would pay Abdullah for the information, and the story coui, be told to Abdullah’s credit at last. Damn. A wife brought a white European shirt. Wolff stood up and took off his torn and bloody shirt. The wife averted her eyes from his bare chest. Abdullah said: “He doesn’t need it yet. Give it to him in the morning.” Wolff took the shirt from the woman and put it on. Abdullah said: “Perhaps it would be undignified for you to sleep in the house of an Arab, my friend Achmed?” Wolff said: “Tbe British have a proverb: He who sups with the devil must use a long spoon.” Abdullah grinned, showing his steel tooth. He knew that Wolff had guessed his plan. “Almost an Arab,” he said. “Good-bye, my friends,” said Wolff. “Until the next time,” Abdullah replied. Wolff went out into the cold night, wondering where he could go now.
In the hospital a nurse froze half of Vandams face with a local anesthetic, then Dr. Abuthnot stitched up his cheek with her long, sensitive, clinical hands. She put on a protective dressing and secured it by a long strip of bandage tied around his head. “I must look like a toothache cartoon,” he said. She looked grave. She did not have a big sense of humor. She said: “You won’t be so chirpy when the anesthetic wears off. Your face is going to hurt badly. I’m going to give you a painkiller.” “No, thanks,” said Vandam. “Don’t be a tough guy, Major,” she said. “You’ll regret it.” He looked at her, in her white hospital coat and her sensible flat-heeled shoes, and wondered how he had ever found her even faintly desirable. She was pleasant enough, even Pretty, but she was also cold, superior and antiseptic. Not like- Not Me Elene. “A pain-killer will send me to sleep,” he told her. “And a jolly good thing, too,” she said. “If you sleep we can be sure the stitches will be undisturbed for a few hours.” THE KEY TO REBECCA 165
“I’d love to, but I have some important work that won7t wait.” “You cant work. You shouldn!t really walk around. You should talk as little as possible. Youre weak from loss of blood, and a wound like this is mentally as well as physically traumatic-in a few hours you7H feel the backl&sh, and you’ll be dizzy, nauseous, exhausted and confused.” ,,rU be worse if the Germans take Cairo,” he said. He stood up. Dr. Abuthnot looked cross. Vandam thought how well it suited her to be in a position to tell people what to do. She was not sure how to handle outright disobedience. “You’re a silly boy,” she said. “No doubt. Can I eat?” “No. Take glucose dissolved in warm water.” I might try it in warm gin, he thought. He shook her hand. It was cold and dry. Jakes was waiting outside the hospital with a car. “I knew they wouldift be able to keep you long, sir,” he said. “Shall I drive you home?’ “No.” Vandam’s watch had stopped. “Wbat’s the time?” “Five past two.” “I presume Wolff wasn’t dining alone.” “No, sir. His companion is under arrest at GHQ.” “Drive me there.” “If you’re sure.. to “Yes. The car pulled away. Vandam said- “Have you notified the hierarchy?” “About this evening’s events? No, sir.- “Good. Tomorrow will be soon enough.” Vandam did not say what they both knew: that the department, already under a cloud for letting Wolff gather intelligence, would be in utter disgrace for letting him slip through their fingers. Vandam, said: “I presume Wolffs dinner date was a woman.” “Very much so, if I may say so, sir. A real dish. Name of Sonja.” “The dancerr “No less.” They drove on in silence. Wolff was a cool customer, Van- 166 Ken Follett
dam thought, to go out with the most famous belly dancer fn Egypt in between stealing British military secrets. Well, he would not be so cool now. That was unfortunate in a way: having been warned by this incident that the British were on to him, he would be more careful from now on. Never scare them, just catch them. They arrived at GHQ and got out of the car. Vandam said: “What’s been done with her since she arrived?” “The no-treatment treatment,” Jakes said. “A bare cell, no food, no drink, no questions.” “Good.” It was a pity, all the same, that she had been given time to collect her thoughts. Vandam knew from prisoner-of-war interrogations that the best results were achieved immediately after the capture, when the prisoner was still frightened of being killed. Later on, when he had been herded here and there and given food and drink, he began to think of himself as a prisoner rather than as a soldier, and remembered that he had new rights and duties; and then he was better able to keep his mouth shut. Vandam should have interviewed Sonja immediately after the fight in the restaurant. As that was not possible, the next best thing was for her to be kept in isolation and given no information until he arrived. Jakes led the way along a corridor to the interview room. Vandam looked in through the judas. It was a square room, without windows but bright with electric light. There were a table, two upright chairs and an ashtray. To one side was a doorless cubicle with a toilet. Sonja sat on one of the chairs facing the door. Jakes was right, Vandam thought; she’s a dish. However she was by no means pretty. She was something of an Amazon, with her ripe, voluptuous body and strong, well-proportioned features. The young women in Egypt generally had a slender, leggy grace, like downy young deer: Sonja was more like … Van- dam frowned, then thought: a tigress. She wore a long gown of bright yellow which was garish to Vandam but would be quite d [a mode in the Cha-Cha Club. He watched her for a Minute or two. She was sitting quite still, not fidgeting, not darting nervous glances around the bare cell, not smoking or biting her nails. He thought: She will be a tough nut to crack. Then the expression on her handsome face changed, THE KEY TO REBECCA 167