Dennis Wheatley - The Forbidden Territory

The only regular means of transport seemed to be the trams — and at each stopping place the waiting crowds swarmed upon these like a flight of locusts; there seemed no limit to the number they were allowed to carry, and people who could not force their way inside hung from the rails and platforms at the back and front. One thing that astonished Simon was the extraordinary number of people in the streets — they all seemed to be hurrying somewhere, and he thought that some sort of national holiday must be in progress, but when he suggested this to the Duke, De Richleau shook his head.

“No, my friend — it is only the effect of the five-day week! There are no more Sundays in Russia, or Saturday half-holidays. Everybody works at something, in a series of perpetual shifts, so that from year’s end to year’s end there is no cessation of industry. The factories are never idle, but each individual has every fifth day free — therefore, one-fifth of the entire population of this city is on holiday each day.”

“So that is why there are so many people about — I’m surprised at the queues, though; I thought all that was done away with.”

“While there is no system of delivery there must be queues.” De Richleau shrugged his shoulders. “A great part of everybody’s free time is spent in queueing up for necessities; besides, there is never enough of anything; if you apply for a hat or a pair of new boots, your co-operative society notifies you when they receive a consignment. If you need your boots badly, you must run to be early in the queue, or else there will be none left to fit you, or perhaps no more at all. If you live in Russia now, you must even go out to fetch the milk in the morning — that is, provided you are entitled to a milk ration. Nine-tenths of the milk supply is turned into butter in order that it may be dumped in England, and more machinery bought for the new factories with the money. That’s all part of the Five Year Plan!”

“God-forsaken place! Glad I’m not a Russian,” said Simon, feelingly; “but what about the private shops? Why do the people go to the co-ops and queue up, when they can buy the stuff elsewhere?”

“It is a question of money; everything in the private shops costs from four to five times as much as in the State Stores. The great majority of the people cannot possibly afford to buy from them.”

For some time they had been walking through less crowded streets, and at last they arrived in a small square of what must have been, at one time, respectable private houses. Most of them were now in a sad state of dilapidation.

De Richleau stopped outside one of the least disreputable, which bore the arms, painted in colour on a metal shield above the front door, of one of the lesser South American republics. The word “Legation” was also written up, both in Russian and Roman capitals. He gave a quick glance round — the little square was practically deserted — then he stepped up, not to the front door but to a smaller entrance a few paces farther on, and rang the bell sharply, twice.

The door was opened almost immediately, and, without speaking to the little dark man who held it open, the Duke pushed Simon inside, slipping in himself directly after.

“Is Señor Rosas in?” he asked. “I come from Señor Zavala.”

“Yes, señor, this way — please to follow me.” The little man led them down a long passage to a room at the back of the house.

A swarthy individual rose to greet them with a charming smile. The Duke introduced himself.

“But, yes, Excellency — my good friend Zavala wrote to me from London of your coming. Your case has safe arrival in the diplomatic bag — it is here beneath the table.” Rosas indicated a small, stout packing case. “You would like it opened? But certainly!” He rang the bell, and asked for a chisel and hammer; very soon the wooden case had been prized open, and an inner one of shining tin, about two feet long by a foot wide and eighteen inches deep, placed upon the table. “You would like the privacy to assure yourself of the right contents of the case, Excellency, is it not?” smiled Señor Rosas. “Please to make use of my room — no, no, it is no trouble — only ring when you have finished, that is all!” He slipped softly out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Now let us look at our famous Hoyos.” De Richleau seized the ring that was embedded in the soft lead strip that ran round the top of the case, and pulled it sharply. A wire to which the ring was attached cut easily through the soft lead, and a moment later he had lifted out the two cedar cabinets of cigars.

Simon opened one with care, and ran his fingers lovingly down the fine, dark oily surface of the cigars. “Perfect,” he murmured; “travelled wonderfully!”

“But that is not all, my friend!” The Duke had opened the other box. The cigars were not packed in two bundles of fifty each, but in four flat layers of twenty-five to the row, and each layer was separated from the other by a thin sheet of cedar wood. Very carefully De Richleau lifted out the top layer on its cedar sheet, and then the next Simon looked over his shoulder and saw that, neatly packed in the place where the two bottom layers of cigars should have been, there reposed a full-sized, ugly-looking automatic.

The Duke removed it, together with two small boxes of ammunition and the packing. “You will find a similar trifle in the other box,” he remarked, as he gently lowered the two trays of cigars into the place where the pistol had lately been,

Simon unpacked the second box with equal care, the Duke taking the two layers of cigars from it, and placing them in the box before him. When all was done, there remained one box full of cigars, the other — empty.

“What — er — shall I do with this?” said Simon, a little doubtfully, as he gingerly picked up the other deadly-looking weapon, with its short blue steel barrel.

“Inside your left breast pocket, my son. It is far too large to carry upon your hip — the bulge would show!”

Simon did as he was bid. They rang the bell, and Señor Rosas rejoined them.

De Richleau thanked him courteously. “There is only one thing more,” he added, “if we may trespass upon your good nature?”

“Excellency, please to command, I beg!”

“I should be grateful if you would be good enough to send this full box of cigars, in a plain parcel, addressed to me at the Hotel Metropole. The other — it contained some papers which I wished to receive undisturbed — I should be glad if you would burn that”

“It shall be done!” The Spaniard’s quick smile flashed out again. “A thousand pleasures to be of assistance to you, Excellency.”

When they were once more out in the square De Richleau tapped his pocket with a grim little smile. “We are short of a hundred cigars,” he said, “but we may be infinitely more thankful to have these before we are out of Russia.”

After walking for some half an hour they came at last to the Park of Culture and Leisure.

“Now,” said De Richleau, with a sigh of relief, “we can talk freely.”

“Well, I’ll tell you,” Simon 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!”