The Key to Rebecca - Ken Follett [117]
Shut up.
He decided to risk a cigarette. He moved behind the hump to light it, then cupped it in his hand, army fashion, to hide the glow as he returned to his vantage point.
Five cigarettes later the car doors opened.
The cloud had cleared and the moon was out. The whole landscape was dark blue and silver, the complex shadow work of the pyramids rising, out of shining sand. Two dark figures got out of the car and walked toward the nearest of the ancient tombs. Vandam could see that Elene walked with her arms folded across her chest, as if she were cold, or perhaps because she did not want to hold Wolff’s hand. Wolff put an arm lightly across her shoulders, and she made no move to resist him.
They stopped at the base of the monument and talked. Wolff pointed upward, and Elene seemed to shake her head: Vandam guessed she did not want to climb. They walked around the base and disappeared behind the pyramid.
Vandam waited for them to emerge on the other side. They seemed to take a very long time. What were they doing behind there? The urge to go and see was almost irresistible.
He could get to the car now. He toyed with the idea of sabotaging it, rushing back to the city, and returning with his team. But Wolff would not be here when Vandam got back; it would be impossible to search the desert at night; by the morning Wolff might be miles away.
It was almost unbearable to watch and wait and do nothing, but Vandam knew it was the best course.
At last Wolff and Elene came back into view. He still had his arm around her. They returned to the car, and stood beside the door. Wolff put his hands on Elene’s shoulders, said something, and leaned forward to kiss her.
Vandam stood up.
Elene gave Wolff her cheek, then turned away, slipping out of his grasp, and got into the car.
Vandam lay down on the sand again.
The desert silence was broken by the roar of Wolff’s car. Vandam watched it turn in a wide circle and take the road. The headlights came on, and Vandam ducked his head involuntarily, although he was well concealed. The car passed him, heading toward Cairo.
Vandam jumped up, wheeled his cycle onto the road and kicked the starter. The engine would not turn over. Vandam cursed: he was terrified he might have gotten sand in the carburetor. He tried again, and this time it fired. He got on and followed the car.
The moonlight made it easier for him to spot the holes and bumps in the road surface, but it also made him more visible. He stayed well behind Wolff’s car, knowing there was nowhere to go but Cairo. He wondered what Wolff planned next. Would he take Elene home? If so, where would he go afterward? He might lead Vandam to his base.
Vandam thought: I wish I had that gun.
Would Wolff take Elene to his home? The man had to be staying somewhere, had to have a bed in a room in a building in the city. Vandam was sure Wolff was planning to seduce Elene. Wolff had been rather patient and gentlemanly with her, but Vandam knew that in reality he was a man who liked to get his way quickly. Seduction might be the least of the dangers Elene faced. Vandam thought: What wouldn’t I give for a phone!
They reached the outskirts of the city, and Vandam was obliged to pull up closer to the car, but fortunately there was plenty of traffic about. He contemplated stopping and giving a message to a policeman, or an officer, but Wolff was driving fast, and anyway, what would the message say? Vandam still did not know where Wolff was going.
He began to suspect the answer when they crossed the bridge to Zamalek. This was where the dancer, Sonja, had her houseboat. It was surely not possible that Wolff was living there, Vandam thought, for the place had been under surveillance for days. But perhaps he was reluctant to take Elene to his real home, and so was borrowing the houseboat.
Wolff parked in a street and got out. Vandam stood his motorcycle against a wall and hurriedly chained the wheel to prevent theft—he might need the bike again tonight.
He followed Wolff and Elene from the street to the towpath.