The Key to Rebecca - Ken Follett [126]
Kernel added: “We could send your message for you ...”
“Not necessary,” Wolff said. He seemed to have reached a decision. “I have another radio.”
“It’s agreed, then.”
“There’s the radio.” Wolff pointed to the open case, still on the floor where Elene had left it. “It’s already tuned to the correct wavelength. All you have to do is broadcast at midnight, any night.”
Kemel went over to the radio and examined it. Elene wondered why Wolff had said nothing about the Rebecca code. Wolff did not care whether Kernel got through to Rommel or not, she decided; and to give him the code would be to risk that he might give it to someone else. Wolff was playing safe again.
Wolff said: “Where does Vandam live?”
Kemel told him the address.
Elene thought: Now what is he after?
Wolff said: “He’s married, I suppose.”
“No.”
“A bachelor. Damn.”
“Not a bachelor,” Kemel said, still looking at the wireless transmitter. “A widower. His wife was killed in Crete last year.”
“Any children?”
“Yes,” Kemel said. “A small boy called Billy, so I’m told. Why?”
Wolff shrugged. “I’m interested, a little obsessed, with the man who’s come so close to catching me.”
Elene was sure he was lying.
Kemel closed the suitcase, apparently satisfied. Wolff said to him: “Keep an eye on her for a minute, would you?”
“Of course.”
Wolff turned away, then turned back. He had noticed that Elene still had Rebecca in her hand. He reached down and took it from her. He disappeared through the curtains.
Elene thought: If I tell Kemel about the code, then maybe Kemel will make Wolff give it to him, and maybe then Vandam will get it from Wolff—but what will happen to me?
Kemel said to her: “What—” He stopped abruptly as Wolff came back, carrying his clothes, and began to dress.
Kemel said to him: “Do you have a call sign?”
“Sphinx,” Wolff said shortly.
“A code?”
“No code.”
“What was in that book?”
Wolff looked angry. “A code,” he said. “But you can’t have it.”
“We need it.”
“I can’t give it to you,” Wolff said. “You’ll have to take your chance, and broadcast in clear.”
Kemel nodded.
Suddenly Wolff’s knife was in his hand. “Don’t argue,” he said. “I know you’ve got a gun in your pocket. Remember, if you shoot, you’ll have to explain the bullet to the British. You’d better go now.”
Kemel turned, without speaking, and went up the ladder and through the hatch. Elene heard his footsteps above. Wolff went to the porthole and watched him walk away along the towpath.
Wolff put his knife away and buttoned his shirt over the sheath. He put on his shoes and laced them tightly. He got the book from the next room, extracted from it the sheet of paper bearing the key to the code, crumpled the paper, dropped it into a large glass ashtray, took a box of matches from a kitchen drawer and set fire to the paper.
He must have another key with the other radio, Elene thought.
Wolff watched the flames to make sure the paper was entirely burned. He looked at the book, as if contemplating burning that too, then he opened a porthole and dropped it into the river.
He took a small suitcase from a cupboard and began to pack a few things into it.
“Where are you going?” Elene said.
“You’ll find out—you’re coming.”
“Oh, no.” What would he do with her? He had caught her deceiving him—had he dreamed up some appropriate punishment? She felt very weary and afraid. Nothing she had done had turned out well. At one time she had been afraid merely that she would have to have sex with him. How much more there was to fear now. She thought of trying again to run away—she had almost made it last time—but she no longer had the spirit.
Wolff continued packing his case. Elene saw some of her own clothes on the floor, and remembered that she had not dressed properly. There were her panties, her stockings and her brassiere. She decided to put them on. She stood up and pulled her dress over her head. She bent down to pick up her underwear. As she stood up Wolff embraced her. He pressed a rough kiss against her lips, not seeming to care that she was completely unresponsive. He reached