by Hodge, Sibel
‘Actually, I’m a wedding photographer. And Kalem’s a very sought-after sculpture and woodcarving teacher. In fact, his own works of art have been exhibited in many national exhibitions.’ OK, that last bit was a little white lie, but he wasn’t to know that. I gave Kalem a beaming smile. Kalem gave me a small shake of his head, as if to tell me to shut up. ‘And, I might add, he’s now been head-hunted by a university here in North Cyprus to teach and found a new research department on historical sculpture.’ I sat back in the chair with a smug smile on my face. Take that, Mr. High and Mighty!
Erol tapped his forefinger on the desk. ‘Interesting. Which university?’
‘The Cyprus University of Architecture and Ancient Art,’ Kalem said.
‘Sounds a bit of a prestigious position for a sculpture and woodcarving teacher,’ Erol said.
‘Well, my specialist subjects are actually rare and ancient artworks and sculptures. But there’s not much call for that in the UK.’
Erol considered this for a while. ‘Well, enough of this nonsense.’
‘There’s something else in the case, as well, that you should be aware about,’ Kalem said.
Erol sighed impatiently. ‘Really? And what’s that? Suntan lotion? Sunglasses? Speedos?’ He raised his hands in mock horror. ‘A plot to enjoy a holiday!’ He shook his head.
Ooh. I was this close to boiling point now. ‘Right.’ I dumped all the clothes on the floor and opened the false bottom of the case. Removing the carbon paper, I pointed to the wads of hundred dollar notes underneath. ‘What about this, then? You don’t think this is in the least bit suspicious?’
That got his attention rather quickly.
Erol’s eyes nearly pinged out of his head. He stood up, walked around the desk and waste paper bin next to it, and bent down in front of the case. He stared at the money, then picked up a bundle and sniffed it. He examined it carefully. Then another one. Then another.
‘There’s half a million dollars inside,’ Kalem said.
‘Well, this puts a slightly different slant on things,’ Erol said, unable to take his eyes off the money.
‘So we can leave it all with you, and you’ll investigate it?’ I asked hopefully.
‘Hmm?’ Erol sniffed another bundle, seemingly oblivious to our presence.
‘You’ll investigate it? The plot to steal the sculpture and kill Ibrahim Kaya,’ Kalem said, slightly louder.
‘Yes. Yes of course I’ll investigate it.’ Erol slammed the lid of the case shut and zipped it up. ‘Leave everything to me.’ He walked back around to his side of the desk and sat down. ‘You don’t have to worry about a thing.’
‘Well, there was actually something else. You see, we’re getting married on Sunday, and my wedding dress was in the suitcase that this other man picked up. I need to get my dress back. When you investigate, can you make sure you get my wedding dress back? It’s very important.’
‘Of course! Of course. No problem at all,’ he said, suddenly all helpful and polite. ‘Where are you staying?’
‘At the Ottoman Hotel,’ Kalem said.
Erol stood up and nodded towards the door, indicating we were dismissed. ‘Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll look into everything straight away.’
‘Great.’ I stood up too. ‘Thanks very much.’
As Kalem and I strode towards the door, I sneaked a glance over my shoulder just before I pulled it closed behind me and saw Erol depositing the building plans, itinerary, photo, and note into the waste paper bin.
****
‘What are we going to do now?’ I flopped down onto a bench outside the building. ‘If it was someone else, maybe they might’ve listened to us.’ I leaped from the bench and paced up and down. ‘Erol bloody Hussein, of all people. He’s thrown all the evidence in the bin. Well, all the evidence apart from the money. He’s not even going to bother investigating this, is he? I should’ve known he couldn’t change.’
‘Arrogant bastard. I don’t understand why he’s still carrying on this grudge thing he’s got against me.’ It was Kalem’s turn to start pacing now.
‘It’s been going on for years,’ I said. ‘He should have grown out of it by now. We’re not exactly kids in the playground anymore, are we?’
‘It goes back further than that. His dad and my dad did their military service together when they were about sixteen, and they were best friends. I don’t know what happened; Dad would never talk about it, but he had some kind of fall out with Erol’s dad. I guess that’s when it all began. And Erol has just carried on some kind of grudge because of it.’
‘So what are we going to do?’ I glanced up at the building behind, suddenly having a creepy feeling that Erol was watching us from his office window.
Maybe he’d even bugged us somehow. Since I wasn’t exactly experienced in murder and art theft, I didn’t know how these things worked. Maybe Miss Nail File had put a bug in my water, and it was floating around in my stomach. Although I suspected the only thing they’d be hearing at the moment was a nervous, churning sound.
‘You’re right,’ Kalem said. ‘If he’s thrown everything in the bin, he’s not going to bother to investigate things. I know what he’s like. I bet he’ll just keep the money instead.’ He ran a hand over his closely cropped hair.
‘Come on. I don’t want to sit here.’ I grabbed Kalem’s arm and pulled him towards the car. ‘I think we’ve got no choice but to go to the police and report it to them after all. We’ll just tell them we’ve handed all the evidence over to Erol. Then we can get on with our lives. They can’t just ignore us as well if we’re reporting a crime, can they?’
Yes, that was it. The police would investigate. They’d find Ferret Face and stop any crime happening. Then they’d find my wedding dress, and I could concentrate on enjoying the rest of my new life here. Simple.
An oppressive weight suddenly lifted from my shoulders as Kalem started the engine.
****
Five traffic lights, four roundabouts, and another dual-carriage way later – a good sign for cosmopolitan, modern countryishness; would add to list – we pulled up outside the police station.
I was out of the car and almost at the entrance before Kalem even locked it. I wanted to get this horrible task over with as soon as possible.
‘Wait,’ Kalem called to me as I stepped into the entrance. ‘I left my mobile phone in the Land Rover. I’ll just grab it in case someone needs to get hold of us.’ He walked back towards the vehicle.
But I couldn’t wait. I was just about to walk up to the front desk on my right, staffed by two middle-aged policemen drinking Turkish coffee, when something down a hallway in the distance caught my eye.
No. It couldn’t be. Was it? I squinted, trying to get a better look. Yes! It was!
My eyelids flipped wide open, and I stood, rooted to the spot like someone had just used industrial strength Superglue on my feet.
The air was hot, but I felt icy cold.
It was him – Ferret Face – in the distance, having a very cosy chat with a tall policeman wearing glasses. Actually, judging by the amount of gold stars on his epaulettes and shirt sleeves, it looked like he was a pretty high-up policeman.
I watched as they leaned in close to each other, murmuring something. Ferret Face had an intense look of concentration on his face. He nodded a few times, whispered something back, then did a furtive glance around the hall to see if anyone was nearby. That’s when he caught my eye.
Agh! Quick! Move!
My heart danced around in my chest. Act normal! Act normal!
I waved at the policeman behind the front desk, as if I knew him. ‘Goodbye, thanks for your help,’ I said to the policeman, who gave me a peculiar look.
Then I managed to place one foot in front of the other, ambling calmly out of the station like I didn’t have a care in the world. Like I hadn’t just stared evil in the face.
I nearly bumped into Kalem coming in the door. ‘Quick! We’ve got to go,’ I hissed at him.
‘What? Why? We just got here.’
‘Quick! Ferret Face is in there.’ I yanked his arm in the direction of the car before Ferret Face spotted Kalem.
Chapter 6
‘I need a coffee – no, I need something stronger. A glass of wine. Or even a bottle. Maybe five bottles,’ I said to Kalem when we arrived back at our hotel room.
I shrugged off my handbag and stepped onto the balcony, staring out into the endless deep blue Mediterranean. It was completely still, resembling a sheet of navy coloured ice, and looked so inviting. So pure and natural and uncomplicated. All I wanted to do was dive in and swim away to anywhere but here. It was about forty miles from here to the tip of Turkey. How long would it take me to swim there and disappear, far out of reach from Ferret Face? Would my arms fall off from too much front crawl, or would I get eaten by sharks and end up as fish food?
‘I’ll order some room service.’ Kalem’s voice dragged me out of my escapist thoughts and brought me charging back to reality.
‘I need a cigar as well.’
‘You don’t smoke!’
‘Well, occasionally I do, when I’m really stressed.’ I gave him a sheepish look. ‘And I know it’s weird, but I’m feeling REALLY FUCKING STRESSED! Oh, God. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to shout, but it feels like our whole world is falling apart.’
‘O...K. I see your point. I’ll order some.’ Kalem managed a grim smile and ordered the supplies.
I stared out to sea, contemplating the disastrous couple of days so far. What the hell were we going to do now? How were we supposed to save the sculpture, Ibrahim Kaya, and have the perfect wedding and live happily ever after? At the moment, it didn’t seem possible.
A chill of fear clutched at my heart. How could we ever survive this?
Someone knocked at the door with a loud bang.
I jumped. My heartbeat clanged around like an orchestra. I was definitely going to have a heart attack at this rate.
‘Only me!’ Charlie barged in as Kalem opened the door. ‘How did it go?’ He sat next to me. ‘I want to hear all about it. Ayshe and Atila are on their way.’ After observing my pained look, Charlie gave my hand a quick squeeze.
Ayshe and Atila arrived at the same time as the room service.
‘Hi, everyone.’ Ayshe rushed over to me. ‘Well, what happened? What did they say?’
‘Here you go.’ Kalem kissed the top of my head and handed me a glass of red wine, then proceeded to pile up a plate of chicken shish kebab, salad, and moist bulgur wheat with tomatoes, fresh chillies, and olive oil in it.
I downed the wine in one go as the others looked on expectantly.
Charlie eyed my now empty glass. ‘That bad?’
‘Worse.’ I slowly filled them in on the day’s events as I picked at my food.
‘I know why Dad and Erol Hussein’s dad don’t get on any more,’ Ayshe said.
‘Why?’ Charlie’s ears pricked up at the whiff of a bit of gossip.
‘Erol’s dad was in love with Mum,’ Ayshe said. ‘They all used to hang around together when they were younger. Apparently, he never got over it when Mum fell in love with Dad instead of him. That’s why they fell out.’
‘Ooh! So your mum was a sought after woman.’ Charlie’s eyes widened with excitement.
‘Look, guys, I think we need some kind of a plan,’ I said, trying to steer them back to the problem at hand.
‘I’d say that was an understatement,’ Atila said.
I pushed away my half-eaten plate, willing my brain to go into overdrive plan-thinking mode. I wasn’t very good at planning. I’d tried to plan the perfect wedding and look what had happened so far.
Kalem stared out to sea, a pensive look clouding his gorgeous face.
Ayshe rubbed her stomach distractedly.
I gave a defeated shrug. ‘Well, if someone in the police is involved and Erol Bloody Hussein doesn’t want to know. What else can we do?’ I asked to no one in particular. ‘Storm the President’s office and demand to see the big man himself?’
Kalem shook his head. ‘We’d just get arrested.’
‘Take out a newspaper ad?’ I said.
‘They probably wouldn’t even print it,’ Ayshe said. ‘They’d think you were a nutcase.’
‘She is a nutcase,’ Charlie said. ‘But in a nice way,’ he added with a grin.
‘Well, what then?’ I got up to fill my glass, weaving around everybody. ‘Anyone else want one?’ I wiggled my glass in the air.
Everyone agreed except Ayshe.
I filled a couple of glasses that were left over from the champagne the night before, and just after I’d refilled mine, I noticed a newspaper on the room service trolley, sandwiched in between the empty plates. The headline read: President to Open Apricot Festival.
I grabbed the paper and read it, my eyes devouring the information with heightened interest. The article mentioned various apricot facts – they’ve been around for four thousand years; astronauts ate them on the Apollo moon mission; they’re related to peaches – and ended with details of the annual three-day festival to celebrate the abundant Cypriot fruit.
‘Hey,’ I cried out to the others. ‘The President is opening the annual apricot festival tomorrow night at six. Why don’t we try and talk to him there?’
‘What’s an apricot festival?’ Charlie shrieked. ‘Is it anything like the Gay Pride festivals but people have to be smeared in soggy apricots?’ His eyes lit up at the thought of that. ‘Kinky!’
‘They have lots of festivals here – apricots, olives, sheep. It’s just a celebration, really,’ Ayshe explained.
‘There will be stalls selling local produce and wares, traditional dancing and singing, little restaurants set up – that kind of thing,’ Kalem added.
‘Oh, so not quite Gay Pride then.’ Charlie looked a tad disappointed. ‘Still, I think it’s a fab idea trying to speak to him there. What have you got to lose?’
‘I don’t know if we can get close enough to have a conversation with him. But I suppose it’s worth a try,’ Kalem said.
Ayshe nodded. ‘I agree. It sounds like a good plan.’
‘I can’t think of anything else you can do,’ Atila said.
‘Right. So we can’t do anything until tomorrow evening. It’s only five days until the wedding, and I’m not confident that I’m ever going to get my wedding dress back in time at this rate. I still need to look for a replacement one, just in case. And that means I need to get back out there and go shopping.’
‘No,’ Charlie said. ‘I’m the wedding planner. Leave it to me. I’ll go out and do some research. I know the kind of things you like. If I find any possible dresses, I’ll let you know, and you can come and have a look. You need to try and relax before the big day.’ He smiled at me. ‘Capiche or not capiche?’
I managed to raise a slight smile. ‘Capiche.’
‘Anything else you need me to do?’ Charlie asked.
‘Have you managed to find a CD with Love Me Tender on it yet?’ I said.
Charlie nodded. ‘Yes. Well, it’s not actually a CD. It’s on tape.’
‘Tape?’ Atila looked shocked. ‘Do people actually still use tapes?’
‘I was talking to the really helpful lady on reception, and she said she’s got a copy of some of Elvis’s greatest hits on tape and Love Me Tender is on there. So, no need to panic anymore. Anything else you want me to do?’
‘No, thanks,’ I said.
‘Right. In that case, I’ll scoot off and get started on the wedding dresses. No French Fancies and no meringues.’ Charlie ticked off the list on his finger. ‘Check.’
‘Do you want to relax by the pool or go and look at Mum and Dad’s house?’ Kalem asked.
Hmm. Difficult question. On the one hand, I wanted to laze around, drinking cocktails in the swim-up bar, pretending that I was having a normal, pampering pre-wedding couple of days. On the other hand, I was excited to see the house that we’d be living in after the wedding unti
l we found our own place. Yasmin had actually been born in the house, so it had been in her family a long time, although in recent years they hadn’t used it much as a holiday home.
‘Ayshe and I haven’t actually been out to stay there since we were about ten,’ Kalem said. ‘And the last time Mum and Dad stayed there was a couple of years ago. So it might need quite a bit of cleaning and tidying up.’
I suspected it would need more than a bit after all that time of being uninhabitated. ‘Maybe it would be a good idea to see the house – ooh! And I want to go and have a look at Bellapais Abbey as well. It looks a fantastic wedding venue from the pictures, but I want to make sure it’s as nice in real life. And let’s do some exploring. I want to check out the amenities here.’
‘You mean more shops?’ Kalem shot me a knowing look.
‘Well…not just the shops. What about supermarkets? I need to know where to get food. Food is important, isn’t it?’
‘We don’t need supermarkets. We’ll be living off the land. We can plant lots of fruit trees to sustain us. We could even have a couple of chickens and stuff.’ Kalem’s eyes lit up at the thought of getting back to nature.
I had a vision of The Good Life again. Me in wellies, with one arm up a cow’s backside – like I’d recently watched on a vet documentary – and not a spikey-heeled boot in sight. Yuck. Horrible thought. ‘Er…maybe we should check them out anyway. I mean, do they have a Finest Range here? And what about custard creams? I need to know where to find them if I’m going to survive.’
‘OK, let’s explore and check out the local custard cream spots.’ Kalem gave me an amused smile.
‘Atila and I had better stay here in case Mum and Dad need anything, or they take a turn for the worse,’ Ayshe said.
‘OK, we’ll just go and say hi to them and find out how they’re doing before we go.’ Kalem pushed the food trolley into the hallway.
I grabbed my handbag and herded Atila and Ayshe out.
A red Do not disturb sign hung on the outside of Deniz and Yasmin’s door, and a note had been left on the floor in front.
Ayshe picked it up. ‘This is Dad’s handwriting. It’s addressed to the maid.’ She read through it, her eyebrows furrowing.
