'The no-treatment treatment,' Jakes said. 'A bare cell, no food, no drink, no questions.'
'Good.' It was a pity, all the same, that she had been given time to collect her thoughts. Vandam knew from prisoner-of-war interrogations that the best results were achieved immediately after the capture, when the prisoner was still frightened of being killed. Later on, when he had been herded here and there and given food and drink, he began to think of himself as a prisoner rather than as a soldier, and remembered that he had new rights and duties; and then he was better able to keep his mouth shut. Vandam should have interviewed Sonja immediately after the fight in the restaurant. As that was not possible, the next best thing was for her to be kept in isolation and given no information until he arrived.
Jakes led the way along a corridor to the interview room. Vandam looked in through the judas. It was a square room, without windows but bright with electric light. There were a table, two upright chairs and an ashtray. To one side was a doorless cubicle with a toilet.
Sonja sat on one of the chairs facing the door. Jakes was right, Vandam thought; she's a dish. However she was by no means pretty. She was something of an Amazon, with her ripe, voluptuous body and strong, well- proportioned features. The young women in Egypt generally had a slender, leggy grace, like downy young deer: Sonja was more like ... Vandam frowned, then thought: a tigress. She wore a long gown of bright yellow which was garish to Vandam but would be quite de la mode in the Cha-Cha Club. He watched her for a Minute or two. She was sitting quite still, not fidgeting, not darting nervous glances around the bare cell, not smoking or biting her nails. He thought: She will be a tough nut to crack. Then the expression on her handsome face changed, and she stood up and began pacing up and down, and Vandam thought: Not so tough.
He opened the door and went in.
He sat down at the table without speaking, 'This left her standing, which was a psychological disadvantage for a woman: Score the first point to me, he thought. He heard Jakes come in behind him and close the door. He looked up at Sonja. 'Sit down.'
She stood gazing at him, and a slow smile spread across her face. She pointed at his bandages. 'Did he do that to you?' she said. Score the second point to her.
'Sit down.'
'Thank you.' She sat.
'Who is 'he'?'
'Alex Wolff, the man you tried to beat up tonight.'
'And who is Alex Wolff?'
'A wealthy patron of the Cha-Cha Club.'
'How long have you known him?'
She looked at her watch. 'Five hours.'
'What is your relationship with him?'
She shrugged. 'He was a date.'
'How did you meet?'
'The usual way. After my act, a waiter brought a message inviting me to sit at Mr. Wolff's table.'
'Which one?'
'Which table?'
'Which waiter.'
'I don't remember.'
'Go on.'
'Mr. Wolff gave me a glass of champagne and asked me to have dinner with him. I accepted, we went to the restaurant, and you know the rest.'
'Do you usually sit with members of the audience after your act?'
'Yes, it's a custom.'
'Do you usually go to dinner with them?'
'Occasionally.'
'Why did you accept this time?'
'Mr. Wolff seemed like an unusual sort of man.' She looked at Vandam's bandage again, and grinned. 'He was an unusual sort of man.'
'What is your full name?'
'Sonia el-Aram.'
'Address?'
'Rhan, Zamalek. It's a houseboat'
'Age?'
'How discourteous.'
'Age?'
'I refuse to answer.'
