De Richleau smiled. “Yes, I have already thought of that.” He moved softly to the big french windows and opened them wide. “It is a lovely night, is it not?” he murmured. “These rooms in summer must be quite charming, the view is superb.”
Leshkin shivered slightly as the March air penetrated the warm room. “What do you mean to do?” he asked.
“You are not interested in the sleeping city?” De Richleau moved away from the window. “But of course one would not expect that from you, who seek to destroy all the beauty of life—you have your eyes so much on the gutters that you have forgotten the existence of the stars.”
“What do you mean to do?” repeated Leshkin thickly. There was something terrifying about this quiet, sinister man with his slow measured movements.
“I will tell you.” De Richleau put down his cigar again and picked up a toothglass from the washstand. He took the small bottle from his pocket, uncorked it carefully, and poured the contents into the glass.
“Ha! you mean to poison me,” Leshkin exclaimed. “I will not drink—I refuse.”
The Duke shook his head. “You wrong me, my dear Leshkin—that is not my idea. It seems that in this question of extradition it is necessary to prove identity. You are the only person who can identify Mr. Simon Aron, Mr. Rex Van Ryn, and myself as the men concerned in the shooting that night at Romanovsk.” He carefully picked up the tumbler in his left hand. “If you were to become blind, Leshkin, you could not identify us, could you?”
“What are you going to do?” Fear had come into the Kommissar’s eyes.
De Richleau held up the glass once more. “This,” he said, softly, “is vitriol. I purpose to throw it in your face. You will be blinded beyond any hope of recovery. After that you may go back to Russia if you will.”
“No—no—” Leshkin cringed away, an awful horror dawned on his coarse features.
The Duke stepped round the little table, fixing the Kommissar with his brilliant eyes. Leshkin backed again quickly towards the window; he held his hands in terror before his face. “No, no, I will go back—I will destroy the extradition—”
“I fear it is too late.” De Richleau took another step forward; Leshkin made a sudden movement, as if to rush him, but as the glass was raised he gave back quickly. Now he was standing between the open windows.
“Are you ready?”
A grim smile played round the corners of the Duke’s firm mouth.
“Shoot me,” said Leshkin. “Shoot me!”
De Richleau waved the Kommissar’s automatic gently up and down. “You would prefer to die?” he asked evenly.
“No … no … I am not ready to die … give me time.”
“So—” the Duke mocked him. “You still think that God will help you when man will not? I am surprised that a man like you should believe in these effete superstitions. What is death, after all, but a cessation of activity?”
Leshkin was out on the balcony now, his hands behind him on the low stone coping, sweat was pouring down his brutal face.
“I prefer that you should be blinded. To shoot you might inconvenience myself.” With a sudden gesture the Duke raised the tumbler.
Leshkin shuddered and gave back once more. He shrieked as the contents of the glass hit him full between the eyes. For a second he swayed, wildly endeavouring to regain his balance, clutching with desperate fingers at the empty air—then, with a little moan, he disappeared into the depths below.
De Richleau smiled as he carelessly slipped the little bottle into his pocket, he replaced the Kommissar’s pistol beside the bed—the innocent borrowed weapon, for which he had no bullets, went into his pocket too. He laughed softly at his own handsome reflection in the mirror as he straightened his white tie. Then, picking up his cigar, he left the room as quietly as he had come.
As Leshkin hurtled towards the pavement a hundred feet below he was conscious only of one swift thought—his enemy had tricked him—it was nothing but cold water trickling down behind his ears.
A Note on the Author
DENNIS WHEATLEY
Dennis Wheatley (1897 – 1977) was an English author whose prolific output of stylish thrillers and occult novels made him one of the world's best-selling writers from the 1930s through the 1960s.
Wheatley was the eldest of three children, and his parents were the owners of Wheatley & Son of Mayfair, a wine business. He admitted to little aptitude for schooling, and was expelled from Dulwich College, London. In 1919 he assumed management of the family wine business but in 1931, after a decline in business due to the depression, he began writing.
His first book, The Forbidden Territory, became a bestseller overnight, and since then his books have sold over 50 million copies worldwide. During the 1960s, his publishers sold one million copies of Wheatley titles per year, and his Gregory Sallust series was one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming's James Bond stories.
During the Second World War, Wheatley was a member of the London Controlling Section, which secretly coordinated strategic military deception and cover plans. His literary talents gained him employment with planning staffs for the War Office. He wrote numerous papers for the War Office, including suggestions for dealing with a German invasion of Britain.
Dennis Wheatley died on 11th November 1977. During his life he wrote over 70 books and sold over 50 million copies.
www.bloomsbury.com/DennisWheatley
Duke de Richleau
The Forbidden Territory
The Devil Rides Out
The Golden Spaniard
Three Inquisitive People
Strange Conflict
Codeword Golden Fleece
The Second Seal
The Prisoner in the Mask
Vendetta in Spain
Dangerous Inheritance
Gateway to Hell
Gregory Sallust
Black August
Contraband
The Scarlet Impostor
Faked Passports
The Black Baroness
V for Vengeance
Come into My Parlour
The Island Where Time Stands Still
Traitors' Gate
They Used Dark Forces
The White Witch of the South Seas
Julian Day
The Quest of Julian Day
The Sword of Fate
Bill for the Use of a Body
The Launching of Roger Brook
The Shadow of Tyburn Tree
The Rising Storm
The Man Who Killed the King
The Dark Secret of Josephine
The Rape of Venice
The Sultan's Daughter
The Wanton Princess
Evil in a Mask
The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware
The Irish Witch
Desperate Measures
Molly Fountain
To the Devil a Daughter
The Satanist
Lost World
They Found Atlantis
Uncharted Seas
The Man Who Missed the War
Espionage
Mayhem in Greece
The Eunuch of Stamboul
The Fabulous Valley
The Strange Story of Linda Lee
Such Power is Dangerous
The Secret War
Science Fiction
Sixty Days to Live
Star of Ill-Omen
The Haunting of Toby Jugg
The KA of Gifford Hillary
Unholy Crusade
Short Stories
Mediterranean Nights
Gunmen, Gallants and Ghosts
This electronic edition published in 2013 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square,
London WC1B 3DP
First published in 1933 by Hutchinson & Co. Ltd.
Copyright © 1933 Dennis Wheatley
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise
make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means
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printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the
publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication
may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The moral right of the author is asserted.
eISBN: 9781448212552
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