Sonja said: 'Postman!'
Wolff knelt in front of Smith and drew his knife. 'Open your mouth.' Smith began to say something, and Wolff slid the knife between Smith's teeth.
Wolff said: 'Now, if you move or speak, IT cut out your tongue.'
Smith sat dead still, staring at Wolff with a horrified look.
Wolff realized that Sonja was stark naked. 'Put something on, quickly!' She pulled a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around her as she went to the foot of the ladder. The hatch was opening. Wolff knew that he and Smith could be seen from the hatch. Sonja let the sheet slide down a little as she reached up to take the letter from the postman's outstretched hand.
'Good morning!' the postman said. His eyes were riveted on Sonja's half-exposed breasts.
She went farther up the ladder toward him, so that he had to back away, and lot the sheet slip even more. 'Thank you,' she simpered. She reached for the hatch and pulled it shut.
Wolff breathed again.
The postman's footsteps crossed the deck and descended the gangplank.
Wolff said to Sonja: 'Give me that sheet.'
She unwrapped herself and stood naked again.
Wolff withdrew the knife from Smith's mouth and used it to cut off a foot or two of the sheet. He crumpled the cotton into a ball and stuffed it into Smith's mouth. Smith did not resist. Wolff slid the knife into its underarm sheath. He stood up. Smith closed his eyes. He seemed limp, defeated.
Sonja picked up the sharpening steel and stood ready to hit Smith while Wolff went up the ladder and on to the deck. The locker Sonja had mentioned was in the riser of a step in the prow. Wolff opened it. Inside was a coil of slender rope it had perhaps been used to tie up the vessel in the days before she became a houseboat. Wolff took the rope out. It was strong, but not too thick: ideal for tying someone's hands and feet. He heard Sonja's voice, from below, raised in a shout. There was a clatter of feet on the ladder.
Wolff dropped the rope and whirled around.
Smith, wearing only his underpants, came up through the hatch at a run. He had not been as defeated as he looked-and Sonja must have missed him with the steel.
Wolff dashed across the deck to the gangplank to head him off. Smith turned, ran to the other side of the boat, and jumped into the water.
Wolff said: 'Shit!'
He looked all around quickly. There was no one on the decks of the other houseboats-it was the hour of the siesta. The towpath was deserted except for the 'beggar'-Kemel would have to deal with him-and one man in the distance walking away on the river there were a couple of feluccas, at least P quarter of a mile away, and a slow- moving steam barge beyond them.
Wolff ran to the edge. Smith surfaced, gasping for air. He wiped his eyes and looked around to get his bearings. He was clumsy in the water, splashing a lot. He began to swim, inexpertly. away from the houseboat. Wolff stepped back several paces and took a running jump into the river.
He landed, feet first, on Smith's bead.
For several seconds all was confusion. Wolff went underwater in a tangle of arms and legs-his and Smith's- and struggled to reach the surface and push Smith down at the same time. When he could hold his breath no longer he wriggled away from Smith and came up.
He sucked air and wiped his eyes. Smith's head bobbed up in front of him, coughing and spluttering. Wolff reached forward with both hands, grabbed Smith's bead, and pulled it toward himself and down. Smith wriggled like a fish. Wolff got him around the neck and pushed down. Wolff himself Went under the water, then came up again a moment later. Smith was still under, still struggling.
Wolff thought: How long does it take a man to drown?
Smith gave a convulsive jerk and freed himself. His bead came up and he heaved a great lungful of air. Wolff tried to punch him. The blow landed, but it had no force. Smith was coughing and retching between shuddering gasps. Wolff himself had taken in water. Wolff reached for Smith again. This time he got behind the major and crooked one arm around the man's throat while he used the other to push down on the top of his head. He thought: Christ, I hope no one is watching.
Smith went under. He was facedown in the water now, with Wolff's knees in his back, and his head held in a firm grip. He continued to thrash around under water, turning, jerking, flailing his arms, kicking his legs and trying to twist his body.
Wolff tightened his grip and held him under.
Drown, you bastard, drown.
He felt Smith's jaws open and knew the man was at last breathing water. The convulsions grew more frantic. Wolff felt he was going to have to let go. Smith's struggle pulled Wolff under. Wolff squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. It seemed Smith was weakening. By now his lungs must be half full of water, Wolff thought. After a few seconds Wolff himself began to need air.
Smith's movements became feeble. Holding the major less tightly, Wolff kicked himself upward and found air. For a minute he just breathed. Smith became a dead weight. Wolff used his legs to swim toward the houseboat, pulling Smith with him. Smith's head came up out of the water, but there was no sign of life.
Wolff reached the side of the boat Sonja was up on deck, wearing a robe, staring over the side.
Wolff said: 'Did anybody see?'
'I don't think so. Is he dead?'
'Yes.'
