There was a doorway at the end of the passage — a doorway to the right. The door was open; it extended into the passage, against the wall in front of Bruce Duncan.
The young man watched the door suspiciously, then moved to the end of the passage and turned to the right. He stopped short, his hands behind his hips, concealing the automatics.
A man was seated at the table. He turned as he heard Duncan's approach. It was Bernardo Chefano.
"Good evening," said Chefano in a suave voice. His lips twisted in a slight smile. "You are Major Weston?"
"Yes," replied Bruce.
"Come in," said Chefano cordially.
Duncan waited. He had the advantage here. From his position he could command both the room and the passage to the outside. He was standing in semidarkness. Chefano could not see the position of his hands. Bruce looked about the room. He wondered where the terrible ape-faced creature was.
"What is the matter?" questioned Chefano smoothly. "I have been expecting you, major. I suppose you expected to find my uncle, Prince Samanov." The criminal's face took on a saddened expression. "I am sorry to inform you, major. My uncle is dead."
"Dead?" echoed Bruce. He knew that Chefano had not recognized him as the man who had been attacked by the ape-faced creature. He had not expected to be recognized.
"Dead," repeated Chefano. "Killed in battle, a martyr to our cause. Step inside, major. I have waited long to meet you."