“It’s not that,” Simon shook his head quickly. “Did you — er — notice the three workmen who came in before the dance?”
“Yes; what of them?”
“Well, I don’t know, of course, but I’ll tell you — I believe one of them was the chap who asked you for a light in the Park yesterday.”
“Indeed!” De Richleau raised his slanting eyebrows. “What makes you think that, my friend?”
“He had a cast in one eye; nasty-looking little chap. Mind you, I may be mistaken.”
“Would you know him again?”
“Um,” Simon nodded, “I think so.”
“In that case we must keep a sharp look-out. It is by no means unusual, in countries where there is a large organization of secret police, for one agent to be set to watch another. This man may be acting quite independently of our official guides, and unknown to them. We must be careful!”
They had entered the Zoo while they were talking, and found the eagles’ house without difficulty, but they looked in vain for Jack Straw. A keeper stood near the door at one end; the only other occupant of the big aviary was an elderly gentleman with fine, flowing white moustaches. He looked as if he had seen better days.
As they walked slowly along the cages they drew near to the old man, who was advancing in the opposite direction. Pausing now and again to admire the birds, they came together before a cage of vultures near the centre of the house.
“Filthy brutes!” said the old man, suddenly, in a surprisingly youthful voice, as he pointed with his stick.
“They are as Soviet Kommissars to the Royal Eagles who are Tsars,” the Duke answered, softly.
“You fooled your guides well last night,” the other went on, in perfect English, “but you must be careful — there are certain to be others watching you.”
“Thank you. Can you give us news of Van Ryn?”
“No, don’t know what’s happened to him, but I know why he came to Russia!”
“Good, that may be helpful.”
“He was after the Shulimoff treasure; the old Prince buried it himself before he cleared out in ’seventeen; there’s said to be millions of roubles’ worth of gold and jewels — God knows where it is, the Bolshies have been hunting for it for years — but that’s what Rex is after.”
The effect of hearing this youthful English voice proceeding from the grey-moustached lips of the elderly Russian was so queer that Simon had difficulty in restraining his mirth. They walked slowly down the line of cages towards the door at the opposite end from that at which the keeper stood.
“Stout feller, Rex,” their elderly companion went on. “Knew him when he came over to play polo for the Yanks in nineteen twenty-nine. I hope he’s all right.”
“I received a letter asking for assistance a fortnight ago,” said the Duke. “It was posted in Helsingfors. He was in prison somewhere — but where, I have no idea, unfortunately; he must have run up against the authorities in some way.”
“Probably found wandering in forbidden territory; they’re pretty strict about that. Large areas are closed altogether to foreigners.”
“Where — er — was Prince Shulimoff’s estate?” inquired Simon. “That might give us a line.”
“That’s just the trouble; the old boy was fabulously rich. He had a dozen places; one outside Moscow, another near Leningrad; a villa at Yalta — that’s the Russian Riviera, you know. Then he had an enormous territory near Tobolsk, in Siberia, and places in Pskov, and Yaroslavl, and the Caucasus as well; and being such a wily old bird, he may not have buried the treasure in any of them; the old scout may have thought it safer to stow the goods in one of the monasteries, or the cellars of a friend!”
“Looks as if we’d have to make a tour of Russia!” remarked Simon, with a chuckle.
“I say,” said the young-old man, suddenly, “you might do a job of work for me, will you? When you get back to London — that is, if you do,” he added, smiling under his moustache — “just drop into the Thatched House Club and ask for Colonel Marsden; give him this message from Jack Straw: ‘Stravinsky’s got twelve, and six, and four’. Will you? He’ll know what that means — think you can remember?”
“Colonel Marsden — Stravinsky’s got twelve, and six, and four,” repeated the Duke. “Yes, I shall remember.”
“Splendid. I’ll probably get that bit through another way as well, but one can’t have too many lines. I’ll tell you another thing. If you do make a round trip of the Shulimoff estates, and get anywhere near Tobolsk, keep your eyes skinned — there’s a great deal of activity going on up there just now, and we’d like to know what it’s all about, if it’s just another commercial stunt connected with the Five Year Plan, or something military. Give Marsden anything you pick up; it’s all the odd bits of information, pieced together, that make a whole, you know.”
De Richleau smiled. “I trust that we shall not be called upon to visit Siberia, but you may be certain that we shall keep our eyes open if we do!”
“That’s the spirit. Sorry I can’t ask you fellows back to the Club for a drink, but my position is hardly — er — official, you know — Look out!”
They had almost reached the farther door of the aviary. Turning quickly, they saw a seedy-looking individual, dressed like a clerk, who had entered without their having heard him. He was apparently studying a hawk. After a second he glanced slyly in their direction, and both Simon and the Duke were quick to notice that he had a cast in one eye!
Both made a movement to leave the vicinity of their elderly friend, but as they turned again they found that Jack Straw had vanished — silently and completely away!
VII — Simon “Almost” Falls in Love
Later that morning, as Simon waited in the lounge of the Hotel Metropole, he wondered if Valeria Petrovna had remembered her promise to lunch with him. It was already a quarter past one, and she had not yet put in an appearance. He thought it more than probable that she had never taken his invitation seriously, and to guard against this possibility, on his return from the Zoo, he had caused the hall porter to ring up and leave a message at her apartment.
The clock marked two minutes after the half-hour when she arrived, looking radiantly beautiful, enveloped in magnificent furs, both hands outstretched as she hurried across the hall.
“Oh, Mistaire Aron, what a surprise to see you ’ere!”
“Well,” he smiled his little amused smile as he offered her his open cigarette-case, “it’s Thursday, isn’t it?”
“Of course it ees Thursday, but nevaire did I think to see you, all the same; it was late at night when you ask me, after the party — I thought the champagne ’ad gone to your ’ead!”
“Ner — not the champagne!” said Simon, with a quick look.
She laughed delightedly. “Silly boy! Next you will be telling me that you ’ave fallen in love with me!”
“Well,” said the cautious Simon, “I don’t mind telling you — I almost think I have!”
“You almost think, eh? That is rich; nevaire in all my life ’ave I met a man who only thinks ’e ees in love with me!”
Simon drank in her superb dark loveliness. “What a woman!” he thought, and then: “Good thing I’m not given to falling in love, or I should be making a fool of myself! What about a spot of lunch,” he said, getting up from his chair and smiling blandly into her eyes.
“Lunch — yes, but a spot — what ees that?” she asked, turning and leading the way to the restaurant.