in the river, but a major with his throat cut had unquestionably been murdered. Now he had to hide the body. He looked up. “Sonja!” “I feel ill.” “Never mind that. We have to make the body sink to the bottom.” “Oh, God, the water’s all bloody.” “Listen to me!” He wanted to yell at her, to make her snap out of it, but he had to keep his voice low. “Get … get that rope. Go on!” She disappeared from view for a moment, and returned with the rope. She was helpless, Wolff decided: he would have to tell her exactly what to do. “Now-get Smith’s briefcase and put something heavy in i[VI “Something heavy … but what?” “Jesus Christ … What have we got that’s heavy? What’s heavy? Urn … books, books are heavy, no, that might not be enough . . . I know, bottles. Full bottles–champagne bottles. Fill his briefcase with full bottles of champagne.” .,Why?” “My God, stop dithering, do what I tell you!” She went away again. Through the porthole he could see her coming down the ladder and into the living room. She was moving very slowly, like a sleepwalker. Hurry, you fat bitch, hurry! She looked around her dazedly. Still moving in slow motion, she picked up the briefcase from the floor. She took it to the kitchen area and opened the icebox. She looked in, as if she were deciding what to have for dinner. Come on. She took out a champagne bottle. She stood with the bottle in one hand and the briefcase in the other, and she frowned, as if she could not remember what she was supposed to be doing with them. At last her expression cleared and she put the bottle in the case, laying it flat. She took another bottle out. Wolff thought: Lay them head to toe, idiot, so you get more in. She put the second bottle in, looked at it, then took it out and turned it the other way. THE KEY TO REBECCA 243
Brilliant, Wolff thought. She managed to get four bottles in. She closed the icebox and looked around for something else to add to the weight. She picked up the sharpening steel and a glass paperweight. She put those into the briefcase and fastened it. Then she came up on deck. “What now?” she said. “Tie the end of the rope around the handle of the briefcase. ” She was coming out of her daze. Her fingers moved more quickly. “Tie it very tight,” Wolff said. 61 Okay.” “Is there anyone around?” She glanced to left and right. “No.” “Hurry. She finished the knot. “Throw me the rope,” Wolff said. She threw down the other end of the rope and he caught it. He was tiring with the effort of keeping himself afloat and holding on to the corpse at the same time. He had to let Smith go for a moment because he needed both hands for the rope, which meant he had to tread water furiously to stay up. He threaded the rope under the dead man’s armpits and pulled it through. He wound it around the torso twice, then tied a knot. Several times during the operation he found himself sinking, and once he took a revolting mouthful of bloody Water. At last the job was done. “Test your knot,” he told Sonja. “It’s tight.” “Throw the briefcase into the water-throw it as far out as you can.” She heaved the briefcase over the side. It splashed a couple of yards away from the houseboat-it bad been too heavy for her to throw far-and went down. Slowly the rope followed the case. The length of rope between Smith and the case became taut, then the body went under. Wolff watched the surface. The knots were holding. He kicked his legs, underwater where the body had gone down: they did not contact anything. The body had sunk deep. 244 Ken Follett
Wolff muttered: “Liebe Gott, what a shambles.” He climbed on deck. Looking back down, he saw that the pink tinge was rapidly disappearing from the water. A voice said: “Good morning!” Wolff and Sonja whirled around to face the towpath. “Good morningl” Sonja replied. She muttered to Wolff in an undertone: “A neighbor.” The neighbor was a half-caste woman of middle age, carrying a shopping basket. She said: “I heard a lot of splashing-is there anything wrong?” “Urn … no,” Sonja said. “My little dog fell in the water, and Mr. Robinson here had to rescue him.” “How gallant!” the woman said. “I didn’t know you had a dog.,, “He’s a puppy, a gift” “What kind?” Wolff wanted to scream: Go away, you stupid old wornanl “A poodle,” Sonja replied. “I’d love to see him.” “Tomorrow, perhaps-he’s been locked up as a punishment now.” “Poor thing.” Wolff said: “I’d better change my wet clothes.” Sonja said to the neighbor: “Until tomorrow.” “Lovely to meet you, Mr. Robinson,” the neighbor said. Wolff and Sonja went below. Sonja slumped on the couch and closed her eyes. Wolff stripped off his wet clothes. Sonja said: “It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. “You’ll survive,” Wolff said. “At least it was an Englishman.” “Yes. You should be jumping. for joy.” “I will when my stomach settles.” Wolff went into the bathroom and turned on the taps of the tub. When he came back Sonja said: “Was it worth it?” “Yes.” Wolff pointed to the military papers which were still on the floor, where he had dropped them when Smith surprised him. “That stuff is red-hot-the best he’s ever brought us. With that, Rommel can win the war.” “When will you send it?” THE KEY TO REBECCA 245