by Ken Follett
"Yes, sir."
Vandam gave the phone to the gray-haired policeman and stood back. He could guess what Jakes was saying. The policeman unconsciously stood straighter and squared his shoulders as Jakes instructed him, in no uncertain terms, to do everything Vandam wanted and do it fast. "Yes, sir!" the policeman said, several times. Finally he said: "Please be assured, sir and gentleman, that we will do all in our power--" He stopped abruptly. Vandam guessed that Jakes had hung up. The policeman glanced at Vandam, then said, "Good-bye," to the empty wire.
Vandam went to the window and looked out. The young policeman was driving around and around the square on the motorcycle, hooting the horn and overrevving the engine. A small crowd had gathered to watch him, and a bunch of children were running behind the bike. The boy was grinning from ear to ear. He'll do, Vandam thought.
"Listen," he said. "I'm going to get on the Assyut train when it stops here in a few minutes. I'll get off at the next 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, then?"
"Doesn't it usually?"
"The Assyut train does not stop here usually."
"Then go to the station and tell them to stop it!"
"Yes, sir!" He went out at a run.
Vandam watched him cross the square. He could not hear 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. Assyut answered, and Vandam asked for Captain Newman. There was a long wait while they found him. At last he came on the line.
"This is Vandam. I think I'm on the trail of your knife man."
"Jolly good show, sir!" 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 hours. I need a taxi, a large galabiya and a small boy. Will you meet me?"
"Of course, no problem. Are you coming by road?"
"I'll meet you at the city limits, how's that?"
"Fine." Vandam heard a distant chuff-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. Okay?"
"Okay, okay!" He was delighted.
Vandam took out a pound note and tore it in half. The young policeman's eyes widened. Vandam gave him half the note. "You get the other half when you meet me."
"Okay!"
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. "Thank you. What's your name?"
"Sergeant Nesbah."
"I'll tell them about you in Cairo. Good-bye." Vandam hurried into the station. He ran south along the 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 foot plateman. Vandam 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 you." Vandam 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--"
Vandam bent to shout in the man's ear. "How many first-class coaches?"
The guard held up two fingers.
Vandam nodded and unbent. He looked at the door. Suddenly he was not sure that he had the nerve to go through with this. He thought that Wolff had never got a good look at him--they had fought in the dark, in the alley--but he could not be absolutely sure. The gash on his cheek might have given him away, but it was almost completely covered now by his beard; still he should try to keep that side of his face away from Wolff. Billy was the real problem. Vandam had to warn his son, somehow, to keep quiet and pretend not to recognize his father. There was no way to plan it, that was the trouble. He just had to go in there and think on his feet.
He took a deep breath and opened the door.
Stepping through, he glanced quickly and nervously at the first few seats and did not recognize anyone. He turned his back to the carriage as he closed the door, then turned around again. His gaze swept the rows of seats quickly: no Billy.
He spoke to the passengers nearest him. "Your papers, please, gentlemen."
"What's this, Major?" said an Egyptian Army officer, a colonel.
"Routine check, sir," Vandam replied.
He moved slowly along the aisle, checking people's papers. By the time he was halfway down the carriage he had studied the passengers well enough to be sure that Wolff, Elene and Billy were not here. He felt he had to finish the pantomime of checking papers before going on to the next coach. He began to wonder whether his guesswork might have gone wrong. Perhaps they weren't on the train at all; perhaps they weren't even heading for Assyut; perhaps the atlas clue had been a trick ...
He reached the end of the carriage and passed through the door into the space between the coaches. If Wolff is on the train, I'll see him now, he thought. If Billy is here--if Billy is here--
He opened the door.
He saw Billy immediately. He felt a pang of distress like a wound. The boy was asleep in his seat, his feet only just reaching the floor, his body slumped sideways, his hair falling over his forehead. His mouth was open, and his jaws were moving slightly: Vandam knew, for he had seen this before, that Billy was grinding his teeth in his sleep.
The woman who had her arm around him, and on whose bosom his head rested, was Elene. Vandam had a disorienting sense of deja vu: it reminded him of the night he had come upon Elene kissing Billy good night ...
Elene looked up.
She caught Vandam's eye. He saw her face begin to change expression: her eyes widening, her mouth coming open for a cry of surprise; and, because he was prepared for something like this, he was very quick to raise a finger to his lips in a hushing sign. She understood immediately, and dropped her eyes; but Wolff had caught her look, and he was turning his head to find out what she had seen.
They were on Vandam's left, and it was his left cheek which had been cut by Wolff's knife. Vandam turned around so that his back was to the carriage, then he spoke to the people on the side of the aisle opposite Wolff's. "Your papers, please."
He had not reckoned on Billy being aslee
p.
He had been ready to give the boy a quick sign, as he had done with Elene, and he had hoped that Billy was alert enough to mask his surprise rapidly, as Elene had done. But this was a different situation. If Billy were to wake up and see his father standing there, he would probably give the game away before he had time to collect his thoughts.
Vandam turned to Wolff and said: "Papers, please."
It was the first time he had seen his enemy face to face. Wolff was a handsome bastard. His big face had strong features: a wide forehead, a hooked nose, even white teeth, a broad jaw. Only around the eyes and the comers of the mouth was there a hint of weakness, of self-indulgence, of depravity. He handed over his papers then looked out of the window, bored. The papers identified him as Alex Wolff, of Villa les Oliviers, Garden City. The man had remarkable nerve.
Vandam said: "Where are you going, sir?"
"Assyut."
"On business?"
"To visit relations." The voice was strong and deep, and Vandam would not have noticed the accent if he had not been listening for it.
Vandam said: "Are you people together?"
"That's my son and his nanny," Wolff said.
Vandam took Elene's papers and glanced at them. He wanted to take Wolff by the throat and shake him until his bones rattled. That's my son and his nanny. You bastard.
He gave Elene her papers. "No need to wake the child," he said. He looked at the priest sitting next to Wolff, and took the proffered wallet.
Wolff said: "What's this about, Major?"
Vandam looked at him again, and noticed that he had a fresh scratch on his chin, a long one: perhaps Elene had put up some resistance. "Security, sir," Vandam replied.
The priest said: "I'm going to Assyut, too."
"I see," said Vandam. "To the convent?"
"Indeed. You've heard of it, then."
"The place where the Holy Family stayed after their sojourn in the desert."
"Quite. Have you been there?"
"Not yet--perhaps I'll make it this time."
"I hope so," said the priest.
Vandam handed back the papers. "Thank you." He backed away, along the aisle to the next row of seats, and continued to examine pa pers. When he looked up he met Wolff's eyes. Wolff was watching him expressionlessly. Vandam wondered whether he had done anything suspicious. Next time he looked up, Wolff was staring out of the window again.
What was Elene thinking? She must be wondering what I'm up to, Vandam thought. Perhaps she can guess my intentions. It must be hard for her all the same, to sit still and see me walk by without a word. At least now she knows she's not alone.
What was Wolff thinking? Perhaps he was impatient, or gloating, or frightened, or eager ... No, he was none of those, Vandam realized; he was bored.
He reached the end of the carriage and examined the last of the papers. He was handing them back, about to retrace his steps along the aisle, when he heard a cry that pierced his heart:
"THAT'S MY DAD!"
He looked up. Billy was running along the aisle, toward him, stumbling, swaying from side to side, bumping against the seats, his arms outstretched.
Oh, God.
Beyond Billy, Vandam could see Wolff and Elene standing up, watching; Wolff with intensity, Elene with fear. Vandam opened the door behind him, pretending to take no notice of Billy, and backed through it. Billy came flying through. Vandam slammed the door. He took Billy in his arms.
"It's all right," Vandam said. "It's all right."
Wolff would be coming to investigate.
"They took me away!" Billy said. "I missed geography and I was really really scared!"
"It's all right now." Vandam felt he could not leave Billy now; he would have to keep the boy and kill Wolff, he would have to abandon his deception plan and the radio and the key to the code ... No, it had to be done, it had to be done ... He fought down his instincts. "Listen," he said. "I'm here, and I'm watching over you, but I have to catch that man, and I don't want him to know who I am. He's the German spy I'm after, do you understand?"
"Yes, yes ..."
"Listen. Can you pretend you made a mistake? Can you pretend I'm not your father? Can you go back to him?"
Billy stared, openmouthed. He said nothing but his whole expression said No, no, no!
Vandam said: "This is a real-life tec story, Billy, and we're in it, you and I. You have to go back to that man, and pretend you made a mistake; but remember, I'll be nearby, and together we'll catch the spy. Is that okay? Is it okay?"
Billy said nothing.
The door opened and Wolff came through.
"What's all this?" Wolff said.
Vandam made his face bland and forced a smile. "He seems to have woken up from a dream and mistaken me for his father. We're the same build, you and I ... You did say you were his father, didn't you?"
Wolff looked at Billy. "What nonsense!" he said brusquely. "Come back to your seat at once."
Billy stood still.
Vandam put a hand on Billy's shoulder. "Come on, young man," he said. "Let's go and win the war."
The old catchphrase did the trick. Billy gave a brave grin. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I must have been dreaming."
Vandam felt as though his heart would break.
Billy turned away and went back inside the coach. Wolff went after him, and Vandam followed. As they walked along the aisle the train slowed down. Vandam realized they were already approaching the next station, where his motorcycle would be waiting. Billy reached his seat and sat down. Elene was staring at Vandam uncom prehendingly. Billy touched her arm and said: "It's okay, I made a mistake, I must have been dreaming." She looked at Billy, then at Vandam, and a strange light came into her eyes: she seemed on the point of tears.
Vandam did not want to walk past them. He wanted to sit down, to talk, to do anything to prolong the time he spent with them. Outside the train windows, another dusty little town appeared. Vandam yielded to temptation and paused at the carriage door. "Have a good trip," he said to Billy.
"Thank you, sir."
Vandam went out.
The train pulled into the station and stopped. Vandam got off and walked forward along the platform a little way. He stood in the shade of an awning and waited. Nobody else got off, but two or three people boarded the economy coaches. There was a whistle, and the train began to move. Vandam's eye was fixed on the window which he knew to be next to Billy's seat. As the window passed him, he saw Billy's face. Billy raised his hand in a little wave. Vandam waved back, and the face was gone.
Vandam realized he was trembling all over.
He watched the train recede into the hazy distance. When it was almost out of sight he left the station. There outside was his motorcycle, with the young policeman from the last town sitting astride it explaining its mysteries to a small crowd of admirers. Vandam gave him the other half of the pound note. The young man saluted.
Vandam climbed on the motorcycle and started it. He did not know how the policeman was going to get home, and he did not care. He drove out of town on the road south. The sun had passed its zenith, but the heat was still terrific.
Soon Vandam passed the train. He would reach Assyut thirty or forty minutes ahead of it, he calculated. Captain Newman would be there to meet him. Vandam knew in outline what he was going to do thereafter, but the details would have to be improvised as he went along.
He pulled ahead of the train which carried Billy and Elene, the only people he loved. He explained to himself again that he had done the right thing, the best thing for everyone, the best thing for Billy; but in the back of his mind a voice said: Cruel, cruel, cruel.
28
THE TRAIN ENTERED THE STATION AND STOPPED. ELENE SAW A SIGN WHICH SAID, in Arabic and English, ASSYUT. She realized with a shock that they had arrived.
It had been an enormous relief to see Vandam's kind, worried face on the train. For a while she had been euphoric: surely, she had felt, it was all over. She had watched his pa
ntomime with the papers, expecting him at any moment to pull a gun, reveal his identity, or attack Wolff. Gradually she had realized that it would not be that simple. She had been astonished, and rather horrified, at the icy nerve with which Vandam had sent his own son back to Wolff; and the courage of Billy himself had seemed incredible. Her spirits had plunged farther when she saw Vandam on the station platform, waving as the train pulled out. What game was he playing?
Of course, the Rebecca code was still on his mind. He must have some scheme to rescue her and Billy and also get the key to the code. She wished she knew how. Fortunately Billy did not seem to be troubled by such thoughts: his father had the situation under control, and apparently the boy did not even entertain the idea that his father's schemes could fail. He had perked up, taking an interest in the countryside through which the train was passing, and had even asked Wolff where he got his knife. Elene wished she had as much faith in William Vandam.
Wolff was also in good spirits. The incident with Billy had scared him, and he had looked at Vandam with hostility and anxiety; but he seemed reassured when Vandam got off the train. After that his mood had oscillated between boredom and nervous excitement, and now, arriving in Assyut, the excitement became dominant. Some kind of change had occurred in Wolff in the last twenty-four hours, she thought. When she first met him he had been a very poised, suave man. His face had rarely shown any spontaneous emotion other than a faint arrogance, his features had been generally rather still, his movements had been almost languid. Now all that had gone. He fidgeted, he looked about him restlessly, and every few seconds the corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, as if he were about to grin, or perhaps to grimace, at his thoughts. The poise which had once seemed to be part of his deepest nature now turned out to be a cracked facade. She guessed this was because his fight with Vandam had become vicious. What had begun as a deadly game had turned into a deadly battle. It was curious that Wolff, the ruthless one, was getting desperate while Vandam just got cooler.
Elene thought: Just so long as he doesn't get too damn cool.
Wolff stood up and took his case from the luggage rack. Elene and Billy followed him from the train and onto the platform. This town was bigger and busier than the others they had passed through, and the station was crowded. As they stepped down from the train they were jostled by people trying to get on. Wolff, a head higher than most of the people, looked around for the exit, spotted it, and began to carve a path through the throng. Suddenly a dirty boy in bare feet and green striped pajamas snatched Wolff's case, shouting: "I get taxi! I get taxi!" Wolff would not let go of the case, but neither would the boy. Wolff gave a good-humored shrug, touched with embarrassment, and let the boy pull him to the gate.
