“Sandy came to the houseboat in his lunch break to visit me. While we were in bed Alex went through his briefcase.” As simple as that, Vandam. thought. Jesus, I feel tired. Smith was liaison man between the Secret Intelligence Service-also known as M16–and GHQ, and in that role be had been privy to all strategic planning, for M16 needed to know what the Army was doing so that it could tell its spies what information to look for. Smith had been going straight from the morning conferences at GHQ to the houseboat, with a briefcase full of secrets. Vandam had already learned that Smith had been telling people at GHQ he was lunching at the M16 office, and telling his superiors at M16 he was lunching at GHQ, so that nobody would know he was screwing a dancer. Vandam had previously assumed Wolff was bribing or blackmailing someone: it had never occurred to him that Wolff might be getting information from someone without that someone’s knowledge. Vandam said: “Where is Smith now?” “He caught Alex going through his briefcase. Alex killed him.” “Where’s the body?” “In the river by the houseboat.” Vandam nodded to Jakes, and Jakes went out. Vandarn said to Sonja: “Tell me about Kernel.” She was in full flood now, eager to tell all she knew, her resistance quite crushed; she would do anything to make people be nice to her. “He came and told me you had asked him to have the houseboat watched. He said he would censor his surveillance reports if I would arrange a meeting between Alex and Sadat.” “Alex and whom?” “Anwar el-Sadat. He’s a captain in the Army.” “Why did he want to meet Wolff?” “So the Free Officers could send a message to Rommel.” Vandam thought: there are elements to this that I never thought of. He said: “Where does Sadat live?” “Kubri a]-Qubbah.” “The address?” “I don’t know.” Vandarn said to the woman officer: “Go and find out the exact address of Captain Anwar el-Sadat.” 294 Ken Follett
“Yes, sir.” The woman’s face broke into a smile that was astonishingly pretty. She went out. Vandarr, said: “Wolff kept his radio on your houseboat” “Yes.” “Pe used a code for his messages.” .,Yes. he had ar English novel which he used to use to make up the code words.” :’Rebecca.” ‘Yes.,, “And he had a key to the code.” :’A key?” ‘A piece of paper telling him which pages of the book to use. She nodded slowly. “Yes, I think he did.” “The radio, the book and the key have gone. Do you know where?” “No,” she said. She got scared. “Honestly, no, I don’t ,know, I’m telling the truth-” “It’s all right, I believe you. Do you know where Wolff might have gone?” “He ba.,: a house. . . Villa les Oliviers.” “Good idea. Any other suggestions?” “Abdullah. He might have gone to Abdullah.” :’Yes. Any more?” ‘His cousins, in the desert.” :’And where would they be found?” ‘No one knows. They’re nomads.” :’Might WolfF know their movements?” ‘I suppose he might.” Vandam sat looking at her for a little while longer. She was no actress: she could not have faked this. She was totally broken down, not only willing but eager to betray her friends and tell 0 her secrets. She was telling the truth. “I’ll see you again,” Vandarn said, and went out. The woman officer handed him a slip of paper with Sadaes address on it, then went into the cell. Vandarn hurried to the muster room. Jakes was waiting. “The Navy is lending us a couple of divers,” Jakes said. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.” “Good.” Vandarn lit a cigarette. “I want you to raid Abdullah’s place. I’m going to arrest this Sadat fellow. Send a THE KEY TO REBECCA 295
small team to the Villa les Oliviers, just in case-I don’t suppose tbeyT find anythinp Has everyone been briefed?” Jakes nodded, “They know we’re looking for a wireless transmitter, a copy of Rebecca, and a set of coding instructions.” Vandarr, looked around, and noticed for the first time that there were Egyptiar policerner in the room. “VAy have we got bloody Arabs on the team?” he said angrily. “Proto~ol, sir,” Jakes replied formally. “Colonel Bogge’s idea.” Vandarr. bit back a retort. “After you’ve done Abdullah, meet me at the houseboat.” “Yes. sin” Vandam stubbed his cigarette. “Let’s go.” They went out into the morning sunshine. A dozen or more ieeps were lined up, their engine- idling Jakes gave instructiom to the sergeant7: in the raidinr~ parties, then nodded to Vandam. The men boarded the jeeps, and the teams pulled out. Sadat lived in a suburb three miles out of Cairo in the direction of Helionolis. His home was an ordinsrv family house ir, 9. small garder Four jeeps roared up outside, and the soldier~ immediately surrounded the house and began to search the garden Vandam rapped on the front door. A dog began to bark loudly. Vandarn knocked again. The door was opened. “Captain Anwar el-Sadatr’ to “Yes. Sadat was a thin, serious young man of medium height. His curly brown hair was alreadv receding. He wore his captain’s uniform and fez, as if he was about to go out. “You’re under arrest,” Vandam said, and pushed past him into the house Another young man appeared in a doorway. “Who is he?” Vandam demanded. “My brother, Tal’at,” said Sadat. Vandam looked at Sadat. The Arab was calm and dignified, but he was biding some tension. He’s afraid, Vandarn thought; but he’s not afraid of me, and he’s not afraid of going to prison; he’s afraid of something else. What kind of deal had Kernel done with Wolff this morn- 296 Ken Follett