Simon groaned. “Somewhere in Siberia, isn’t it?”
“It is, my friend —” De Richleau smiled. “But Siberia is a large place — let us be thankful that poor Rex is not imprisoned at Tomsk, which is two thousand — or Irkutsk, which is three thousand — or Yakutsk, which is four thousand miles away! All of these are in Siberia!”
“Well, I’m glad about that!” Simon gave his jerky little laugh into the palm of his hand. “But how do we get there?”
De Richleau looked round carefully, to make sure that they could not be overheard. “I spent some little time,” he said, slowly, “before we left the hotel, examining the maps and time-tables that are provided. Tobolsk is unfortunately not on the main Trans-Siberian line — it lies about a hundred and twenty miles to the north of the railway; there is, I find, a local line from the little town of Tyumen, which is just on the border of Siberia and Russia proper, but the main-line trains do not halt there. There is another local line running back northwestward from Omsk, but that would mean going a further four hundred miles into Siberia to get to Omsk, and the loss of at least a day.”
“Seems a difficult place to get at!” Simon interjected.
“It is. I think that the best way would be by the Trans-Siberian to Sverdlovsk, or Ekaterinberg, as it used to be called, after the amorous Empress of that name! That is the last town of any importance in European Russia, and all the main-line trains stop there. From there we could take the Trans-Siberian branch-line which heads direct for Tobolsk, but which is not yet quite completed. It comes to an end at the west bank of the Tavda River, but, there is only a hundred miles between Tavda and Tobolsk, and it is almost certain that there will be a service of sleighs between the dead end of the railway and the town.”
“You — er — couldn’t find out definitely?”
“No, nothing at all about the unfinished branch from Sverdlovsk or the branch-line from Tyumen, and furthermore we must be very careful in our inquiries not to arouse suspicions that we have any idea of venturing outside the prescribed limits for tourists.”
“I — er — suppose —” Simon hesitated, “the American Embassy couldn’t do anything?”
The Duke laughed. “How can they, my dear fellow; their position today is the same as yesterday. If we had actual proof that Rex was at Tobolsk it would be a different matter, but to charge the Soviet with holding him there on the information given you by Valeria Petrovna would only provoke another denial. They would move him at once to another prison. The only way is to go there and find out the truth — the problem is how to get there. Personally I favour the plan of going to Sverdlovsk and then trusting to chance.”