eyes, widened. 'You've got a gun?'
'I haven't got it now. Jakes is bringing it to the restaurant. Anyway, there will be two other men in the restaurant, and six more outside on the pavement, trying to look inconspicuous. There will also be civilian cars ready to block all exits from the street at the sound of a whistle. No matter what Wolff does tonight, if he wants to see you he's going to be caught.'
There was a knock at the apartment door.
Vandam said: 'What's that?'
'The door-'
'Yes, I know, are you expecting someone? Or something?'
'No, of course not, it's almost time for me to leave.'
Vandam frowned. Alarm bells were sounding. 'I don't like this. Don't answer.'
'All right,' Elene said. Then she changed her mind. 'I have to answer.
It might be my father. Or news of him.'
'Okay, answer it.'
Elene went out of the living room. Vandam sat listening. The knock came again, then she opened the door.
Vandam heard her say: 'Alex!'
Vandam whispered: 'Christ!'
He heard Wolff's voice. 'You're all ready. How delightful.' It was a deep, confident voice, the drawled English spoken with only the faintest trace of an unidentifiable accent.
Elene said: 'Of course.'
'I know. May I come in?'
Vandam leaped over the back of the sofa and lay on the floor behind it.
'Elene said: 'Of course
Wolff's voice came closer. 'My dear, you look exquisite tonight.'
Vandam thought: Smooth bastard.
The front door slammed shut.
Wolff said: 'This way?'
'Urn ... Yes . . .'
Vandam heard the two of them enter the room. Wolff said: 'What a lovely apartment. Mikis Aristopoulos, must pay you well.'
'Oh, I don't work there regularly. He's a distant relation, it's family, I help out.'
'Uncle. He must be your uncle.'
'Oh . . . great-uncle, second cousin, something. He calls me his niece for simplicity.'
'Well. These are for you.'
'Oh, flowers. Thank you.'
Vandam thought: Fuck that.
Wolff said: 'May I sit down?'
'Of course.'
Vandam felt the sofa shift as Wolff lowered his weight onto it. Wolff was a big man. Vandam remembered grappling with him in the alley. He also remembered the knife, and his hand went to the wound on his cheek. He thought: What can I do?
He could jump Wolff now. The spy was here, practically in his hands! They were about the same weight, and evenly matched-except for the knife. Wolff had had the knife that night when he had been dining with Sonja, so presumably he took it everywhere with him, and had it now. If they fought, and Wolff had the advantage of the knife, Wolff would win. It had happened before, in the alley. Vandam touched his cheek again.
He thought: Why didn't I bring the gun here?
If they fought, and Wolff won, what would happen then? Seeing Vandam in Elene's apartment, Wolff would know she had been trying to trap him. What would he do to her? In Istanbul, in a similar situation, he had slit the girl's throat.
Vandam blinked to shut out the awful image.
Wolff said: 'I see you were having a drink before I arrived. May I join you?'
'Of course,' Elene said again. 'What would you like?'
'What's that?' Wolff sniffed. 'Oh, a little gin would be very nice.' Vandam thought: That was my drink. Thank God Elene didn't have a drink as well-two glasses would have given the game away. He heard ice clink. 'Cheers!' Wolff said.
'Cheers.'
