The Forbidden Territory Read Online Free

passport
visa
in the ordinary way—that will take some little time. Book by the direct route to Moscow,
via
Berlin and Warsaw—you will cross the frontier at
    Negoreloye; I will meet you in Moscow after making my inquiries in Helsingfors, and combing the Consulates in Leningrad for any information which they may have.”
    Simon nodded. “What about the Embassies here. I suppose you’ve done what you can?”
    “Yes, but quite uselessly. The American Embassy had already been questioned by Washington on behalf of Channock Van Ryn, but they could add nothing to Moscow’s report that ‘Rex left on December 11th for an unknown destination’.”
    “How about mun?”
    “Who?” asked the Duke, vaguely.
    “Money—I mean,” Simon corrected with a grin.
    “I would suggest a good supply. It is permissible to carry any currency into Russia, only the amount must be declared, in order that no question can be raised as to taking it out again.”
    “Won’t they be suspicious if I—er—bring in more than I should need in the ordinary way?”
    “Yes, perhaps. Therefore it would be best if you declare only one third of what you bring; conceal the rest about you—in your boots or the lining of your waistcoat. I am sending a reserve for myself by way of that excellent Embassy bag. It is quite possible that we may need a considerable sum for bribes, and, if we can find Rex, for arranging a method by which he can be smuggled out of the country. If we declare all that we have when we go in—it might be difficult to explain upon what it has been expended, when we go out. You must remember that all travels, hotels, food—practically everything is supposed to be paid for before we start.”
    “Jack Straw?” queried Simon, suddenly “I can’t help wondering what he meant by that. Do you think there’s anything to be done there?”
    De Richleau ran his hand lightly over his forehead. “What do you suggest?”
    “Well, I’ll tell you. I don’t think it would do any harm if I went up to Hampstead one evening—had a look at the people that go there these days—we might get a line.”
    “An excellent plan; you will have ample time.”
    “Do you happen to have an atlas?” Simon asked with a little laugh. “I’ve almost forgotten what Russia looks like!”
    “But certainly, my friend.” De Richleau produced a heavy volume. For a long time the handsome grey head of the Duke remained in close proximity to the dark profile of Mr. Simon Aron, while the two talked together in low voices.
    Some two hours later, De Richleau saw his guest down the broad stairway of Errol House to the main hall, and out into the silent deserted streets of Mayfair.
    “You will not forget Jack Straw?” he said as they shook hands. “And twelve o’clock at the Ilyinka Gate a fortnight hence—it is best that we should seem to meet by chance.”
    “I’ll be there,” said Simon, adjusting his top-hat upon his narrow head. “The Ilyinka Gate, Moscow, at twelve o’clock, fourteen days from now.”

Chapter III
“Valeria Petrovna”
    Simon Aron stepped out of a taxi in front of his cousin’s house in Hampstead one night, a little more than a week after his dinner with the Duke.
    Simon was a very rich young man, but it was an interesting point in his psychology that he lived in one small room at his club, and did not own a car. The taxi-driver, however, had no reason to be dissatisfied with his tip, although he had had a long and chilly wait outside Jack Straw’s Castle.
    His cousin Miriam’s house was one of those long, low, modern mansions standing back from the road in its own grounds. The short gravel drive and the roadway on each side were lined with private cars of all makes and sizes; the windows of the house were a blaze of light; it was evident that a party was in progress.
    Having greeted the maid at the door as an old friend, and divested himself of his silk scarf, white kid gloves, stick, and shining topper—Simon was soon in