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Authors: Peter Abrahams
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rattled the windows. He closed his eyes and began to dream of the desert and General Gordon and the warrior hordes of the Mahdi who had killed him. He sank deeper into sleep. The desert grew broader, the hordes vaster. He rode with them on a huge black horse. Faster and faster he rode. He led them. The hooves of the great black horse scarcely touched the ground. The warriors followed him, filling the whole desert. Invincible. Nothing could stand before him. He was the wind.
When Isaac Rehv awoke, he was not the same man.
CHAPTER SIX
Krebs spent part of the night in bed and part of it on the couch in the den. This was not unusual: A blanket waited for him there, folded on the bottom shelf of the liquor cabinet, a mute and commonplace symbol of the difficulties of his marriage.
He had come home late from the office, eaten a ham sandwich, and gone to bed, thinking of Armbrister and his salmon steaks. Alice arrived much later. Krebs listened to her turn the car into the drive. He heard a new squeak. She made no effort at all to maintain the car, but he never said anything. It was her car, bought with money her father had given her.
Krebs heard her footsteps on the stairs, slightly too heavy, slightly unsteady, and heard her go into the bathroom. He heard her urinate and flush the toilet. He didnât hear her wash her hands or her face or brush her teeth. He knew her too well to attribute this to the sound of the toilet flushing.
She came to the bed. He kept his eyes closed.
âRobert?â she said in a stage whisper. He said nothing. First he smelled a little puff of whisky breath, then he felt the mattress undulate beneath him as she got into bed. Krebs was about to fall asleep when he felt the light touch of her hand on his thigh. It was very light. He knew it was meant to be flirtatious and sexy. Without looking he knew exactly the expression on her face: eyes big and coy, lips slightly parted in anxiety and expectation. He hated that expression.
They made love, or had intercourse, or performed the sex act: He didnât know what to call these infrequent attempts. Krebs kept his eyes closed the whole time, and tried to imagine he was inside the hard girl who brought him coffee. But Alice wasnât hard. She was soft and plumps.
âThatâs too rough, Robert,â she said. But it was over anyway. The whole time hadnât lasted long enough. Her body went very still, waiting rigidly for him to move off her. Then she rolled to her side of the bed and pulled the blankets over her like armor plate. He was wide awake. He sensed her tense body across the sheets, full of complicated emotion. After a while he got out of bed and went down to the den. As he left he heard her make a soft sound between her teeth.
Much later he slept. He dreamed of cows under the sea. He had not finished dreaming of them when the telephone rang. Krebs was always very quick to shake off sleep. The telephone sat on a little desk on the far side of the room, but he answered it before the second ring.
âKrebs?â It was Armbrister.
âIâve got it, Alice,â Krebs said. He waited. âIâve got it, thank you,â he said again. He heard a muffled click, and the connection with Armbrister became less diffuse.
âSeparate bedrooms?â Armbrister said, sounding pleasantly surprised.
âI was just up doing some paperwork.â
âGood for you. Since youâre up anyway a drive to Manhattan wonât be such an annoyance. Your friend from the East has run into some difficulty. Forty-third and Seventh. The Sheba.â
âWeâll meet there?â
âNo. Itâs a one-man job.â
Krebs hung up. It was too much of an annoyance for Armbrister to go, although he lived in Manhattan. Krebs lived in New Jersey.
He went to the window and looked out between the curtains. It was still very dark, but there would be no point in coming home after he looked in at the Sheba. He would go
When Isaac Rehv awoke, he was not the same man.
CHAPTER SIX
Krebs spent part of the night in bed and part of it on the couch in the den. This was not unusual: A blanket waited for him there, folded on the bottom shelf of the liquor cabinet, a mute and commonplace symbol of the difficulties of his marriage.
He had come home late from the office, eaten a ham sandwich, and gone to bed, thinking of Armbrister and his salmon steaks. Alice arrived much later. Krebs listened to her turn the car into the drive. He heard a new squeak. She made no effort at all to maintain the car, but he never said anything. It was her car, bought with money her father had given her.
Krebs heard her footsteps on the stairs, slightly too heavy, slightly unsteady, and heard her go into the bathroom. He heard her urinate and flush the toilet. He didnât hear her wash her hands or her face or brush her teeth. He knew her too well to attribute this to the sound of the toilet flushing.
She came to the bed. He kept his eyes closed.
âRobert?â she said in a stage whisper. He said nothing. First he smelled a little puff of whisky breath, then he felt the mattress undulate beneath him as she got into bed. Krebs was about to fall asleep when he felt the light touch of her hand on his thigh. It was very light. He knew it was meant to be flirtatious and sexy. Without looking he knew exactly the expression on her face: eyes big and coy, lips slightly parted in anxiety and expectation. He hated that expression.
They made love, or had intercourse, or performed the sex act: He didnât know what to call these infrequent attempts. Krebs kept his eyes closed the whole time, and tried to imagine he was inside the hard girl who brought him coffee. But Alice wasnât hard. She was soft and plumps.
âThatâs too rough, Robert,â she said. But it was over anyway. The whole time hadnât lasted long enough. Her body went very still, waiting rigidly for him to move off her. Then she rolled to her side of the bed and pulled the blankets over her like armor plate. He was wide awake. He sensed her tense body across the sheets, full of complicated emotion. After a while he got out of bed and went down to the den. As he left he heard her make a soft sound between her teeth.
Much later he slept. He dreamed of cows under the sea. He had not finished dreaming of them when the telephone rang. Krebs was always very quick to shake off sleep. The telephone sat on a little desk on the far side of the room, but he answered it before the second ring.
âKrebs?â It was Armbrister.
âIâve got it, Alice,â Krebs said. He waited. âIâve got it, thank you,â he said again. He heard a muffled click, and the connection with Armbrister became less diffuse.
âSeparate bedrooms?â Armbrister said, sounding pleasantly surprised.
âI was just up doing some paperwork.â
âGood for you. Since youâre up anyway a drive to Manhattan wonât be such an annoyance. Your friend from the East has run into some difficulty. Forty-third and Seventh. The Sheba.â
âWeâll meet there?â
âNo. Itâs a one-man job.â
Krebs hung up. It was too much of an annoyance for Armbrister to go, although he lived in Manhattan. Krebs lived in New Jersey.
He went to the window and looked out between the curtains. It was still very dark, but there would be no point in coming home after he looked in at the Sheba. He would go
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