The Secrets of Dr. Taverner (34 page)

"I should be so grateful," she said, "if you would come to Dr.
Josephus' room and have a little talk with him."

"So far as I am concerned, I should be quite willing, but a
head injury ought to be kept quiet," I said, my medical self
triumphing over me in my new role of conspirator. To my relief
she brushed aside my objection.

"It will do more good than harm," she said, "because if he
takes to you, we may be able to get him to let you attend him. He
is a very tiresome person to deal with." She added with a smile,
as of a mother speaking of her spoilt darling of whom even the
naughtinesses are adorable.

She led me, not upstairs, but down into the basement, and
there, in what had probably been a scullery looking out into a
back yard, we found Josephus. The room was as amazing as the
man. Walls, floor, and ceiling were jet black, so that the room
was a hollow cube of gleaming darkness lit only by a shaded
lamp that stood at Josephus' elbow. He himself was not in bed,
as I had expected, but lay upon the piled up cushions of a divan,
robed in the burnous which seemed to be the universal wear of
this strange fraternity. In his case it was a flaming scarlet, and
lying back among his cushions, with his strange sallow face
surmounted by white bandages, he looked as if he had stepped
straight out of the Arabian Nights.

The tall woman subsided among her draperies on a stool at
Josephus' side, and he, with a wave of his hand, invited me to be
seated on the edge of the divan. He looked amazingly fit in spite
of the fact that he had had his head laid open at five o'clock that
afternoon, and even I, man though I am and knowing what I did
of his record, could feel the extraordinary fascination of his
personality.

The tall woman made us known to each other, and one could
almost see her anxiously smoothing his feathers and turning her
pet about to make him exhibit himself at his best angle, and he,
nothing loth, set himself out to make a favourable impression. I
could imagine invisible fingers feeling all over my soul to find
out the best way of handling me. I felt that his willingness to
consult me was a quick opportunism; it was I who was to be in
his hands, not he in mine, and I remembered Taverner's words
that a doctor was a useful thing when risky work that needed
concealment was afoot.

We talked for a few minutes, but I felt that he had no
intention of pressing the case against the chauffeur, probably
valuing his privacy more highly than any compensation he was
likely to get; all the same, he pretended to want my evidence, but
I put my foot down.

"Look here, sir," I said. "You have had a certain amount of
concussion, and the one thing for you is darkness and quiet. I
will come to see you again in a few days when you are in a
condition to go into the matter, which you are not now. But at
the present moment not another word will I say unless I can be
of any use to you in my professional capacity."

I saw by the tall woman's amazed expression that Josephus
was not accustomed to be talked to in this fashion, but he took it
quite amicably.

"Ah," he said, with a grin which roused all my latent
animosity against the man, "I have resources that you ordinary
medical men know nothing of." And we parted with mutual
expressions of esteem.

I picked up McDermot at the oyster dive, and he took me
back to the flat that had been his home, where it was arranged
that I was to stop for the next few days pending developments
with Josephus. The rooms bore pathetic witness to the truth of
his story. I could see the disordered evidences which told me
that he had first put away all the things that could remind him of
his wife, and then, in desperation, got them out again. We settled
down with our pipes amid the neglect and muddle, and
McDermot went over the story for the twentieth time. He could
tell me nothing I did not already know by heart, but the telling of
it seemed to relieve him. It was the old story of the paddler who
got into deep water, striking those unsuspected potholes in the
unseen which for ever threaten bathers who cannot swim if they
venture into those dark and uncharted waters.

I did not call on Josephus next day, for I did not want to
appear too pressing, but the following day I rang him up on the
phone. The great man himself answered my call and was more
than cordial.

"I wish I had known where to find you," he said. "I should
have asked you to come round yesterday."

I picked up a taxi, and was soon at the house whose lower
shutters seemed to be kept permanently closed. Once again I was
taken to the strange subterranean sanctum which seemed so
appropriate a setting for that rococo personality which was
known to us as Dr. Josephus. His head was naturally still in
bandages, though the burnous had given place to a grey lounge
suit, but even so, he would have been a marked man anywhere. I
had thought Taverner the strangest personality I had ever met,
but he was normal compared to Josephus.

He made coffee himself in the Turkish fashion, produced
cigarettes rolled in a curious golden paper of a type I had never
met before, and set himself to the task of intriguing my
imagination, in which, in spite of my knowledge of his record,
he certainly succeeded. Like Taverner, his culture was
encyclopaedic, and he seemed to have travelled off the beaten
track in most parts of the world. I admit quite frankly that I
thoroughly enjoyed myself. It did not take long before the talk
edged round to occultism, in which I avowed my interest, and
then Josephus began to spread his feathers, cautiously at first, as
if to see if the ice would bear, and then he opened his heart when
he found that I had some knowledge of the subject and did not
appear to be overburdened with moral scruples.

"The trouble with this sort of thing," I said, "is that although
one can hear any amount about the theory, it is extraordinarily
difficult to get hold of anything tangible. Either the people who
do all the writing and lecturing haven't got any real knowledge,
or else they haven't got the nerve to put it into practice."

He rose to my bait like a fish. "Ah," he said, "you have hit
the right nail on the head. Precious few men have the nerve for
practical occultism," and he preened himself in a way that told
me where the man's weak spot lay.

Josephus paused for a moment and seemed to weigh me in
the balance, and then, watching me carefully and choosing every
word, he began to speak.

"I suppose you know," he said, "that a very little
development would render you psychic?"

I was frankly surprised, and, I admit it, secretly flattered, for I
had always been held up as the archetype of materialistic
stolidity. Then I remembered that Taverner had often laughingly
quoted these very words as the stock opening of charlatanism,
and I pulled myself together, with a sudden angry defensiveness,
for it startled me to see the extent to which Josephus had
obtained empire over my imagination during our short
intercourse. I hid my uneasiness, however, and returned his lead
in kind.

"Psychism is all right so far as it goes," I said, "but what I am
really interested in is ritual magic,"

It was a bow drawn at a venture, and I saw that I had overshot
the mark, as I generally do when I try to swim with the brass
pots in the deep waters of occultism. Josephus did not quite like
it; why, I could not make out, and he seemed to edge away from
me mentally.

"Know much about ritual magic?" he asked with an
assumption of ease which I felt sure he did not feel.

I did not know what he was driving at, and not wishing to be
caught out, I followed Mark Twain's advice, and fell back upon
the truth.

"No," I said frankly, "I do not." And, catching the look of
relief on Josephus' face, I added mentally to myself, "And
neither do you."

He spoke again, pausing impressively between each word.

"If you are in earnest, and are prepared to take the risk, I can
show you something that very few men alive at the present time
have even dreamt of. But," he continued, and I saw that his
quick brain was rapidly maturing a scheme, "I shall have to test
you first."

I bid him name his test.

Still eyeing me closely, evidently trying each step and ready
to back away from his intention the instant I showed any sign of
uneasiness, he continued:

"I shall test first," he said, "your incipient psychism, by
seeing whether you have sufficient intuition to discern my
intentions towards you and trust me without question."

I thought that this was the neatest presentation of the
confidence trick I had ever met, and bowed my assent.

"You will come tonight at a quarter to nine to the alley that
runs at the back of these houses; the coal cellar opens on to it,
and I will be there to admit you. You must wait in the coal cellar
until I have re-entered the house, and you hear sounds of
chanting, and then you must come through the other door of the
coal cellar, which communicates with the yard. The bars of that
window take out if you push them downwards, and they are held
in place by springs, and you can get into this room, but be sure
to replace the bars, I don't want anyone to find `em loose. In
here you will find behind the cushions a bright scarlet robe with
a cowl like an Inquisitor's. Put it on and pull the cowl right
down over your face, there are eye-holes in it, and walk boldly
upstairs to the first floor and give five knocks on the
drawing-room door. When the door is opened, say `In the name
of the Council of Seven, Peace be unto you,' and walk right in
and up to me; I shall be cowled the same as you, but you will
know me because my robe is also scarlet. I shall be on a dias at
the end of the room. When you get up to me, I shall rise, and we
will shake hands, and then you will take my chair, and I shall sit
at your right. You will stretch out your hand and say:

"`I come in the name of the Great Chiefs.'"

"Then we will proceed to business. You will answer yes or
no, to any question you are asked, but nothing more. And if you
fail--" and he pushed his ugly face right into mine, "you will
have to reckon with the Unseen Forces which you have invoked.
Is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear," I said. "Only I am not sure that I can
remember it all, and how am I to know whether to answer yes or
no?"

"You will watch me out of the corner of your eye. If I stir my
right foot, you will answer yes, if I stir my left, you will answer
no. I shan't move `em much, so you must keep a sharp lookout.
And when I fold my hands you must stand up, say `It is
finished,' and walk out. Come down here and clear out the way
you came, being careful to see that the red robe is well hidden
under the cushions, the bars replaced, and the coal cellar door
shut."

When Josephus finished he looked me straight in the eyes
with a very steady gaze, which I returned equally steadily. I
allowed a moment to elapse before I replied, for I did not want
to appear to accept with too great alacrity.

"I'll take it on," I said.