Gabriel said nothing.
Rutke stepped forward. “What do you know about das chinesische-Geschaft?”
“Nothing,” Gabriel said, and realized he’d spoken too quickly once again. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He decided to be honest. Be honest where you can: it was a rule of interrogation that he’d learnt somewhere.
“I’ve heard the name,” he said candidly. “But I’ve no idea what it is.”
Rutke and von Bishop looked at each other.
“Well,” von Bishop said wearily. “I’m afraid you will have to stay locked up a while longer.” He paused, then stuck his forefinger in an ear and wriggled it about. “You were wounded at Tanga, weren’t you,” he said in a more friendly voice. “Do you know an English officer called Bilderbeck?”
“Yes,” Gabriel said. “How do you know?” He thought back to those days on the Homayun and on the battlefield three years ago. It seemed like a lifetime.
“He’s dead,” von Bishop said, looking at the end of his finger. “He died a few weeks ago. I was at Tanga. I met him. I seem to remember he was a friend of yours.”
“Yes. Well, I suppose he was. In a way.”
“I thought you’d like to know.”
“Thank you,” Gabriel said. “Thank you for telling me.” What a peculiar man this von Bishop was. He wondered how Bilderbeck had died. He wondered if von Bishop was making a threat of some kind.
♦
The next day passed with unbelievable slowness. In the enclosed hut the air was hot and fetid. Hundreds of flies hummed and skittered in its darkness. Twice Deeg came and led him to a latrine trench behind the prison cage. He was escorted on each occasion by Deeg and four of his ruga-ruga. On the second journey some of the prisoners cheered him as he limped by on the way back. “Keep it up, sir,” they shouted. “Don’t worry, our boys’ll be here soon.” Gabriel managed a smile and a wave. The ruga-ruga dashed forward and prodded fiercely through the wire with their rifle butts. His food that day consisted of a bottle of water and a bowl of mealie porridge.
That night he stretched out on the beaten earth floor and tried to find a position which would be comfortable enough to let him sleep. His leg wound was aching dully and his entire left arm seemed to be trembling now. He shut his eyes. He wondered how long it would be before the British army arrived.
He turned over. The floor was hard, whining mosquitos seemed to be biting every exposed inch of his body. God alone knew what kinds of ticks and vermin existed in this sort of store shed. He heard a distinct rustling sound. Oh my God, he thought with alarm, sitting up. There’s a rat in the roof, or a snake…
“Gabriel!” a voice whispered.
He jumped in fright. It was Liesl behind the shed. He crawled over. Through a large slit between the planks he saw a pale section of her face.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Is there a guard?”
“No. Listen, Gabriel. I’ve got news. They’re going to take you with them.”
Gabriel felt a thump of fear in his chest. “Who? Where?”
“Our troops. They’re crossing the Rovuma into Portuguese East.”
“Oh my God. When?”
“I don’t know. Tomorrow. The next day.”
“Oh God.” Gabriel felt cold, fluttering sensations of panic. “But why? For God’s sake, why me?”
“I’m not sure. Erich won’t tell me. I think he is suspicious. A bit. They say you know some secret.”
Gabriel could feel the breath from her words on his cheek. Their faces were only an inch or so apart, separated by the wooden wall.
“A secret? What?”
“I don’t know. They say you know a secret, that’s all.”
Gabriel felt like weeping. What could he know that was so important? He thought of the information on his dossier. It was weeks out of date. Surely that wouldn’t warrant them taking him into Portuguese East?
“What secret can it be?” he repeated frantically.
“I don’t know, Gabriel. They won’t tell me.”
“You’ve got to help me, Liesl,” he said desperately. “I’ve got to get away. They mustn’t take me.”
“I told them,” she said. “I said you weren’t strong, that you needed medical attention.”
“That’s right,” Gabriel agreed, almost whimpering. “It would kill me.”
“I told them.”
“What did they say?”
“They said they had doctors. It didn’t matter.”
“You’ve got to help me, Liesl,” Gabriel raised his voice.
“Ssh. Of course I will.” It sounded like the most reasonable request in the world.
“I’ve got to escape.” Gabriel thought quickly. “Bring me something to dig with. A knife or something. And some food and water…How far away are the British?”
“Near Nambindinga, I think. Forty-five kilometres, I think.”
“That’s north?”
“Yes, north directly.”
“Bring everything tomorrow night, can you?”
“Yes. At the same time. Erich thinks I am on duty at the hospital.”
They were silent for a second. Gabriel saw a gleam of light in the jelly of her eye ball.
“Gabriel?”
“Yes.”
“Why were you outside my house?”
He swallowed. “I came to see you.”
“Me? Why?”
“For some reason. I wanted to see you.”
“Because of the end of the war?”
“Yes,” he said. “That’s it.”
“But Erich and Rutke and Deeg say you are a spy. That you have been spying all the time.”
“It’s not true.” Then he added, the honesty making his voice hoarse, “It was just something I did.”
“Why?”
“To console myself.”
“I told them you weren’t a spy.” She paused. “I should go now.”
Gabriel had a final thought. “Liesl. Tomorrow night. Can you bring me some paper and a pencil?”
“Paper and pencil? Are you sure? All right. I will.”
♦
The next day passed as slowly as the one before. On his trips to the latrine Gabriel became aware of more bustle in the town: columns of marching men, officers speeding up and down the street on bicycles, a general air of preparing to move. He prayed they wouldn’t pull out before dark. In the afternoon he thought he heard a distant sound of gunfire but he couldn’t be sure.
That night Liesl came as she had promised. She slipped a flattened iron bar through a crack between the planks. It felt like part of a heavy hinge. In ten minutes he had dug a hollow beneath the wooden walls big enough for his thin body to squirm under. Liesl helped him to his feet. She handed him an old sack.
“There’s some food and a bottle of water,” she whispered. “Some matches, a bit of cheese and two candles for the dark. Don’t go far Gabriel, please. Just go away and hide. They won’t wait to catch you. A lot are staying behind to wait for the English. Go and hide for two days, then you can come back.”
“Right,” Gabriel said. He had hardly taken her words in. They were standing up against the back wall of the shed. A quarter moon only provided enough light for Gabriel to see the bold features of her face. Her shadowed eyes, her nostrils, the gash of her mouth. Their whispering meant that they stood only a foot apart. Gabriel could smell her: a faint scent of cigarette smoke, fresh smell of perspiration. He could sense the bulk of her soft body in the dark so close to his. He felt an overpowering urge to take her in his arms. Just once to feel her breasts crush against him. Just once to kiss her neck, somehow to be swallowed up and immersed in one quintessential embrace…