station. I want your boy to drive my bike to the next station and meet me there. Do you understand?” “Yes, sir,” said the man. “The train will stop here, thenr’ “Doesn’t it usually?” “The Assyut train does not stop here usually.” “Then go to the station and tell them to stop itl” “Yes, sirl” He went out at a run. Vandam watched him cross the square. He could not bear the train yet. He had time for one more phone call. He picked up the receiver, waited for the operator, then asked for the army base in Assyut. It would be a miracle if the phone system worked properly twice in a row. It did. Assynt answered, and Vandam asked for Captain Newman. There was a long wait while they found him. At last he came on the line. “T’his is Vandam. I think rm on the trail of your knife man.” “Jolly good show, sirl” said Newman. “Anything I can do?” “Well, now, listen. We have to go very softly. For all sorts of reasons which I’ll explain to you later, I’m working entirely on my own, and to go after Wolff with a big squad of armed men would be worse than useless.” “Understood. What do you need from me?” “I’ll be arriving in Assyut in a couple of houm I need a taxi, a large galabiya and a small boy. Will you meet me?” “Of course, no problem. Are you cDming by road?” “I’ll meet you at the city limits, how’s thatT’ “Fine.” Vandam heard a distant chaff-chuff-chuff. “I have to go. “I’ll be waiting for you.” Vandam. hung up. He put a five-pound note on the table beside the telephone: a little baksheesh never hurt. He went out into the square. Away to the north he could see the approaching smoke of the train. The younger policeman drove up to him on the bike. Vandam said: “I’m getting on the train. You drive the motorcycle to the next station and meet me there. Okayr’ “Okay, okayl” He was delighted. Vandam took out a pound note and tore it in half. The TIRE KEY TO REBECCA 317
young policeman’s eyes widened. Vandam gave him half the, note. “You get the other half when you meet me.” Okayl., The train was almost in the station. Vandam ran across the square. The older policeman met him. “The stationmaster is stopping the train.” Vandam shook his hand. “nank you. What’s your namer, “Sergeant Nesbah.” “I’ll tell them about you in Cairo. Goodbye.” Vandam hurried into the station. He ran south along the7 platform, away from the train, so that he could board it at the front end without any of the passengers seeing him through the windows. The train came in, billowing smoke. The stationmaster came along the platform to where Vandam was standing. When the train stopped the stationmaster spoke to the engine driver and the footplateman. Vandarn gave all three of them baksheesh and boarded the train. He found himself in an economy carriage. Wolff would surely travel first class. He began to walk along the train, picking his way over the people sitting on the floor with their boxes and crates and animals He noticed that it was mainly women and children on the floor: the slatted wooden seats were occupied by the men with their’ bottles of beer and their cigarettes. The carriages were unbearably hot and smelly. Some of the women were cooking on makeshift stoves: surely that was dangerous! Vandam almost trod on a tiny baby crawling on the filthy floor. He had a feeling that if he had not avoided the child in the nick of time they would have lynched him. He passed through three economy carriages, then he was at the door to a first-class coach He found a guard just outside, sitting on a little wooden stool drinking tea from a glass. The guard stood up. “Some tea, General?” “No, thank vou.” Vandarn had to shout to make himself heard over the noise of the wheels beneath them. “I have to check the papers of all first-class passengers.” “All in order, all very good,” said the guard, trying to be helpful. “How many first-class carriages are there?” “All in order-” 318 Ken Follett