sometimes heard Hitler’s politics warmly endorsed in the officers’ mess: they disliked him, not because he was a Fascist, but because he had been a corporal in the Army and a house painter in civilian life. There were brutes everywhere, and sometimes they got into power, and then you had to fight them. It was a more rational philosophy than Sonja’s, but it just was not inspirational. The anesthetic in his face was wearing off. He could feel a sharp, clear line of pain across his cheek, like a new burn. He realized he also had a headache. He hoped Jakes would be a long time arranging Sonja’s release, so that he could sit on the bench a little while longer. He thought of Billy. He did not want the boy to miss him at breakfast. Perhaps I’ll stay awake until morning, then take him to school, then go home and sleep, he thought. What would Billy’s life be like under the Nazis? They would teach him to despise the Arabs. His present teachers were no great admirers of African culture, but at least Vandam could do a little to make his son realize that people who were different were not necessarily stupid. What would happen in the Nazi classroom when he put up his hand and said: “Please, sir, my dad says a dumb Englishman is no smarter than a dumb Arab”? He thought of Elene. Now she was a kept woman, but at least she could choose her lovers, and if she didn’t like what they wanted to do in bed she could kick them out. In the brothel of a concentration camp she would have no such choice … He shuddered. Yes. We’re not very admirable, especially in our colonies, but the Nazis are worse, whether the Egyptians know it or not. It is worth fighting. In England decency is making slow progress; in Germany it’s taking a big step backward. Think about the people you love, and the issues become clearer. Draw strength from that. Stay awake a little longer. Stand UP. He stood up. Jakes came back. Vandarn said: “She’s an Anglophobe.” “I beg your pardon, sir?” THE KEY TO REBECCA 171
“Sonia. She hates the British. I don’t believe Wolff was a casual pickup. Let’s go.” They walked out of the building together. Outside it was still dark. Jakes said: “Sir, you’re very tired-” “Yes. I’m very tired. But I’m still thinking straight, Jakes. Take me to the main police station.” .,Sir.” They pulled away. Vandam handed his cigarette case and lighter to Jakes, who drove one-handed while he ]it Vandam’s cigarette. Vandam had trouble sucking: he could hold the cigarette between his lips and breathe the smoke, but he could not draw on it hard enough to light it. Jakes handed him the lit cigarette. Vandam. thought: I’d Ue a martini to go with it. Jakes stopped the car outside police headquarters. Vandam said: “We want the chief of detectives, whatever they call him.” “I shouldn’t think he’ll be there at this hour—~* “No. Get his address. Well wake him up.” Jakes went into the building. Vandam stared ahead through the windshield. Dawn was on its way. The stars had winked out, and now the sky was gray rather than black. There were a few people about. He saw a man leading two donkeys loaded with vegetables, presumably going to market. The muezzins had not yet called the first prayer of the day. Jakes came back. “Gezira,” he said as he put the car in gear and let in the clutch. Vandam thought about Jakes. Someone had told Vandam that Jakes had a terrific sense of humor. Vandam had always found him pleasant and cheerful, but he had never seen any evidence of actual humor. Am I such a tyrant, Vandam thought, that my staff are terrified of cracking a joke in my presence? Nobody makes me laugh, he thought. Except Elene. “You never tell me jokes, Jakes.” “Sir?” “They say you have a terrific sense of humor, but you never tell me jokes.11 “No, sir.” “Would you care to be candid for a moment and tell me why?” 172 Ken Follett
There was a pause, then Jakes said: “You don’t invite familiarity, sir.” Vandam nodded. How would they know how much he liked to throw back his head and roar with laughter? He said: “Very tactfully put, Jakes. The subject is closed.” The Wolff business is getting to me, he thought. I wonder whether perhaps I’ve never really been any good at my job, and then I wonder if I’m any good for anything at all. And my face hurts. They crossed the bridge to the island. The sky turned from slate-gray to pearl. Jakes said: “I’d like to say, sir, that, if you’ll pardon me, you’re far and away the best superior officer I’ve ever had.” “Oh.” Vandam was quite taken aback. “Good Lord. Well, thank you, Jakes. Thank you.” “Not at all, sir. We’re there.” He stopped the car outside a small, pretty single-story house with a well-watered garden. Vandam. guessed that the chief of detectives was doing well enough out of his bribes, but not too well. A cautious man, perhaps: it was a good sign. They walked up the path and hammered on the door. After a couple of minutes a head looked out of a window and spoke in Arabic. Jakes put on his sergeant majoes voice. “Military Intelligence–open up the bloody door!” A minute later a small, handsome Arab opened up, still belting his trousers. He said in English: “What’s going on?” Vandarn took charge. “An emergency. Let us in, will you?” “Of course.” The detective stood aside and they entered. He led them into a small living room. “What has happened?” He seemed frightened, and Vandam. thought: Who wouldn’t be? The knock on the door in the middle of the night … Vandam. said: “There’s nothing to panic about, but we want you to set up a surveillance, and we need it right away.,, “Of course. Please sit down.” The detective found a notebook and pencil. “Who is the subject?” “Sonja el-Ararn.” “The dancer?” THE KEY TO REBECCA 173