The neighbourhood of the old fort was dark and deserted; he drew the car in under the shadow of the wall, and peered round anxiously for the others, but no one came forward to meet him. After a moment he shut off the engine, switched out the lights, and stepped down into the road.... Possibly they had thought it best to remain hidden round the corner... he whistled softly — there was no reply.
Simon began to feel worried; it must be nearly a quarter to eleven — he was terribly late — they should have been here for the last twenty minutes at least — and where was Richard? Had Shubin given them away? The escape been frustrated, and Richard arrested here a few minutes before his own arrival? He glanced apprehensively up and down the road. An occasional figure hastened by on the far side, only momentarily discernible in the dim pools of light cast by the infrequent street lamps. Nobody seemed interested in him or the car.
He limped round the corner and found the crumbling steps that led to the entrance of the fort. It showed — a pitch black rectangle in the faint glow that fell upon the pitted stonework of the walls; Simon climbed up to it, and stood for some minutes listening intently. An almost uncanny silence brooded over the close, musty darkness of the interior. “Richard!” he called softly, and although his voice was hardly above a whisper it seemed to echo back at him from the hollow darkness as though he had shouted aloud. He waited, but there was no reply, so he stumbled down the steps again and round the corner to the car, really frightened now that something had gone definitely wrong. A quarter of an hour should have been ample for them to get through the catacombs — perhaps the escape had been delayed — but even then what could possibly have become of Richard?
He climbed back into the car and sat there in the dark, thinking furiously of all the possible hitches which might have occurred. Should he drive back to the hotel or wait there in the hope that they would turn up? He feared that at any moment a policeman might come on the scene and want to know what he was doing there; or worse, if Shubin had actually given them away, that some of Leshkin’s people might arrive to arrest him!
By the time the sound of eleven striking was born faintly to him on the still night air, he was thoroughly jumpy, but he realized that if Rex and the Duke did make a belated appearance and he had already driven off, they would be stranded in a hopeless situation, so he determined to stick it out.
A moment later his quick ear caught the sound of footsteps near the corner of the wall, and a tall figure stepped up to the car, peering at him in the darkness.
Simon gave a sigh of relief. It could be no one but Rex, and that must be the Duke behind him.
“That you?” he whispered.
“Sure — Yakovkin told us there’d be a car to meet us — but we’re almighty late; and we’ve had an accident.”
“Never mind — hurry! — where’s Richard?”