The Satanist (31 page)

‘Yes, I think I would,’ Mary replied.

‘Then I will run one for you while you undress. Put all your things away in the wardrobe. Nothing must be left about to indicate that you are an ordinary woman. To make her prophecies more impressive a Priestess should surround herself with mystery.’

When the bath was running, the tall, coldly beautiful woman came back into the bedroom, and Mary said to her: ‘Abaddon told me that the Brothers and Sisters of the Ram all take the names of wizards and witches who actually lived in the past; so it came as a great surprise to me when he called you by the name of a Pope.’

A faint smile touched the finely chiselled lips of the High Priestess. ‘My dear, I fear you are still very ignorant. For many centuries after Christ the Impostor, nearly all the Christian Bishops knew enough of the truth to follow the Old religion in secret, and many Popes served Our Lord Satan well. Pope Leo the Great and Pope Silvester II both enjoyed His special protection, and Pope Honorius was the greatest magician of them all. It was he who wrote
Le Grimoire
which, with the
Clavicule of Solomon
, is the most profound work on the Secret Art ever produced.’

By this time Mary had undressed, and for the next ten minutes she luxuriated in the warm, scented water of the big bath, her enjoyment now only a little marred by thoughts of what the next hour might hold for her. The test she was being given seemed simple enough of accomplishment, and there was nothing about it to disgust or frighten her; yet, all the same, she could not rid herself of an uneasy premonition that it might develop into something much
more unpleasant than she had any reason to expect.

As she got out of the bath she was trying to assure herself that her fears were groundless, that by nine o’clock, or half-past at the latest, she would have left this haunt of evil for the last time, be breathing again the clean air of the streets and, soon afterwards, be giving Colonel Verney all the information he needed to swoop upon and arrest Teddy’s murderers.

Wrapped in a huge bath-sheet she returned to the bedroom and said to Honorius, ‘As I’m to go to bed I must have a nightie. I take it there is one here you can lend me?’

The High Priestess shook her head. ‘For this affair you will not wear one. An essential part of Abaddon’s design is that when you sit up in bed and put one arm round Mr. X’s neck you should be naked.’

Mary blanched. She knew only too well the effect that the sight of her nude body had on men. This was just the sort of thing she had feared. It must be part of their plan that Mr. X should attempt to rape her.

Mary had gone into the business with her eyes open. Both Colonel Verney and Barney had not minced matters in telling her the sort of thing she must expect if she became one of a circle of Satanists, and she had frankly intimated to Verney that she would not regard giving herself to a stranger too high a price to pay for a good chance to bring Teddy’s murderers to justice. All the same she had hoped, by one means or another, to evade that issue; and luck had been with her. She had that evening secured concrete evidence against Ratnadatta so, even if she had not promised Barney to break with the Satanists, for her to seek to worm her
way into their confidence had now become pointless.

Earlier, when she had believed that to become an initiate was the only road to doing so, she had hoped that at least she would be allowed some degree of choice in taking a lover from among the Brotherhood, so that she could select one who would be both physically acceptable and capable of protecting her from unwelcome attentions by the others. When Ratnadatta had told her that she must be prepared to render ‘service to the Temple’ at her initiation, she had more or less implied that she would not go through with it if the stranger who was to accept her offer of herself proved to be repugnant to her. He had replied that Satan so arranged matters that his votaries always derived pleasure from such ceremonies, and she had accepted that assurance – for what it was worth.

But what was it worth? Or his other assurance that nothing would be asked of her until her initiation? The Brotherhood of the Ram consisted entirely of men and women given over to evil; to expect any of them to keep a promise was, therefore, to build on sand. She had thought herself clever enough to get away with it; to make this last visit to the Temple so that she could find out where it was situated, and then have it raided that night. She had found out, but she knew now that she had taken the pitcher to the well once too often. It now seemed certain that, willing or unwilling, they meant to give her to one of their number within the next half-hour. And she was trapped.

Glancing sideways at Honorius she asked, ‘This man, Mr. X, what is he like?’

‘I have never met him,’ the Priestess replied. ‘But from what I have heard he must be past middle-age and rather a common person. Anyway, not of the type which we should ordinarily admit to the Brotherhood. He is being brought here only so that we can forward Our Lord Satan’s work.’

‘Am I… am I to be left alone with him?’

‘Of course.’

‘But if he sees me naked in bed, he may…’

‘I expect he will.’ A cold smile again twitched the lips
of the tall, fair-haired Honorius. ‘He would hardly be human if such a sight did not stir his blood.’

‘Then I will prophesy, but I’ll not sit up in bed,’ Mary declared, firmly. ‘I’ll not tempt him by letting him see my body.’

‘You will do as you have been ordered, my child.’ The Priestess’s voice was icy, and her fine features more than ever severe. ‘Let us have no nonsense about this. Abaddon will be watching your every move. Should you fail him you will find his wrath no light matter. You are as yet not a Sister of the Ram, only a neophyte. He could, at a touch, make all your hair fall out; or might decide to chasten you by giving you for the night as a plaything to the Zombies.’

At these appalling threats, Mary paled and said, hastily: ‘I meant only that I’d not expected anything of this kind to happen this evening.’

‘Who said it would? You jump too quickly to conclusions. As I have told you, Abaddon will be watching and, should matters look like going further than he wishes, he will intervene.’

Only partially reassured, Mary asked, ‘How could he if I am to be left alone with Mr. X?’

Honorius gestured towards the wall on the far side of the bed. ‘Look more closely at those two flower paintings. You will see that their frames are not hung but fixed to the wall. Both are painted on two layers of canvas. There is nothing between them and the next room. A person in there can slide back the lower layers of canvas and that leaves several holes among the flowers and foliage of each picture. Through them anyone can see into this room, and from behind one of the pictures Abaddon will be observing how you conduct yourself with Mr. X. When matters have reached the point that he desires he will press a buzzer that sounds in the sitting-room. I shall be waiting there and, on hearing it, come straight into you.’

These complicated arrangements in connection with Mary’s test left her completely out of her depth. Having, while hidden herself, looked down through one of the balcony
grills on to proceedings in the Temple, it did not particularly surprise her to learn that in this house of mysteries there should be spy-holes through some of the pictures; or that, having set her a test, Abaddon should wish to see for himself how she carried it out.

What puzzled her so much was the nature of the test. Why should they wish her to play the part of prophetess when Honorius, or some other Sister of the Ram with past experience, must be far better qualified for such a job? Why must she pretend to be ill and prophesy only in a whisper? Why must she throw the bedclothes back and expose herself to Mr. X unless, they wanted him to try to seduce or rape her?

Perhaps that was what they did want, then to see how she would react to such a situation. But, if so, why the pretended illness first; for, surely, nothing could be worse calculated to prepare Mr. X’s mind for an impulse to make love to her? And why these elaborate arrangements to enable Abaddon to intervene whenever he felt inclined? At what point in the proceedings would he do so?

What was their object in bringing there this elderly man who, by a strange snobbery, they apparently considered not of good enough class to be admitted to the Brotherhood? If her acceptance or rejection of this man on the grounds that he was no maiden’s dream was the test, it seemed an extremely stupid one. In her dark days in Dublin she had found that men of middle age were generally much more considerate than younger ones and that, provided a man was decently clean in his habits, once he took off his clothes there was little to indicate, apart from his voice, to what class he belonged.

Anxiously she wondered if they wished her tamely to submit to Mr. X’s probable advances, display wit and cunning in stalling him off or, if need be, fight him like a tigress. It seemed to her evident that her passing this strange test depended on her adopting the course they expected of her; but which course that was, she had no means of guessing nor, as it was a test, could she expect to receive any direct
guidance. She could only keep herself alert for any hints which might yet come her way and deal with the situation as it developed in the light of them.

Her thoughts were brought back with an unpleasant jolt to the immediate present by Honorius saying, ‘Sit down at the dressing table and I will do your hair.’

For the past six weeks Mary had taken considerable pains to ensure that no one should suspect that her hair was dyed, but it grew quickly, and almost daily she had to take precautions against the new golden hair showing as it pushed up from its roots. Even standing close to her, no one would have guessed that she was not born a brunette, but another woman actually combing and parting her hair would almost certainly have become aware that she was actually a blonde, and blondes are not given to dyeing their hair dark brown without some very good reason.

Fearing now that such a discovery would lead to her being asked some very awkward questions, Mary said quickly, ‘Please don’t bother. I can quite well do it myself.’

For a moment her heart was in her mouth, as she thought it quite possible that Honorius might tell her that the hair of a priestess had to be dressed in some special manner; but to her relief the tall woman, so deceptively clad in nun’s garments, replied: ‘Very well, then. But part it in the centre as I do mine, then, as there will be no coif to hide it, we can arrange for it to fall to the best advantage framing your face.’

When Mary had brushed and combed her hair, and re-made-up her face, the Priestess dabbed a scent with a strong musk basis behind her ears, where her neck merged into her shoulders, and on her breasts, then told her to get into bed.

As she slid down between the cool lawn sheets, she thought philosophically, ‘Since I’ve made my bed, and have got to lie on it, I could easily have found a worse one. I must try to think of myself as a soldier going into battle. Even if Abaddon does not intervene, it will all be over in an hour and I’ll be free of these devilish people for good.
And what a kick I’m going to get about midnight as I watch the whole lot of them being bundled into police vans.’

Honorius went for a moment into the sitting-room, then returned carrying a large full glass, which she gave to Mary telling her to drink it up. It was the same rich herb-scented wine that she had drunk while with Ratnadatta on the terrace. The two glasses of it she had had then had quieted her nerves and conditioned her to accept with a certain degree of resignation the fact that she had bitten off more than she had bargained for, and must now go through with it. In two long draughts she drank this third ration of the heady potion and, lying her head back on the pale blue satin pillow, began to view Mr. X’s approaching visit as no longer anything to be greatly concerned about, but as a matter which might prove most intriguing.

Abaddon now came quietly into the room. Having looked about him he smiled his appreciation at Honorius and told her to wait in the sitting-room until Mr. X arrived. Then he began to catechise Mary about the prophecy she was to make. Again and again he made her repeat what she was to say until she was word perfect and had got her voice down to the low pitch that he desired. Satisfied about that he then made her rehearse the last phase of the act, in which she was to throw back the bedclothes, sit up and put her right hand at the back of Mr. X’s neck.

After she had done it three times and again lay back, he stopped her from pulling the sheets up to her chin, gently touched her breasts and murmured, ‘You are a beautiful girl; very beautiful.’

Mary made no reply, but lay there looking up at him.

His long slim fingers moved from her breast up to her cheek. For a moment he stroked it softly. The finger-tips slid down, caressed her chin, then she felt them on her neck. Bending above her he brought his other hand into play, so that the fingers of both stroked her from the ears down to the shoulders, then his two hands became still. They closed round her throat.

Staring up at him she saw his pale blue eyes. They were no longer consciously looking down at her, but faintly glazed.

With sudden awful horror she realised the truth. This High Priest of Evil, who had never shown her anything other than courtesy and kindness, who looked so benign and benevolent, was, in fact, a strangler. It must have been to satiate his lust in safety when the fits came upon him, as a victim of this most terrible of all perversions, that he had become a Satanist.

Her mouth opened to scream. Abaddon’s thumbs jabbed downwards, cutting short her cry. His lips curved into a terrible smile and a low maniac chuckle issued from them. His eyes were now quite blank. Throwing up her arms she seized his wrists and strove to break his hold. Violently, she threw herself from side to side, but those slim fingers of his seemed to be made of steel. Her eyes were starting from her head, her lungs seemed about to burst.

Into her wildly agitated brain there came the terrible thought that this must be the end of the road that Ratnadatta had all the time destined for her. He was Abaddon’s creature and must be employed by him to lure girls to the Temple so that in this beautiful bed the evil High Priest could strangle them.