The Forbidden Territory by Dennis Wheatley Read Free Book Online

laughed into the palm of his heavily gloved hand, “I’m glad about that!”
    “My friend,” said the Duke, seriously, “before—it was impossible; there are eyes and ears everywhere. Have you noticed those little ventilators in your bedroom at the hotel? They are microphones, so that all you say may be overheard. In the restaurant, along the walls, there are microphones also; Russia is pleased to welcome the tourist or harmless business man, but always the Kommissars are terrified of counter revolution. It is not easy for the small Communist party to keep an entire population in subjection on short rations; and how can they tell who is the tourist, and who the secret enemy of the Soviet, only by watching? You may be certain that the parcel containing our Hoyos will be opened and examined before it is delivered to me—yes,” he smiled, “and they will look below the two top layers; that was why I did not dare have the case delivered to me just as it arrived. Even the streets are not safe, a passer-by may overhear some chance word, and immediately one is suspect—that is why I brought you here. In these open spaces we are safe—we can speak our thoughts aloud—but only here, remember that!”
    “I will,” said Simon, briefly. “Now—any news of Rex?”
    “No,” the Duke shook his head. “My advertisementsin the Finnish papers at Helsingfors brought no response. The messenger is, perhaps, by this tune in Paris or New York, or more probably he is an illiterate who can hardly read. I had to word the advertisements with care, of course, and I did not dare to use my own name—the Russian authorities might have seen them, and refused to allow me to pass the frontier. I worded them as far as possible as if they had been inserted by the American Legation, or a relative who was seeking news of Rex. In any case they have proved useless.”
    Simon nodded. “Bad luck that; I didn’t have much fun either. I went up to Jack Straw’s Castle three times; got to know the barman and the manager quite well, but there wasn’t a Russian near the place. Just the usual quiet, old-fashioned pub; no trace of any special club using it as a meeting place either, and very little business doing at this time of year.”
    “That is bad—one moment!” The Duke swung on his heel, to confront a seedy-looking man who, although apparently uninterested in them, had approached silently from behind.
    The man lurched up as De Richleau turned, and asked in Russian for a light; the Duke gave him one without comment, and they moved on until he was out of earshot.
    “Do you think that chap was listening?” Simon asked, nervously.
    “I shouldn’t think so—just a lounger. Now tell me, have you had any ideas on the subject of Rex’s mine?”
    “Ner. I’ve been puzzling quite a lot about that. Have you?”
    “No; it completely defeats me. I did not have any good fortune in Leningrad either, although I questioned everyone that I knew in the Consulates.”
    “What’s Leningrad like?” Simon inquired. “As dreary as this place?”
    “Worse, my friend; it is a dying city. These Kommissars are no fools; they know that all the wealth and fertility of Russia lies in the South, and it is here that they are making their great efforts for the future.”
    “I suppose you’ve been to the American Embassy?”
    “Yes, but they can tell us nothing that we do not already know. Rex arrived here on the 4th of December, did the usual round of sight-seeing, and left again on the 11th.”
    “What do we do now?” Simon asked, thoughtfully.
    “There is one possible line of inquiry which a friend of mine in the Italian Embassy suggested to me. It seems that there is a small ‘stoloveya’, that is, a restaurant of sorts, in the lower quarters of the town, where certain discontented elements in the population meet. There is nothing at all against them, you understand, or they would be arrested at once by the Ogpu, but it is thought that many of