The Dream Killer of Paris (16 page)

The wait was interminable.

Despite his promise, James was not back after twenty minutes.

It was three o'clock in the morning and I was beside myself with anxiety. I paced up and down outside the fortress, climbing the steps at regular intervals to examine the courtyard through the keyhole, trying to spot my friend.

I had just gone down the steps again for the umpteenth time and was standing on the path when I thought I heard muffled voices below. I immediately hid behind a shrub.

Someone was coming up to the castle. I prayed that James wouldn't reappear at that very moment!

I fell to the ground and held my breath.

At the top of the path four figures appeared, walking in single file. The first was athletically built and wore a leather jacket and cap; he was closely followed by a man of average height with greying temples who was dressed in a dark coat; about six feet behind them a young woman with a scarf stuffed into her mouth and her wrists tied was being closely guarded by a man who looked enormous.

Despite the full moon I couldn't make out the features of the man in the coat but I immediately had the same uneasy feeling that I had experienced every time I became aware of the Austrian's presence. Deep down, I knew that the man who had hidden behind the mask of Andreas Eberlin, Hans-Rudolf von Öberlin and Herr Kessling was a few feet away from me.

As the group passed me, I heard the first man speak to the second in German. I didn't understand what was said but he called him Herr Professor twice.

When they reached the castle, they climbed the steps and stood
in front of the wicket gate. The man in the jacket took out a torch and turned it on to help the man I supposed to be Kessling open the door. Then they entered the square tower.

As the young woman refused to follow them, the giant seized her firmly by the waist and heaved her on to his shoulder. Carrying the girl, he too entered the
Burg
and didn't close the door behind him.

I only hesitated for a few seconds. An opportunity like this wouldn't come along again and I couldn't possibly leave James to get out of such a tricky situation on his own.

I dashed out of my hiding place, went up the steps and slipped into the tower.

Their footsteps reverberated in the quiet of the night. Far away, the torchlight danced in the shadows.

I didn't want to risk bumping into anything, so I crawled to a kind of trunk and hid behind it.

The group had reached a door from which electric light spilt and for a moment I could see where I was. It was an old weapons room, completely empty apart from the trunk I was leaning against. A little further away, half a dozen cases were piled up.

After a few minutes the man in the jacket came back. The beam of his torch narrowly missed me and, luckily, he didn't see me. He closed the door to the wicket gate, locked it and disappeared again, this time leaving me in complete darkness.

I couldn't go back. Now I too was locked in the castle. I had to find James, and quickly.

I got up and struck a few matches to light my way. I put my ear up against the door at the end of the room. I couldn't hear anything so I opened the door and poked my head round.

I found myself in a kind of ante-room leading through an open door to a long passage. In the middle of the room was a table with a bottle of brandy, two half-empty glasses and two piles of playing
cards. It appeared that the party had been interrupted by the appearance of Kessling and his accomplices.

Including the three who had just arrived, there were now at least five people in the fortress, not counting the young female prisoner.

What should I do now? And where was James hiding?

The group had probably gone through the passage. Relatively wide at first, it narrowed after thirty or forty feet and became a simple corridor, nine feet wide, with a series of heavy doors with locks and peepholes. Cells!

Right at the end, a red wooden door provided access to the tower with the pointed roof.

I had already gone through the door and was moving into the passage when I heard moans coming from one of the furthest cells. I could have sworn it was a woman's voice. Her groans were turning into violent cries, echoing through the old walls of the fortress.

Abruptly, the red door opened and a small man wearing a white doctor's coat came out, accompanied by Kessling and the man in the leather jacket.

I only just had time to turn round and hide in a corner.

The scraping of a bolt indicated that they were opening the cell. The cries ceased for a moment and then grew even louder before stopping again, giving way to a heavy and agonising silence.

I was about to leave my hiding place when a noise behind me made me jump. A few steps away there was a wooden door which I hadn't noticed before, providing access to the courtyard. When it rattled again it was clear that someone was trying to open it from the outside.

I had to react or it would all be over for me. As soon as Kessling's accomplice opened the door I would be discovered.

The door had already begun to open. I pressed myself up against the wall and got ready. As a sturdy-looking fellow came over the threshold, I immediately pounced. Unfortunately, I had already
launched myself when I recognised the barrel of James's
semi-automatic
shining in the darkness. I was about to throw myself at my faithful friend. My knee smashed into his hip while my foot struck the hand holding the pistol, pressing his finger down on the trigger.

The shot rang out just as we fell on to the flagstones.

We got up at the same time, imagining that our enemies would appear from all sides. Instead of the clatter of their feet, however, we heard yet more increasingly frequent and deafening cries.

The detonation had mingled with the loud cries and seemed to have gone unnoticed.

‘Good heavens, Andrew! What has got into you? You almost broke one of my ribs!'

‘Sorry. I thought you were one of Kessling's men. Did you know that he's here with two of his sidekicks?'

‘I thought it must be him. He didn't hang around then, the blighter!'

‘Have you been able to explore the castle?'

‘Only part of it. I couldn't get close to the cells. Two men were watching the corridor from a distance, playing cards. But a woman is being held, I'm sure of it.'

‘Kessling came with a prisoner. It must be her we can hear.'

‘No. The cries started before he arrived.'

In the corridor the captive was screaming her head off.

‘It's enough to make your blood run cold!' I exclaimed. ‘It sounds like she's being tortured.'

‘Or—'

The screams suddenly stopped and in their place we could hear little whining sounds. Plaintive wails – like those of a newborn baby!

From the sound of voices in the passage, the three men appeared to have left the cell and were returning to the tower with the pointed roof.

With renewed energy I got up and approached the corridor.
James did the same after picking up his gun.

As I looked down the passage, the man with the cap was about to close the door. The doctor and Kessling had already gone through. In the doctor's arms I glimpsed the naked body of a newborn baby and Kessler was smiling like someone who had just done something amazing.

The words of the telegram came back to me: ‘We have chosen new breeders. Confirmation birth 1 expected on 23rd. Awaiting your return to participate in great work.'

Today was 23 October as of four hours ago. These people were diabolically precise. That was when the terrifying truth dawned on me. Suddenly, I knew what the Marquis de Brindillac's incredible discovery had been and the secret behind Herr Kessling's elaborate, absurd and insane enterprise.

A shiver ran down my spine, and my fear intensified as I felt a sudden pressure against the back of my head. I was right to be alarmed. When I turned round, I found a blond man with a face covered in scars waving a pistol under my nose. Next to me, James had his hands on his head and was being threatened with a
semi-automatic
.

The sidekick, who had a shaved head and sharply pointed ears, barked at me savagely: ‘
Hände hoch! Schnell!
'

I obeyed and put my hands up.

James's pistol was now tucked into the guard's belt.

The two men pointed to the corridor. In silence we walked past the cells to the door through which Kessling and his accomplices had disappeared.

The man with pointed ears knocked on the door.

‘
Gehen Sie hinein!
’ replied a voice.

The door opened. I was pushed through first.

We entered a room which was only partly furnished. An old couch and coloured leather chairs were arranged in a semicircle in front of a fireplace with a blazing fire.

On either side of the hearth were shelves filled with
leather-bound
books. Elsewhere, coats of arms covered the walls – probably dating from the days when the castle had been an ancestral home.

Above the couch a ceiling lamp provided dim light, barely supplemented by two antique chandeliers and a crystal lamp. On the right a stone staircase led to the upper floors. The rest of the room was in semi-darkness.

The athletic-looking man, who had put his leather jacket and cap on the back of a chair, was leaning against the mantelpiece with a glass in his hand. He watched us enter without saying a word or showing any surprise.

Opposite him, with his back to us, sat Kessling, his hair visible above a large yellow leather armchair. A thick cloud of smoke floated above his head.

The man in the white coat and the newborn baby were not there.

‘Ah! Mr Singleton, Mr Trelawney! We were expecting you. But please, do come in!’

The invitation was given in perfect English.

James and I exchanged disconcerted looks.

Our host was leaning over the arm of his chair and, for the first time, I could see him properly. He was about fifty-five with black hair streaked with silver and brushed back. He had a square face, a strong jaw and a high forehead which attested to a proud and determined temperament, but it was not a particularly remarkable face apart from the eyes! Oh, those eyes! What eyes! So dark, so black, so deep! The most intense eyes I had ever seen and, above them, a pair of eyebrows shaped like circumflexes.

And yet, the person in front of me was not a stranger. I recognised the shape of his head and the proportions of his features. Was it because I had tried to picture his face so many times over the last few days?

‘Andrew!’ murmured my friend. ‘I know this fellow!’

‘Aha!’ roared Kessling, getting up from his chair. ‘But yes, my friend! You are right, we have already met.’

He was dressed in an elegant grey wool suit and he seemed eminently respectable with his black tie and shiny shoes.

‘I had longer hair and splendid glasses with tinted lenses,’ he encouraged us, observing our confusion. ‘The theatre is my great unfulfilled passion. It is a compulsion. I have to dress up and change the way I look and speak.’

‘The musician!’ exclaimed James. ‘At the Café de la Place Blanche!’

‘Impossible!’ I cried. ‘The goatee was real. Otherwise, I would have pulled it off!’

Kessling approached us, clapping his hands. He was delighted with the effect he had had.

‘Bravo, Mr Trelawney, bravo! The secret is in the glue. The one
I use was invented by an old make-up artist from the Burgtheatre in Vienna. He created it for Christian-Dietrich Meyerinck at the start of his career. The actor suffered from excessive sweating and his hairpieces had the unfortunate habit of coming unstuck in the middle of a show at the most dramatic moment. Imagine the audience’s hilarity! Happily, thanks to this very effective glue, he has been able to play all the classical roles and is internationally renowned. A mixture of lemon water and bicarbonate of soda is all that is required to remove the effects of the glue.’

He went to draw on his cigar but it had gone out. He flicked his lighter and played with the flame, studying us.

‘How did you know that we were in the castle?’ asked my friend.

‘You followed me on to the Orient Express. There was no reason to think you wouldn’t find out where I was hiding. It was a question of knowing when. I admit that you have been even faster than I expected. When Franz over there went back earlier to lock the tower, he caught a glimpse of someone in the light of his torch. Of course, he didn’t react. It was more amusing that way. But don’t stand on ceremony, gentlemen. Sit down!’

The two brutes behind us pressed the barrels of their weapons into our backs.

‘Georg! Josef! Be polite, please. Ah, my friends, please excuse their manners which are a little uncouth. But they are loyal.’

We moved forward and sat on the couch.

‘Why did you try to kill André Breton, Herr Kessling?’ I asked. ‘Or should I use another name for you?’

‘That one is fine. Or, even better, do me the pleasure of calling me Johannes.’

‘So what reason did you have to kill Breton? Despite his interest in sleep and dreams, he had not entered into contact with the spirits of nature.’

‘That is true, or at least not yet. But those Surrealists are always to be feared. By eliminating their leader, the entire movement would have been reduced to nothing in one go.’

‘In that case, why did you not repeat your attempt?’

‘Because an adversary appeared that I was not expecting, one who was a match for me, clever and perceptive.’

Kessling inclined his head in my direction as he spoke.

‘When I saw you at the Café de la Place Blanche, Mr Singleton, with your pale face and dark circles under your eyes, I understood that the gates of sleep had been opened for you. Those who cross that line wear it clearly on their faces. No one knows why!’

‘And so you thought you had to kill me? Because it was you in the Orient Express wasn’t it, that revolting creature which almost strangled me?’

‘Kill you? I never dreamt of such a thing, Mr Singleton! I just wanted to give you a good fright. On the contrary, my greatest wish was for you to join me in this obscure place so that I could present you with the fruits of my research. That is the least I could do to honour your intelligence! Then the time will come to give you the
coup de grâce
, you and your friend.’

‘Your research?’ enquired James, pretending not to notice the threat. ‘Can you be a little clearer?’

‘I would call it the most scandalous of enterprises,’ I said. ‘Remember, James, the book we found under the Marquis’s bed at Château B—?’

The Austrian was delighted. He listened to us placidly, blowing smoke rings up to the ceiling.

‘
Le Comte de Gabalis?
’

‘Yes. The author reveals that amorous alliances between men and ethereal creatures can bear fruit, can create children who look human but whose mind, ingenuity and physical powers are phenomenal. If
such immaterial unions were possible, the instigator of that birth would have a priceless asset at his fingertips.’

‘Are you saying,’ exclaimed James, ‘that what we heard earlier—’

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘A child born of a woman and an elemental spirit.’

Kessling stubbed out his cigar and turned to me.

‘One asset? Only one? Ha! You are very shrewd, my boy, but you still lack that vital spark. Appetite, by Jove! Ambition! Singleton, believe me, it is not just one I seek to create, it is a squadron, a battalion, an entire army of true masters!’

I glanced at James. He appeared to be as stunned as I was.

‘In a few weeks’ time,’ Kessling went on, ‘I intend to inseminate a large number of female elementals. At the same time, their males will impregnate the human females I have chosen. I have had one transported to the castle. Tonight, I will summon a virile representative of the elemental people to the top of the tower and order this holy union. You shall witness the marriage. It is time to begin the reproductive programme on a vast scale!’

This man was a monster.

Franz had left the fireplace and was sprawled on one of the chairs, his legs stretched out in front of him.

Georg and Josef were still in their places, halfway between their leader’s chair and the door, making escape into the corridor impossible.

Behind us, the stairs offered a way out but what could we have done once we got up there? Kessling would have taken care to lock all the exits of the
Burg
. And, of course, the group was not complete. The man in the white coat and the huge man in charge of the prisoner on the path were missing. No doubt the doctor was looking after the infant but what was the other one doing? Guarding the future bride?

The best thing we could do was try to gain some time.

‘You say, Herr Kessling, that you have learnt to make these
ethereal peoples submit to your ambitions. In that case, why did you not send one of them to me on the Orient Express? It would have been less dangerous than spiriting yourself into my sleep. I have read in books on magic that such psychic journeys are very risky.’

‘Oh that! You have no idea how unpredictable elementals are! They may be our equals in terms of cunning and even knowledge, but they are skittish and bossy, very often lacking in moral sense. Anyone who tries to control them must take care that the servant does not turn against his master because then it would all be over for him. That is why I only have moderate confidence in their kind. I much prefer their human offspring. By mating with our males and our females, these invisible spirits give birth to beings which, as the great magicians discovered, naturally and instinctively obey. For now, operations which require – how can I put it – a certain finesse, well, I like to do them myself!’

Kessling looked at his watch and then ordered Franz to go and find someone called Bernhard at the top of the tower.

‘Five o’clock in the morning already!’ announced Kessling, rising. ‘In a little over two hours daybreak will be here. I want the second member of my future army to be conceived tonight, the same night as the first was born. Like me, you know how important symbols are.’

After a pause, the henchman reappeared at the bottom of the stairs.

‘
Sie fest schläft!
’ he announced.

‘
Wunderbar!
’

The Austrian’s face was radiant.

‘The bride is sleeping like an angel. I will be able to proceed with the invocation. Follow me, my friends. It is time to go to the marriage bed. I’m sure you’re dying to see for yourselves.’

Kessling went up the stairs, followed by Franz who had taken the
precaution of picking up an oil lamp. James and I, still at the mercy of Georg and Josef’s pistols, fell in behind them.

We followed them until they reached the top of the tower and a door guarded by the giant – Bernhard no doubt. He was slouched on a chair which threatened to break at any moment, his arms resting on a table where a candle was burning. He was even more enormous than I had thought.

The door had a peephole like the cells in the passage.

The landing was ridiculously small and we could not all feet on it at once. One of Kessling’s men, Josef or Georg, I don’t know which, was still standing on the top step.

It was a strange place for a marital bedroom. No doubt Kessling had chosen it because it was right at the top of the castle, within reach of the sky. Symbols again. The other tower was actually taller by at least thirty feet but it was also closer to the village. Here, overlooking the Danube, there was no one to hear any screams.

‘Gentlemen, I am going to enter this room and begin the invocation. It is not the only method to contact a representative of the elemental spirits. Another is to pass through the gates of sleep oneself to gain access to the invisible kingdom. There, with experience and great psychic strength, one can force a spirit to accomplish marvels. But, in the circumstances, it is better to conjure one up.’

Kessling indicated that Bernhard should open the door. He took an enormous key out of his trouser pocket and inserted it into the lock.

‘I advise you not to miss any of the ceremony,’ added Kessling, pointing to the small opening in the door before it closed behind him.

It was out of the question that I should approach the peep hole. But James, despite my exhortations, couldn’t stop himself putting his eye up to the wire mesh.

Bernhard had sat down again. The key had not been returned to his pocket but was lying on the table near Franz’s oil lamp.

Franz kept eyeing us suspiciously.

‘Kessling is standing in the middle of the room,’ murmured my friend. ‘There’s a large four-poster bed at the end. I can’t see very well, there isn’t much light, but I can see the shape of a body. It must be the prisoner.’

James was silent for a few seconds and then resumed his commentary.

‘It’s strange. Now my eyes are used to the darkness, I think I can make out a large pattern on the floor in front of Kessling. A sort of star with five points.’

‘The pentagram or Flamboyant Star,’ I replied. ‘The traditional symbol of the domination of the spirit over the elements. By drawing that star thaumaturgists enslaved creatures of the air, fire, water and earth in order to force them to submit.’

This time James remained silent for a long time, taxing my nerves.

In the end, I could take it no longer.

‘What is he doing now?’

‘He’s chanting but I can’t understand what he’s saying.’

At that moment Kessling must have moved on to a new stage of his invocation because I could suddenly hear his voice loudly reciting a prayer in Latin.

‘Now he’s really bellowing!’ exclaimed James. ‘But the sleeping woman is still not waking up.’

‘She is imprisoned in her sleep under the control of the incubus.’

My friend turned from the peephole to look at me.

‘We can’t let him do this, Andrew!’

Bernhard was still sitting on his chair. On my left Franz was looking us up and down with a sly smile. Behind us Josef and Georg
were standing on the edge of the landing, their pistols at the ready.

Suddenly hurried footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. Whoever it was must have important news to impart. Before he appeared at the top of the tower I heard him wheezing and he had to stop several times to get his breath back. At last, the man in the white coat made his way past Georg and Josef and stood in front of Franz, hands on hips, gasping.