belly. He parted the curtains with his hands and inched his way through, Indian fashion. He heard Smith say: 'Oh, God, you're so beautiful.'
Wolff reached the shorts. With one hand he carefully turned the material over until he saw a pocket. He put his hand in the pocket and felt for a key.
The pocket was empty.
There was the sound of movement from the bed. Smith grunted. Sonja said:
'No, lie still.'
Wolff thought: Good girl.
He turned the shorts over until he found the other pocket. He felt in it.
That, too, was empty.
There might be more pockets. Wolff grew reckless. He felt the garment, searching for hard lumps that might be metal. There were none. He picked up the shorts-
A bunch of keys lay beneath them.
Wolff breathed a silent sigh of relief.
The keys must have slipped out of the pocket when Smith dropped the shorts on the floor.
Wolff picked up the keys and the shorts and began to inch backward through the curtains.
Then he heard footsteps on deck.
Smith said: 'Good God, what's that!' in a highpitched voice.
'Hush!' Sonja said. 'Only the postman. Tell me if you like this. ..'
'Oh, yes.'
Wolff made it through the curtains and looked up. The postman was placing a letter on the top step of the stairs, by the hatch. To Wolff's horror the postman saw him and called out: 'Sabah el-kheir-good morning!' Wolff put a finger to his lips for silence, then lay his cheek against his hand to mime sleep, then pointed to the bedroom.
'Your pardon!' the postman whispered.
Wolff waved him away.
There was no sound from the bedroom.
Had the postman's greeting made Smith suspicious? Probably not, Wolff decided: a postman might well call good morning even if he could see no one, for the fact that the hatch was open indicated that someone was at home.
The lovemaking noises in the next room resumed, and Wolff breathed more easily.
He sorted through the keys, found the smallest, and tried it in the locks of the case.
It worked.
He opened the other catch and lifted the lid. Inside was a sheaf of papers in a stiff cardboard folder. Wolff thought: No more menus, please. He opened the folder and looked at the top sheet.
He read:
OPERATION ABERDEEN
1. Allied forces Will mount a major counterattack at dawn on 5 June.
2. The attack will be two-pronged ...
Wolff looked up from the papers. 'My God,' he whispered. 'This is itl' He listened. The noises from the bedroom were louder now. He could hear the springs of the bed, and he thought the boat itself was beginning to rock slightly. There was not much time.
The report in Smith's possession was detailed. Wolff was not sure exactly how the British chain of command worked, but presumably the battles were planned in detail by General Ritchie at desert headquarters then sent to GHQ in Cairo for approval by Auchinleck. Plans for more important battles would be discussed at the morning conferences, which Smith obviously attended in some capacity. Wolff wondered again which department it was that was housed in the unmarked building in the Shari Suleiman Pasha to which Smith returned each afternoon; then he pushed the thought aside. He needed to make notes.
He hunted around for pencil and paper, thinking: I should have done this beforehand. He found a writing pad and a red pencil in a drawer. He sat down by the briefcase and read on.
The main Allied forces were besieged in an area they called the Cauldron. The June 5 counterattack was intended to be a breakout. It would begin at 0250 with the bombardment, by four regiments of artillery, of the Aslagh Ridge, on Rommel's eastern flank. The artillery was to soften up the opposition in readiness for the spearhead attack by the infantry of the 10 Indian Brigade. When the Indians had breached the line at Aslagh Ridge, the tanks of the 22 Armored Brigade would rush through the gap and capture Sidi Muftah while the 9 Indian Brigade followed through and consolidated.
Meanwhile the 32 Army Tank Brigade, with infantry support, would attack Rommel's northern flank at Sidra Ridge.
When he came to the end of the report Wolff realized he had been so absorbed that he had heard, but had not taken notice of, the sound of Major Smith reaching his climax. Now the bed creaked and a pair of feet hit the floor.
Wolff tensed.
