Free Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07 by The Second Seal

highly placed officers and government officials who are
not members of the Black Hand, and so secure the removal of all opposition from
his path. He controls secret funds which he can use for bribery in cases where
threats fail. His post entitles him to know the innermost secrets of Serbian
diplomacy; and among his agents there must be men whom, under the pretext of
national safety, he can order to commit assassinations. You see now how grave
is the danger that I fear. What is there to stop such a man, in such a post,
choosing his own moment and creating an incident that will lead to war?”
    While the Duke
had been speaking, bursts of hearty cheering had broken out above them in the
ballroom, and now the band struck up the Austrian National Anthem. Midnight had
come: the revellers had unmasked, and were openly showing their delight at the
presence in their midst of the lovely Archduchess Ilona Theresa.
    Mr. Marlborough
stood up. “You must forgive me if I leave you now, Duke, but I must pay my
formal respects to Her Imperial Highness. Our talk has been most interesting.
In fact, it will give me much to think about, and you may be sure that we shall
not lightly dismiss the warning you have brought us. To procure for you a
commission in the British Army is, I fear, beyond my powers; but if there is
any other way in which I can be of service to you, pray don’t hesitate to let
me know.”
    As De Richleau
murmured his thanks, Sir Pellinore boomed:
    “Bit above my
head, all this international stuff; but I’d like to hear more about your
soldiering. Perhaps you’ll lunch with me one day? Where you staying?”
    “The Coburg,”
replied the Duke. “And I should be delighted to lunch with you.”
    “Right! Drop you
a line about that. Best leave you here, now, though; and spare the blushes of
the lovely Archduchess, eh?”
    The three of
them had just emerged from among the banked-up orchids. With a nod, and a
twinkle in his bright blue eyes, Sir Pellinore turned away with the First Lord
and, side by side, they crossed the broad, open space, beneath the centre of
the marquee. As they reached the iron staircase leading up to the ballroom, he
asked:
    “What d’you make
of him, eh?”
    Mr. Marlborough’s
heavy brows drew together. “It’s hard to say. He must know that we can easily
verify his claim to have served the Turks as a general, so it is unlikely he
was lying to us about that: and he certainly is no fool. He gives the
impression of being both shrewd and honest; but perhaps he has deceived
himself. I pray God that it may be so; for if he is right about Dimitriyevitch
we will have even worse worries on our hands than the Irish business, before we
are much older.”
    “He’s on to
something, all right. I’d bet a packet on that,” muttered the tall baronet. “All
he said ties up with bits of stuff that have been reaching me for months past.
This Black Hand thing exists, of course. Has done for years. Not a doubt about
that. So does Dimititch—or whatever the damn feller’s name is. Constant
replacement of people holding big jobs in Serbia by comparatively unknown men
has been puzzling me a bit. This amorous young Duke has provided us with a
solution that’s all too clear. But what’s his game, eh? Has he been sent here
to pull a double bluff? Is he on our side, or theirs? That’s what I’d like to
know.”
    The First Lord
nodded. “Yes. The sooner you have him vetted, the better. There should be
plenty of information available about a man of his rank and past political
activities. Get Vernon Kell to let you have all that is known about him. Of course,
his request to be given senior rank in the British Army is quite preposterous.
But he says that he is of British nationality and, if his heart is really in
the right place, other work can be found for him. In fact, I believe a man
having the qualities of this Duke de Richleau might prove invaluable to us.”
    “You’ve hit the
nail on the head as usual,”