight for it. Better to be struck down and die of a heart attack than suffer the agony of a cobra bite. When younger he had been a fine swordsman and he grasped his malacca cane firmly, hoping that, if attacked, he might summon the strength and agility to lunge with it and plunge its end into one of d'Azavedo's eyes.

Suddenly the big paunchy man stood up. Exclaiming, ‘Come! I put an end to this!' he lurched towards de Richleau. The Duke rose at the same moment, his cane came up but his aged limbs had lost their swiftness of action. In one fierce swipe d'Azavedo knocked the cane from his grasp, then seized him by the shoulders, swung him round and propelled him towards the door.

Out in the hall a faded velvet curtain hid the back of the premises. De Richleau was pushed through the division in its middle. Still grasping him with one hand d'Azavedo opened a door on the right. It gave on to a room that was not in complete
darkness. Through slatted blinds moonlight lit it faintly, showing that it was empty except for a big wicker basket standing near the centre of the floor.

D'Azavedo gave the Duke a shove that sent him sprawling; then, taking a few steps forward, he gave the basket a violent kick that sent it over. A loud angry hiss came from it. Springing back he ran to the door, slammed and locked it.

As the Duke came to his knees he saw that the snake had emerged from the basket. The fact that it was about twelve feet long showed that it was indeed a king cobra, for the more common species rarely attains half that length. The bite of such a snake is so deadly that no antidote except vaccine has ever been found for it, and even that has to be injected quickly. The serpent's body, thick as a medium-sized hawser, slithered on the floor, swiftly forming into a coil. Its head reared up and the flat hood behind its neck distended. In the moonlight de Richleau could plainly see the strange white marking, like a pair of spectacles, on it. For a moment the evil head swayed from side to side while the brute's thin, forked tongue flickered in the distended jaws. The Duke was standing now; but only six feet from it. With another furious hiss the cobra drew back its head to strike and pour its deadly venom into the veins of its victim.

Simon did not get back to the Galle Face until after eleven, but the night porter recognized him at once and gave him the note that de Richleau had left for him. As he took in its contents he was filled with shocked concern. Then he saw that the Duke had scribbled a time at the bottom of the slip of paper—10.15. That meant he had been gone for the best part of an hour; but where? Next moment it occurred to Simon that in the past hour someone would have telephoned to the Rajapakses' home to let their head boy know about the accident that had befallen his master and mistress. Hurrying over to the porter's desk he picked up the telephone and got on to Douglas's house.

To his amazement it was Fleur who answered. For a few brief sentences they talked at cross purposes; then they got matters straight. She and Douglas had just got back from a pleasant dinner party; they had not been involved in any car smash and she had no idea who would have hoaxed the Duke, or why.

‘Enough for now,' said Simon tersely. ‘Coming round. Be with you shortly.'

People who had been dining out were still returning to the hotel; so Simon had to wait only a few minutes before the night porter was able to get him a taxi, and Douglas's house was not much more than a mile from the Galle Face. By half past eleven Simon was running up the steps to the verandah where Fleur and Douglas, having heard the engine of the taxi, were waiting at the open door to meet him.

‘Who could possibly have played this filthy trick on dear Grandpa Greyeyes?' Fleur asked indignantly.

‘Haven't a clue,' replied Simon a little breathlessly. ‘And if you haven't I doubt it's being a trick. Joke I mean. Now I'll tell you. Seems to me more like dirty work.' Turning to Douglas, he added:

‘Greyeyes is pretty rich. Worth holding to ransom. You must know the types of crime carried on in Colombo. Any local gangs who go in for the snatch racket?'

Douglas shook his sleek dark head. ‘No. There's been a big increase in crime recently, owing to the deterioration of the police. Plenty of cases of robbery with violence. Mostly in the streets at night. Murders, too, in the poorer quarter. But it is primitive crime for immediate gain. Not the organised kind that is needed for kidnapping.'

‘Then this is personal. Someone with a grudge against him.'

‘Oh, come! Greyeyes hasn't an enemy in the world,' Fleur protested.

‘He has,' Simon countered promptly. ‘The d'Azavedos.'

‘But the hatchet has been buried between them and him,' Douglas reasoned. ‘He's agreed to sign the contract they want; so what would they stand to gain by getting hold of him like this?'

Simon made an impatient gesture. ‘How should I know? But something. Fact that they tried to get him killed last time he was here shows they've no scruples. If they have got him this is a muddle, a really nasty muddle. Got to find out—and fast. Where do they live?'

‘I don't know,' Douglas replied, ‘but if they're on the telephone we'll soon get their address.'

As he spoke he ran back into the house and began to flick through the leaves of the telephone directory. A moment later, he cried, ‘Here we are. D'Azavedo, Ukwatte. Jetavana, Timbirigasyaya Road. That's inland off the main road to Mount Lavinia. From the Galle Face we're half-way there already. It's not much more than a mile from here.'

Simon had kept his taxi. His eyes flickered towards it, then he said quickly, ‘We'll go in your car. Might prove awkward
having a witness.' They ran down the steps together, Douglas to get his car out of the garage, Simon to pay off his taxi. As Simon turned away he saw that Fleur was pulling on a coat that she had snatched from a stand in the hall.

Running back to her he said with a shake of his head, ‘Ner. Can't have you in on this, ducks. Might be dangerous. But we'll want a torch. And Douglas's gun. He brought one to the Galle Face on Friday. Know where he keeps it?'

Fleur knew that there were times when Simon could not be argued with. After only a faint protest she hurried into Douglas's study and, a minute later, returned with a revolver and a large torch.

Simon took both, handling the gun gingerly as though it might bite him. He hated firearms. By then Douglas had brought the car round. As Simon turned towards it, Fleur suddenly pleaded:

‘Oh, let me come! Please let me come! It's not fair to leave me here. I'll be in agony until I know that dear Greyeyes is safe.'

‘Ner,' he said firmly. ‘Sorry. Can't be done, duckie. Let you know the moment we find out what's been going on.'

Douglas had the door of the car open. Scrambling in, Simon handed him the revolver, keeping the torch himself. Next moment they were off.

The drive took them only a little over five minutes. Bright moonlight showed up the houses in Timbirigasyaya Road so clearly that the names on their gates could be seen. As Simon spotted Jetavana he said, ‘Drive on a hundred yards before you pull up.'

Getting out, they hurried back to the house. There was a light over the front door and streaks of light came from a curtained bay window on its left. Tiptoeing up the short drive they tried to see into the room but there was no crack between the curtains large enough. The centre window was open at the top and for a couple of minutes they stood there listening intently, but no sound broke the silence.

Taking Douglas by the arm Simon drew him back then, still on tiptoe, led the way round to the rear of the house. There, a
French window opened on to a small, untidy garden. Behind the window a Venetian blind had been lowered but its slats were only partially closed. Stepping up to the window, Simon endeavoured to peer between the slats but he could at first see only bars of moonlight on a bare floor, some of which streaked across what looked like a shapeless bundle. Putting his hands on either side of his face to concentrate his gaze he continued to peer at the dark hump. Suddenly he realised that it was a body.

‘Oh God!' The cry came from his heart. ‘The Duke! Those devils have killed him.'

Next moment he had thrown all his weight against the French window. Its flimsy lock gave under the impact and he stumbled into the room. As he flashed on his torch, before he could focus it on the sprawled body its beam lit on the overturned basket. There came a loud angry hiss and the cobra reared up from beneath it.

Douglas was just entering the door. Over Simon's shoulder he saw the snake. ‘Look out!' he gasped. ‘It's a cobra.' Seizing Simon by the arm he dragged him back, then hastily shut the door.

‘Let me go!' panted Simon. ‘Let me go! De Richleau may still be alive. I've got to go in and get him.'

‘You can't.' Douglas grasped Simon by the shoulders and held him back. ‘He's dead already. A cobra's bite is fatal and kills quickly. You can't go in. I won't let you. It would be suicide.'

‘Where's your gun?' Simon demanded. ‘Give it me and I'll shoot the snake. He may not be past help. I've got to go in! I've got to!'

‘I won't,' Douglas declared firmly. ‘Unless you are a crack shot you wouldn't have a hope of hitting it. To try would be madness. A cobra can move like lightning. Its bite would kill you before I could reach a hospital and get back here with a serum.'

Tears were running down Simon's face. ‘Oh God!' he sobbed. ‘Just to think of it! My splendid friend. Dear, dear Greyeyes murdered by those fiends.' But he had ceased to struggle, and
allowed Douglas to lead him back round the side of the house.

When they reached the drive Douglas said, ‘We must get the police. They'll deal with the d'Azavedos. That is, if they are still in the house. I think they must be; or if not they'll return shortly. They'll not dare risk leaving the body to be discovered where it is, so will have planned some means of disposing of it before daylight.'

Suddenly Simon ceased sobbing and gulped, ‘You're right. All the odds are they're there and only waiting till it's certain that de Richleau's dead. But to hell with the police. This is my affair. I'm going in to get them.'

Douglas's coat hung open and the moonlight now glinted dully on the butt of the revolver, which he had thrust into the top of his trousers. Simon had caught sight of it and, snatching the weapon, turned towards the house.

Again Douglas seized him by the arm. ‘No! For God's sake, man!' he pleaded urgently. ‘Think what you'd be letting yourself in for.'

‘What do I care?' Simon's eyes were black with anger and he was trembling with emotion. ‘They killed my friend. The finest man I've ever known.'

‘But they are probably armed. Maybe they'll get you. At best, if you kill one or both of them it will be murder. That they killed the Duke will be no defence. Your grief has driven you crazy. It's lunacy to risk throwing away your life like this when the police can get them for you.'

‘The police!' Simon sneered. ‘Young d'Azavedo's pals. They're no better than the Nazis. They'll cover up for him. If I don't get them, no-one will. And I mean to. Now you keep out of this.'

When driven to it Simon could be a very tricky customer. In one swift movement he wrenched himself free and shot out his left hand. It caught Douglas on the chest and the violent push sent him sprawling backwards into some bushes. Next moment Simon had mounted the verandah steps and was at the front door.

Instinctively he grasped the knob and turned it. To his surprise
the door was not locked. Easing it further open, he peered inside. A single low-power bulb in a cheap glass shade lit the hall rather dimly. It was about seven feet wide and fifteen deep. There was a door on either side and at the far end a pair of worn velvet curtains shut off the back of the premises. Stepping cautiously into the hall he pushed the front door to, but not quite shut, behind him, then advanced a few paces almost noiselessly. Ahead of him the door on the left was ajar and the room beyond it lit. It must, he knew, be that with the bay window. Holding his breath, he listened. Still no sound came from it.

Seething with inward fury as he was, and obsessed with the idea of avenging de Richleau at the earliest possible moment, his mind remained clear. He was acutely aware that he was pitting himself against at least one extremely dangerous man, and perhaps two—if the son had aided his father in bringing about the Duke's death—and that either of them was likely to prove more able than himself in handling weapons. Therefore, his chances would be less than even unless he could take them by surprise.

Soundly, he reasoned that while waiting for de Richleau to be quite dead they would not have left the house, but have gone upstairs to their rooms and were probably lying there on their beds. If so he might catch one of them napping and shoot him before he had a chance to get to his feet. The sound of the shot would bring the other running but, with luck, he might be ambushed from behind the door and shot as he entered the room.