The Key to Rebecca

by Ken Follett

  Billy came in. "Hello," he said to Elene. "Did you bring me that book?"

  She did not know what he was talking about. "Book?" She stared at him, thinking that he was still very much a child, despite his grown-up ways. He wore gray flannel shorts and a white shirt, and there was no hair on the smooth skin of his bare forearm. He was carrying a school satchel and wearing a school tie.

  "You forgot," he said, and looked betrayed. "You were going to lend me a detective story by Simenon."

  "I did forget. I'm sorry."

  "Will you bring it next time you come?"

  "Of course."

  Wolff had been staring at Billy all this time, like a miser looking into his treasure chest. Now he stood up. "Hello, Billy," he said with a smile. "I'm Captain Alexander."

  Billy shook hands and said: "How do you do, sir."

  "Your father asked me to tell you that he's very busy indeed."

  "He always comes home for breakfast," Billy said.

  "Not today. He's pretty busy coping with old Rommel, you know."

  "Has he been in another fight?"

  Wolff hesitated. "Matter of fact he has, but he's okay. He got a bump on the head."

  Billy seemed more proud than worried, Elene observed.

  Gaafar came in and spoke to Wolff. "You are sure, sir, that the major said you were to take the boy to school?"

  He is suspicious, Elene thought.

  "Of course," Wolff said. "Is something wrong?"

  "No, but I am responsible for Billy, and we don't actually know you ..."

  "But you know Miss Fontana," Wolff said. "She was with me when Major Vandam spoke to me, weren't you, Elene?" Wolff stared at her and touched himself under the left arm, where the knife was sheathed.

  "Yes," Elene said miserably.

  Wolff said: "However, you're quite right to be cautious, Gaafar. Perhaps you should call GHQ and speak to the major yourself." He indicated the phone.

  Elene thought: No, don't Gaafar, he'll kill you before you finish dialing.

  Gaafar hesitated, then said: "I'm sure that won't be necessary, sir. As you say, we know Miss Fontana."

  Elene thought: It's all my fault.

  Gaafar went out.

  Wolff spoke to Elene in rapid Arabic. "Keep the boy quiet for a minute." He continued writing.

  Elene looked at Billy's satchel, and had the glimmer of an idea. "Show me your schoolbooks," she said.

  Billy looked at her as if she were crazy.

  "Come on," she said. The satchel was open, and an atlas stuck out. She reached for it. "What are you doing in geography?"

  "The Norwegian fjords."

  Elene saw Wolff finish writing and put the sheet of paper in an envelope. He licked the flap, sealed the envelope, and put it in his pocket:

  "Let's find Norway," Elene said. She flipped the pages of the atlas.

  Wolff picked up the telephone and dialed. He looked at Elene, then looked away, out of the window.

  Elene found the map of Egypt.

  Billy said: "But that's--"

  Quickly, Elene touched his lips with her finger. He stopped speaking and frowned at her.

  She thought: Please, little boy, be quiet and leave this to me.

  She said: "Scandinavia, yes, but Norway is in Scandinavia, look." She unwrapped the handkerchief from around her hand. Billy stared at the cut. With her fingernail Elene opened the cut and made it bleed again. Billy turned white. He seemed about to speak, so Elene touched his lips and shook her head with a pleading look.

  Elene was sure Wolff was going to Assyut. It was a likely guess, and Wolff had said he was afraid Vandam would correctly guess their destination. As she thought this, she heard Wolff say into the phone: "Hello? Give me the time of the train to Assyut."

  I was right! she thought. She dipped her finger in the blood from her hand. With three strokes, she drew an arrow in blood on the map of Egypt, with the point of the arrow on the town of Assyut, three hundred miles south of Cairo. She closed the atlas. She used her handkerchief to smear blood on the cover of the book, then pushed the book behind her.

  Wolff said: "Yes--and what time does it arrive?"

  Elene said: "But why are there fjords in Norway and not in Egypt?"

  Billy seemed dumbstruck. He was staring at her hand. She had to make him snap out of it before he gave her away. She said: "Listen, did you ever read an Agatha Christie story called 'The Clue of the Bloodstained Atlas'?"

  "No, there's no such--"

  "It's very clever, the way the detective is able to figure everything out on the basis of that one clue."

  He frowned at her, but instead of the frown of the utterly amazed, it was the frown of one who is working something out.

  Wolff put down the phone and stood up. "Let's go," he said. "You don't want to be late for school, Billy." He went to the door and opened it.

  Billy picked up his satchel and went out. Elene stood up, dreading that Wolff would spot the atlas.

  "Come on," he said impatiently.

  She went through the door and he followed her. Billy was on the porch already. There was a little pile of letters on a kidney-shaped table in the hall. Elene saw Wolff drop his envelope on top of the pile.

  They went out through the front door.

  Wolff asked Elene: "Can you drive?"

  "Yes," she answered, then cursed herself for thinking slowly--she should have said no.

  "You two get in the front," Wolff instructed. He got in the back.

  As she pulled away, Elene saw Wolff lean forward. He said: "See this?"

  She looked down. He was showing the knife to Billy.

  "Yes," Billy said in an unsteady voice.

  Wolff said: "If you make trouble, I'll cut your head off."

  Billy began to cry.

  25

  "STAND TO ATTENTION!" JAKES BARKED IN HIS SERGEANT MAJOR'S VOICE.

  Kemel stood to attention.

  The interrogation room was bare but for a table. Vandam followed Jakes in, carrying a chair in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. He sat down.

  Vandam said: "Where is Alex Wolff?"

  "I don't know," said Kernel, relaxing slightly.

  "Attention!" Jakes yelled. "Stand straight, boy!"

  Kemel came to attention again.

  Vandam sipped his tea. It was part of the act, a way of saying that he had all the time in the world and was not very concerned about anything, whereas the prisoner was in real trouble. It was the reverse of the truth.

  He said: "Last night you received a call from the officer on surveillance at houseboat Jihan."

  Jakes shouted: "Answer the major!"

  "Yes," Kemel said.

  "What did he say to you?"

  "He said that Major Vandam had come to the towpath and sent him to summon assistance."

  "Sir!" said Jakes. "To summon assistance, sir!"

  "To summon assistance, sir."

  Vandam said: "And what did you do?"

  "I went personally to the towpath to investigate, sir."

  "And then?"

  "I was struck on the head and knocked unconscious. When I recovered I was bound hand and foot. It took me several hours to free myself. Then I freed Major Vandam, whereupon he attacked me."

  Jakes went close to Kernel. "You're a bloody lying little bloody wog!" Kemel took a pace back. "Stand forward!" Jakes shouted. "You're a lying little wog, what are you?" Kernel said nothing.

  Vandam said: "Listen, Kernel. As things stand you're going to be shot for spying. If you tell us all you know, you could get off with a prison sentence. Be sensible. Now, you came to the towpath and knocked me out, didn't you?"

  "No, sir."

  Vandam sighed. Kernel had his story and he was sticking to it. Even if he knew, or could guess, where Wolff had gone, he would not reveal it while he was pretending innocence.

  Vandam said: "What is your wife's involvement in all this?"

  Kernel said nothing, but he looked scared.

  Vandam said: "
If you won't answer my questions, I'll have to ask her."

  Kemel's lips were pressed together in a hard line.

  Vandam stood up. "All right, Jakes," he said. "Bring in the wife on suspicion of spying."

  Kernel said: "Typical British justice."

  Vandam looked at him. "Where is Wolff?"

  "I don't know."

  Vandam went out. He waited outside the door for Jakes. When the captain came out, Vandam said: "He's a policeman, he knows the techniques. He'll break, but not today." And Vandam had to find Wolff today.

  Jakes asked: "Do you want me to arrest the wife?"

  "Not yet. Maybe later." And where was Elene?

  They walked a few yards to another cell. Vandam said: "Is everything ready here?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay." He opened the door and went in. This room was not so bare. Sonja sat on a hard chair, wearing a coarse gray prison dress. Beside her stood a woman army officer who would have scared Vandam, had he been her prisoner. She was short and stout, with a hard masculine face and short gray hair. There was a cot in one comer of the cell and a cold-water basin in the other.

  As Vandam walked in the woman officer said: "Stand up!"

  Vandam and Jakes sat down. Vandam said: "Sit down, Sonja."

  The woman officer pushed Sonja into the chair.

  Vandam studied Sonja for a minute. He had interrogated her once before, and she had been stronger than he. It would be different this time: Elene's safety was in the balance, and Vandam had few scruples left.

  He said: "Where is Alex Wolff?"

  "I don't know."

  "Where is Elene Fontana?"

  "I don't know."

  "Wolff is a German spy, and you have been helping him."

  "Ridiculous."

  "You're in trouble."

  She said nothing. Vandam watched her face. She was proud, confident, unafraid. Vandam wondered what, exactly, had happened on the houseboat this morning. Surely, Wolff had gone off without warning Sonja. Did she not feel betrayed?

  "Wolff betrayed you," Vandam said. "Kemel, the policeman, warned Wolff of the danger; but Wolff left you sleeping and went off with another woman. Are you going to protect him after that?"

  She said nothing.

  "Wolff kept his radio on your boat. He sent messages to Rommel at midnight. You knew this, so you were an accessory to espionage. You're going to be shot for spying."

  "All Cairo will riot! You wouldn't dare!"

  "You think so? What do we care if Cairo riots now? The Germans are at the gates--let them put down the rebellion."

  "You dare not touch me."

  "Where has Wolff gone?"

  "I don't know."

  "Can you guess?"

  "No."

  "You're not being helpful, Sonja. It will make things worse for you."

  "You can't touch me."

  "I think I'd better prove to you that I can." Vandam nodded to the woman officer.

  The woman held Sonja still while Jakes tied her to the chair. She struggled for a moment, but it was hopeless. She looked at Vandam, and for the first time there was a hint of fear in her eyes. She said: "What are you doing, you bastards?"

  The woman officer took a large pair of scissors from her bag. She lifted a hank of Sonja's long, thick hair and cut it off.

  "You can't do this!" Sonja shrieked.

  Swiftly, the woman cut Sonja's hair. As the heavy locks fell away the woman dropped them in Sonja's lap. Sonja screamed, cursing Vandam and Jakes and the British in language which Vandam had never heard from a woman.

  The woman officer took a smaller pair of scissors and cropped Sonja's hair close to the scalp.

  Sonja's screams subsided into tears. When he could be heard Vandam said: "You see, we don't care much about legality and justice anymore, nor do we care about Egyptian public opinion. We've got our backs to the wall. We may all be killed soon. We're desperate."

  The woman took soap and a shaving brush and lathered Sonja's head, then began to shave her scalp.

  Vandam said: "Wolff was getting information from someone at GHQ. Who?"

  "You're evil," said Sonja.

  Finally the woman officer took a mirror from her bag and held it in front of Sonja's face. At first Sonja would not look in the glass, but after a moment she gave in. She gasped when she saw the reflection of her totally bald head. "No," she said. "It's not me." She burst into tears.

  All the hatred was gone, now; she was completely_demoralized. Vandam said softly: "Where was Wolff getting his information?"

  "From Major Smith," Sonja replied.

  Vandam heaved a sigh of relief. She had broken: thank God.

  "First name?" he asked.

  "Sandy Smith."

  Vandam glanced at Jakes. That was the name of the major from MI6 who had disappeared--it was as they had feared.

  "How did he get the information?"

  "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 he had been privy to all strategic planning, for MI6 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 MI6 office, and telling his superiors at MI6 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.

  Vandam said to Sonja: "Tell me about Kemel."

  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 al-Qubbah."

  "The address?"

  "I don't know."

  Vandam said to the woman officer: "Go and find out the exact address of Captain Anwar el-Sadat."

  "Yes, sir." The woman's face broke into a smile that was astonish ingly pretty. She went out.

  Vandam said: "Wolff kept his radio on your houseboat."

  "Yes."

  "He used a code for his messages."

  "Yes, he had an English novel which he used 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 has 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 all her secrets. She was telling the truth.

  "I'll see you again," Vandam said, and went out.

  The woman officer handed him a slip of paper with Sadat's address on it, then went into the cell. Vandam 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." Vandam lit a cigarette. "I want you to raid Abdullah's place. I'm going to arrest this Sadat fellow. Send a small team to the Villa les Oliviers, just in case--I don't suppose they'll find anything. 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."

  Vandam looked around, and noticed for the first time that there were Egyptian policemen in the room. "Why have we got bloody Arabs on the team?" he said angrily.

  "Protocol, sir," Jakes replied formally. "Colonel Bogge's idea."

  Vandam bit back a retort. "After you've done Abdullah, meet me at the houseboat."

  "Yes, sir."

  Vandam stubbed his cigarette. "Let's go."

  They went out into the morning sunshine. A dozen or more jeeps were lined up, their engines idling. Jakes gave instructions to the sergeants in the raiding 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 Heliopolis. His home was an ordinary family house in a small garden. Four jeeps roared up outside, and the soldiers immediately surrounded the house and began to search the garden. Vandam rapped on the front door. A dog began to bark loudly. Vandam knocked again. The door was opened.

  "Captain Anwar el-Sadat?"

  "Yes."

  Sadat was a thin, serious young man of medium height. His curly brown hair was already 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.