'You don't seem to like it'
'The ice has melted.'
Vandam knew why she had made a face when she sipped his drink: it had been straight gin. She was coping so well with the situation, he thought. What did she think he, Vandam, was planning to do? She must have guessed by now where he was hiding. She would be trying desperately not to look in this direction. Poor Elene! Once again she had got more than she bargained for. Vandam hoped she would be passive, take the line of least resistance and trust him.
Did Wolff still plan to go to the Oasis Restaurant? Perhaps he did. If only I could be sure of that, Vandam thought, I could leave it all to Jakes. Wolff said: 'You seem nervous, Elene. Did I confuse your plans by coming here? If you want to go and finish getting ready, or something-not that you look a whit less than perfect right now- just leave me here with the gin bottle.'
'No, no ... Well, we did say we'd meet at the restaurant..
'And here I am, altering everything at the last minute again. To be truthful, I'm bored with restaurants, and yet they are, so to speak, the conventional meeting place; so I arrange to have dinner with people, then when the time comes I can't face it, and I think of something else to do.' So they're not going to the Oasis, Vandam thought. Damn.
Elene said: 'What do you want to do?'
'May I surprise you again?'
Vandam thought: Make him tell you
Elene said: 'All right.'
Vandam groaned inwardly. If Wolff would reveal where they were going, Vandam could contact Jakes and have the whole ambush moved to the new venue. Elene was not thinking the right way. It was understandable: she sounded terrified.
Wolff said: 'Shall we go?'
'All right.'
The sofa creaked as Wolff got up. Vandam thought: I could go for him now Too risky.
He heard them leave the room. He stayed where he was for a moment. He heard Wolff, in the hallway, say: 'After you.' Then the front door was slammed shut.
Vandam stood up. He would have to follow them, and take the first available opportunity of calling GHQ and contacting Jakes. Elene did not have a telephone, not many people did in Cairo. Even if she had there was no time now. lie went to the front door and listened. He heard nothing. He opened it a fraction: they had gone. He went out, closed the door and hurried along the corridor and down the stairs. As be stepped out of the building he saw them on the other side of the road, Wolff was holding open a car door for Elene to get in. It was not a taxi: Wolff must have rented, borrowed or stolen a car for the evening. Wolff closed the door on Elene and walked around to the driver's side. Elene looked out of the window and caught Vandam's eye. She stared at him. He looked away from her, afraid to make any kind of gesture in case Wolff should see it.
Vandam walked to his motorcycle, climbed on and started the engine.
Wolff's car pulled away, and Vandam followed.
The city traffic was still heavy. Vandam was able to keep five or six cars between himself and Wolff without risking losing Wolff. It was dusk, but few cars had their lights on.
Vandam wondered where Wolff was going. They were sure to stop somewhere, unless the man intended to drive around all night. If only they would stop someplace where there was a telephone.
They headed out of the city, toward Giza. Darkness fell and Wolff illuminated the lights of the car. Vandam left his motorcycle lights off, so that Wolff would not be able to see that he was being followed. It was a nightmare ride. Even in daylight, in the city, riding a motorcycle was a little hair-raising: the roads were strewn with bumps, potholes and treacherous patches of oil, and Vandam found he had to watch the surface as much as the traffic. The desert road was worse, and yet he now had to drive without lights and keep an eye on the car ahead. Three or four times he almost came off the bike.
He was cold. Not anticipating this ride, he had worn only a short-sleeved uniform shirt, and at speed the wind cut through it. How far was Wolff planning to go?
The pyramids loomed ahead.
Vandam thought: No phone there.
Wolffs car slowed down. They were going to picnic by the pyramids. Vandam cut the motorcycle engine and coasted to a halt. Before Wolff had a chance to get out of the car, Vandam wheeled his bike off the road on to the sand. The desert was not level, except when seen from a distance, and he found a rocky hump behind which to lay down the motorcycle. He lay in the sand beside the hump and watched the car. Nothing happened.
The car stayed still, its engine off, its interior dark. What where they doing in there? Vandam was seized by jealousy. He told himself not to be stupid-they were eating, that was all. Elene had told him about the last picnic: the smoked salmon, the cold chicken, the champagne. You could not kiss a girl with a mouthful of fish. Still, their fingers would touch as he handed her the wine . .
Shut up.
He decided to risk a cigarette. He moved behind the hump to light it, then cupped it in his hand, army fashion, to hide the glow as he returned to his vantage point.
Five cigarettes later the car doors opened.
The cloud had cleared and the moon was out the whole landscape was dark blue and silver, the complex shadow work of the pyramids rising out of shining sand. Two dark figures got out of the car and walked toward the nearest of the ancient tombs. Vandam, could see that Elene walked with her arms folded across her chest, as if she were cold, or perhaps because she did not want to hold Wolff's hand. Wolff put an arm lightly across her shoulders, and she made no move to resist him.
