'Your friend at the Rare Books Department?' I guessed.'Yes, enlisting my aid in narrowing down his field ofresearch. As you'll appreciate, the Necronomicon is a large volume — compared to which Feery's Notes is a pamphlet — and many of its sections appear to be almost repetitious in their content. The trouble was, I wasn't even certain that it contained what I sought; only that I believed I had read it there. If not—' and he waved an expansive hand in the direction of his own more than appreciable occult library, 'then the answer must be here somewhere —whose searching out would form an equally frustrating if not utterly impossible task. At least in the time allowed.'
'You keep hinting at this urgency,' I frowned. 'What do you mean, "the time allowed"?'
'Why,' he answered, 'the time in which Magruser must be disposed of, of course!'
'Disposed of?' I could hardly believe my ears.
Crow sighed and brought it right out in the open: 'The time in which I must kill him!' he said.
I tried to remain calm, tried not to seem too flippant when I said, 'So, you had resolved to do away with him. This was necessary?'
'Very. And once my enquiries began to produce results, why, then his death became more urgent by the minute! For over the next few days I turned up some very interesting and very frightening facts about our Mr Magruser, not the least of them concerning his phenomenal rise from obscurity and the amount of power he controlled here and abroad. His company extended to no less than seven different countries, with a total of ten plants or factories engaged in the manufacture- of weapons of war. Most of them conventional weapons — for the moment. Ah, yes! And those numbers too, Henri, are important.
'As for his current project — the completion of this "secret" weapon or "defence system", in this I was to discover the very root and nature of the evil, after which I was convinced in my decision that indeed Magruser must go!`
The time was now just after three in the morning and the fire had burned very low. While Crow took a break from talking and went to the kitchen to prepare a light snack, I threw logs on the fire and shivered, not merely because of the chill the night had brought. Such was Crow's story and his method of delivery that I myself was now caught up in its cryptic strangeness, the slowly strangling threads of its skein. Thus I paced the floor and pondered all he had told me, not least his stated intention to – murder? – Sturm Magruser, who now apparently was dead.
Passing Crow's desk I noticed an antique Family Bible in two great volumes, the New Testament lying open, but I did not check book or chapter. Also littering his desk were several books on cryptology, numerology, even one on astrology, in which 'science' Crow had never to my knowledge displayed a great deal of faith or interest Much in evidence was a well-thumbed copy of Walmsley's Notes on Deciphering Codes, Cryptograms and Ancient Inscriptions, also an open notebook of obscure jottings and diagrams. My friend had indeed been busy.
Over cheese and crackers we carried on, and Crow took up his tale once more by hinting of the awesome power of Magruser's 'secret' weapon.
'Henri, he began, 'there is a tiny island off the Orkneys which, until mid-1961, was green, lovely, and a sanctuary for sea birds. Too small and isolated to settle, and far too cold and open to the elements in winter, the place was never inhabited and only rarely visited. Magruser bought it, worked there, and by February '62—'
'Yes?'
'A dustbowl!'
'A dustbowl?' I repeated him. 'Chemicals, you mean?'
Crow shrugged. 'I don't know how his weapon works exactly, only what it produces. Also that it needs vast amounts of energy to trigger it. From what I've been able to discover, he used the forces of nature to fuel his experiment in the Orkneys, the enormous energies of an electrical storm. Oh, yes, and one other thing: the weapon was not a defence system!'
'And of course you also know, I took a stab at it, 'what he intended to do with this weapon?'
'That too, yes,' he nodded. 'He intended to destroy the world, reduce us to savagery, return us to the Dark. Ages. In short, to deliver a blow from which the human race would never recover'
'But—'
'No, let me go on Magruser intended to turn the world into a desert, start a chain reaction that couldn t be stopped. It may even have been worse than I suspected. He may have aimed at total destruction – no survivors at all!'
You had proof?'
'I had evidence. As for proof: he's dead, isn't he?' You did kill him, then?'
'Yes.'
After a little while _I asked, 'What evidence did you have?'
'Three types of evidence, really' he answered, relaxing again in his chair 'One: the evidence of my own five senses – and possibly that sixth sense by which I had known him from the start. Two the fact that he had carried out his experiments in other places, several of them, always with the same result. And three-2
'Yes?'
'That too was information I received through government channels. I worked for MOD as a very young man, Henri. Did you know that? It was the War Department in those days. During the war I cracked codes for them, and I advised them on Hitler's occult interests.'
'No,' I said, 'I never knew that.'
'Of course not,' he replied. 'No man has my number, Henri,' and he smiled. 'Did you know that There's supposed to be a copy of the Necronomicon buried in a filled-in bunker just across the East German border in Berlin? And did you know that in his last hour Hitler was approached in his own bunker by a Jew – can you imagine that? – a Jew who whispered something to him before he took his life? I believe I know what that man whispered, Henri. I think he said these words: "I know you, Adolf Hitler!" '
'Titus,' I said, 'there are so many loose ends here that I'm trying to tie together. You've given me so many clues, and yet—'
'It will all fit, Henri,' he calmed me. 'It will fit. Let me go on . . .
'When I discovered that Magruser's £2,000,000 "order" from the MOD was not an order at all but merely the use of two million pounds' worth of equipment –and as soon as I knew what that equipment was – then I guessed what he was up to. To clinch matters there finally came that call from the British Museum, and at last I had all the information I needed. But that was not until after I had actually met the man face to face.
'First, the government "equipment" Magruser had managed to lay his hands on: two million pounds' worth of atomic bombs!'
IV
'What?' I was utterly astonished. 'You're joking!'
'No,' he answered, 'I am not joking. They were to provide the power he needed to trigger his doomsday weapon, to start the chain reaction. A persuasive man, Magruser, Henri, and you may believe that there's hell to pay right now in certain government circles. I have let it be known — anonymously, of course — just exactly what he was about and the holocaust the world so narrowly escaped. Seven countries, Henri, and seven atomic bombs. Seven simultaneous detonations powering his own far more dreadful weapon, forging the links in a chain reaction which would spread right across the world!'
But . . . how . . . when was this to happen?' I stammered.
'Today,' he answered, 'at ten o'clock in the morning, a little more than five hours from now The bombs were already in position in his plants, waiting for the appointed time. By now of course they have been removed and the plants destroyed. And now too Britain will have to answer to the heads of six foreign powers; and certain lesser heads will roll, you may be sure. But very quietly, and the world as .a whole shall never know.'
'But what was his purpose?' I asked. 'Was he a madman?'
He shook his head. 'A madman? No. Though he was born of human flesh, he was not even a man, not completely. Or perhaps he was more than a man. A force? A power . . .