The Treasures of Suleiman

by The Treasures of Suleiman (retail) (epub)

  Chapter 2

  London 2011

  The taxi pulled in at the side of the road and the driver reached up to turn off the meter.

  ‘Seventeen quid please, luv,’ he said and the female passenger passed a twenty-pound note through the aperture at the base of the dividing screen.

  ‘Keep the change,’ she said and waited for the internal clunk of the automatic lock to disengage before opening the door and getting out. She pulled her coat closer to keep out the drizzle and walked up the street to the coffee shop on the corner.

  The Coffee House, said the sign above the door as she walked in, pleasantly surprised at the welcoming warmth inside. A quiet murmur circulated around the shop from the few people sat at the tables but one man in particular sat alone at the main coffee bar. Though his back was towards her, she recognised him immediately and walked up to look over his shoulder.

  ‘Hello, Brandon,’ she said, smiling as the man jumped up to greet her.

  ‘India,’ he said, kissing her on both cheeks, ‘you made it!’

  ‘I took the afternoon off, they owe me some time.’

  ‘Great,’ he said. ‘I’ll take your coat and you grab a table. Coffee and cake do you?’

  ‘Lovely, carrot cake, please.’

  ‘No problem,’ said Brandon and smiled at the girl behind the counter.

  ‘Did you catch that?’

  ‘I’ll bring it over,’ said the girl.

  Brandon joined India at the table in the bay window.

  ‘So, how is life in library world?’

  ‘Oh, you know, same old, same old,’ she said. ‘How about you? Is the detective business OK?’

  ‘Good,’ he said, ‘though not as exciting as I’d hoped.’

  ‘Making a living though?’

  ‘Oh yes, plenty of money, but a bit boring.’

  ‘Well, what did you expect after last time?’ asked India. ‘I suppose it would have to be something special to follow the last little escapade. Cases involving secret societies, murders and ancient artefacts don’t come along every day.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose they do,’ said Brandon. He took a sip of coffee before continuing. ‘You know, I was really disappointed you didn’t take me up on that offer to be a partner, you never did call.’

  ‘I know,’ said India. ‘I did think about it, honestly. It’s just that as far back as I can remember, my life has always been ordered and predictable, and as much as Mortuus Virgo excited me, the thought of a life of murders, guns and secrets just seemed too big a leap.’

  ‘It’s OK,’ said Brandon, ‘no need to explain, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea I suppose, but something has come up and I thought you might be interested. Got a bit of history about it, it seems.’

  ‘Hence the phone call?’ asked India.

  ‘Hence the phone call,’ confirmed Brandon.

  ‘So, what’s it all about?’ asked India.

  Brandon reached inside his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, sliding it across the table toward India.

  ‘Read that,’ he said. ‘It’s a copy of an e-mail I received last month.’

  India unfolded the paper and read the message aloud.

  Dear Mr Walker, I hope you are well.

  I expect after our last little run-in I am the last person you thought you would hear from. Nevertheless, I am contacting you due to the extraordinary success you had uncovering Mortuus Virgo. After my unsuccessful attempts, I have to admit that your tenacity and resourcefulness left me somewhat impressed. Consequently, I have a situation that may interest you. I cannot go into detail over the internet as there are dangerous people involved but suffice to say, it involves something that has value untold and may appeal to you and your partner’s particular skills. If you are interested, I would like to welcome you and India to my house on Samothrace so I can explain in detail. Hope to hear from you soon.

  Warmest regards.

  B Gatilusi

  ‘Gatilusi,’ she said in astonishment. ‘The bloody nerve of the man.’

  ‘That was my first reaction,’ said Brandon, ‘though I suppose he did help us out back in the convent.’

  ‘He also killed Murray, don’t forget.’

  ‘I know, that’s why I didn’t pay much attention, not until yesterday.’

  ‘What happened yesterday?’ asked India.

  ‘I had a phone call on my private number. The guy on the other end was foreign and he warned me off.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Basically told me to stay away from Gatilusi or suffer the consequences.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Yup!’

  ‘But Gatilusi hasn’t told you anything.’

  ‘I know that and you know that, but apparently the guy on the phone assumed I was well informed.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ said Brandon, ‘so I phoned him.’

  ‘You did what?’ asked India.

  ‘I phoned Gatilusi,’ said Brandon. ‘I got his number from the Samothrace police and gave him a call.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘Nothing, he wasn’t available. In fact, the officer I spoke to demanded to know who I was and why was I asking so many questions.’

  ‘I still don’t see what that has got to do with us,’ said India.

  ‘Perhaps nothing,’ said Brandon, ‘but I am very curious to find out what’s going on, aren’t you?’

  ‘Not really, it’s all something of nothing.’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s intriguing?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I receive a mysterious e-mail, hinting at some ancient secret. Then I get a death threat warning me off and finally, the person asking for my help can’t be contacted. You have to admit, it’s not exactly run of the mill.’

  ‘I suppose not, but it’s none of our business.’

  ‘It could be.’

  India stared at Brandon before shaking her head.

  ‘You’re not seriously considering taking this on are you?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because it’s dangerous, that’s why.’

  ‘India, the man contacted us, nobody else, you and me. He was involved in something that he thought we could help with and now he seems to have disappeared. If there is anything we can do to help the police investigation then it is our duty to do whatever we can. Besides, don’t forget that despite the current circumstances, he helped us get out of that convent alive.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ India sighed. ‘What are you proposing?’

  ‘Look, all I am suggesting is that we go out there for a couple of days and have a look around. You can spend some time on the beach while I make some enquiries, and if it comes to nothing, then at least we both get a holiday out of it.’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Oh come on, India,’ said Brandon, ‘the place is reeking with history, you will be in your element. Same deal as last time, double your salary plus expenses.’

  ‘I suppose I can get a couple of weeks off,’ said India eventually.

  ‘Great,’ said Brandon, ‘then that’s agreed. You go and get packed and I’ll meet you at the airport tomorrow at nine.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ said India. ‘It’s too short notice. I won’t be able to process the leave application in time.’

  ‘No need,’ said Brandon. ‘It’s already done. Come on, I’ll drop you home.’

  India stared at him incredulously before standing to follow him out of the cafe.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ she mumbled as she went, ‘bloody unbelievable!’

  * * *

  Two days later, India and Brandon stepped off the ferry from Alexandroupoli to Samothrace.

  ‘It seems like only yesterday,’ said India.

  ‘It does,’ agreed Brandon. ‘I bet Agatha will be surprised to see us.’

  India stopped.

  ‘Um, Brandon?’ she said.

  Brandon stopped and turned back toward her.
>
  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve got a confession to make.’

  Brandon stared at her for a few seconds before putting the cases down on the pavement.

  ‘What have you done?’ he asked with an air of resignation.

  ‘I booked us into the Hotel Kastro,’ she said quickly.

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘It’s the best hotel on the island,’ she said. ‘Swimming pool, restaurants, nightlife, it’s got the lot.’

  ‘India, we are supposed to be working,’ he said.

  ‘I know, but not twenty-four seven. All I am saying is, why can’t we have some fun at the same time?’

  ‘But I’ve booked Agatha’s,’ he said. ‘She will be expecting us.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ said India, ‘I phoned her and cancelled. We now have two air-conditioned rooms booked at the Kastro, less than a hundred yards from the beach.’

  ‘And you paid for this?’ he asked.

  ‘I did, on expenses, of course.’

  ‘Expenses?’

  ‘You did say I could claim expenses,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘You are unbelievable,’ he laughed.

  ‘So it’s all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ he sighed, ‘I suppose I could do with a break.’

  ‘Then what are we waiting for?’ she smiled. ‘Call us a taxi.’

  * * *

  Nine o’clock the following morning, India lay on a sunbed beside the hotel pool, the scorching Aegean sun already drying her white bikini after her first dip in the water. Brandon approached and paused for a few seconds, admiring the young woman’s perfect body.

  ‘Ahem!’ he coughed after a few seconds, and India raised her sunglasses.

  ‘Hello, sleepyhead,’ she said.

  ‘Good morning,’ said Brandon. ‘You look nice.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, adjusting her position self-consciously. ‘How’s your hangover?’

  ‘A bit of a headache, that’s all, nothing a good walk won’t sort out.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Into town, I’ve got an appointment with the police.’

  ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

  ‘No, you chill out here and I’ll go and see what this is all about.’

  ‘How long will you be?

  ‘A couple of hours, I suppose.’

  ‘OK, why don’t we meet up at lunch?’

  ‘Sounds good,’ he said. ‘See you then.’

  Brandon turned and walked away from the pool area. He left the hotel and took the coast road toward Kamariotissa, enjoying the sea breeze as he walked.

  * * *

  An hour later he was sat in an office waiting to see the duty officer. A young man in black trousers and a white short-sleeved shirt entered the room. Brandon stood to shake his hand.

  ‘Mr Walker?’ asked the young man.

  ‘That’s right,’ replied Brandon. ‘Brandon Walker, and you are?’

  ‘Adriano Boulos. We spoke on the phone a couple of days ago, thank you for coming.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Adriano,’ said Brandon. ‘So, how can I help?’ They sat down on opposite sides of the table and Adriano poured them both a glass of chilled water.

  ‘First of all, Brandon,’ he paused and looked up, ‘can I call you Brandon? Good. The first thing is to realise is that I know all about you.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. I was Gatilusi’s aide and he told me everything about the Mortuus Virgo thing.’

  ‘And how does that affect this situation?’

  Adriano stood up and closed the door to the room before sitting down once again.

  ‘What I am about to say is off the record.’

  ‘OK,’ said Brandon slowly.

  ‘The thing is, I’ve brought you here under false pretences.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I told you Gatilusi is missing.’

  ‘You mean he’s not?’

  ‘No, I mean he’s dead.’

  Brandon sat back in his chair, shocked at the revelation.

  ‘My God,’ he said. ‘Are you sure about this?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Adriano. ‘He is buried less than three kilometres from here.’

  ‘But why lie to me?’ asked Brandon.

  ‘Because I was not sure if you would help, and if you decided it wasn’t something you wanted to get involved in, then there was no point in making that information public.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I think he was murdered, and I would rather keep that information between us for now.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Look, over the last few weeks, Gatilusi had become distracted. He spent many days off the island but wouldn’t tell anybody where he went. All he told me was he had some very exciting news, something that could change the fortunes of Samothrace forever.’

  ‘Where have I heard that before?’ sneered Brandon.

  ‘I know,’ said Adriano, ‘he was a bit fixated on things like that, but you couldn’t fault his patriotism. Anyway, one evening he called me and told me to come up to the house as he had something to tell me, something wonderful.’

  ‘Why did he call you?’ asked Brandon.

  ‘I told you, I was his aide and we trusted each other implicitly.’

  ‘And did you find out this wonderful news?’

  ‘No, because by the time I got there, he was already dead.’

  ‘I suppose there was an investigation?’

  ‘There was.’

  ‘And what did they come up with?’

  ‘Nothing much. I wanted to delve deeper but was called in to the governor’s office and told to back off. I was told that it would undermine the people’s confidence if they suspected that the ministry couldn’t protect one of their own.’

  ‘And you are uncomfortable with that?’

  ‘Yes. Gatilusi was no angel but he always had the best interests of this island at heart. His roots stretch back hundreds of years and he would do nothing that would harm Samothrace or its inhabitants. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for the ministry, there are too many people on the take.’

  ‘Why not go to the Greek police?’

  ‘There are things you don’t understand here. Samothrace is riddled with organisations and brotherhoods that stretch back thousands of years. Many officials from the mainland are part of these secret societies and I don’t know who I can trust.’

  ‘So that’s why you called me?’

  ‘It is. We are a small island, Brandon, everyone knows everyone else or has a relative in high places. I think he was murdered and that he died because he was on to something.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I don’t know, but whatever it was, it must have been big. Who would risk killing a senior police officer on this tiny island? The probability of being found out is huge.’

  ‘How did he die?’ asked Brandon.

  ‘The official records say it was a heart attack.’

  ‘But you don’t believe that.’

  ‘I don’t know, Brandon, the post-mortem was done by a reputable doctor, but it doesn’t make sense. Gatilusi was thirty-two years old and very fit. He had regular medicals and was not considered at risk of a heart attack.’

  ‘Perhaps he disturbed a burglar and the stress was too much?’

  ‘I considered that,’ said Adriano. ‘Gatilusi’s house is filled with valuable antiquities, yet nothing was taken.’

  Brandon sat back, the information swimming around his head.

  ‘So,’ he said, ‘assuming I was to help you, what help can you offer me?’

  ‘Not much, though I have access to records and have many contacts.’

  ‘Can you get me into Gatilusi’s house?’

  ‘I can.’

  ‘OK, at least that’s something. Is there anything else you can tell me?’

  ‘No, that’s about it. Not much, I know, but I am convinced that anyone delving a bit deeper may find out
what he was hiding.’

  ‘OK,’ said Brandon eventually. ‘What time can we go to his house?’

  ‘I’m free in half an hour, we could go up then.’

  ‘Could you make it a bit later, I need to pick up an encyclopaedia.’

  ‘There’s a good library in the village, if that helps,’ said Adriano.

  ‘No, it’s OK,’ said Brandon, ‘the type of encyclopaedia I need is currently sunbathing at the Hotel Kastro and looks great in a bikini. Pick us up at seven?’

  ‘Seven it is,’ said Adriano.

  Chapter 3

  Topkapi Palace 1554

  Pasha returned to his chambers from morning prayers. He had been kept busy in the palace since the axe man’s blade had removed Muhiddin’s head from his shoulders forty days earlier. Eventually, as the workload eased, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to Muhiddin’s last words.

  He was well aware of the map of Piri Reis as it had been a wonderful gift from the admiral to Sultan Selim the Steadfast, Suleiman’s father, and was the culmination of many years’ work. The court of Selim had pored over it in astonishment as it showed a detailed and beautifully illustrated map, not only of the Ottoman Empire and the lands of the Middle East, but of places outside of their knowledge at the far side of a sea even greater than the mighty Mediterranean. At first many refused to believe the admiral and scorned the idea that lands greater than their own existed; however, when he explained that parts of the map came from the charts of Columbus himself, they studied it in even greater detail. Selim was an avid follower of the famous explorer and envied the calibre of the Spanish sailors who sailed into the unknown to seek new lands.

  When Selim died, his son Suleiman had the map removed from the audience chamber and hung it as a decoration in the chambers of the Ikbals, the lowly harem girls the sultan slept with occasionally. However, despite knowing the location, Pasha had never seen the map himself as nobody except the sultan and the black eunuch guards were allowed to even look at the women, let alone enter the building itself. Anyone stupid enough to even approach the harem quarter would be cut down mercilessly by the eunuchs, but Pasha had no intention of putting himself at risk; he had been at the sultan’s court for many years and was fully familiar with the intrigue and gossip the sprawling palace harboured.