Arabesk

by Barbara Nadel

  'Did you take him home or did you go back to his place?' Ìkmen inquired. 'It's important we know.'

  A moment of stony silence passed during which Adnan Öz looked around the squalid room for something upon which to pin his attention.

  'He took me down a side street to a shop doorway,' Tansu said softly. 'I pulled up my skirt. ..'

  'You had sex in the street'

  She shrugged. 'It's not something that I do every day but when I first came to this city I did things like it from time to time, to survive.' She smiled. 'For just a moment it was almost like being young again.'

  Suleyman sighed. 'And afterwards?'

  The smile still on her lips, she said, 'Afterwards he left as men always do and I went home. I drove with a lot of alcohol in my body, I freely admit but I did nothing else. I didn't murder anyone.'

  Ìkmen nodded gravely as he looked at Suleyman and a few moments of silence passed as everyone in the room absorbed Tansu's story. Then picking up his pen from the table, Suleyman jotted down a few notes on the piece of paper in front of him. 'So,' he said, 'you're saying you went to an unnamed bar where you met a boy whose name you don't know.'

  'Yes.'

  'Did you tell any member of your family you were going to go and do this?'

  She threw him a distincdy acid look. 'What do you think? I told my sister afterwards, in the morning. I felt so guilty that I had betrayed Erol, I had to tell someone.'

  'Your story is not going to be easy to substantiate, Miss Emin,' Suleyman said gravely.

  'Ah, but I am sure that with a little research ...’ Adnan Öz began.

  'Assuming Miss Emin is telling the truth.'

  ‘I fucking am!'

  The re-emergence of this rather more familiar incarnation of Tansu Hanim made Ìkmen, at least, smile. The part she had been playing of the softly contrite, damaged woman had suddenly slipped and although he accepted that this was not in itself a sign of guilt, it was far more a part of her real character than any other facet she had shown them here. But what of her story? Although all of Tansu's movements and associations on that fateful night were effectively, and some would say conveniently, anonymous, she might well be telling the truth. She was, after all, a very unhappy middle-aged woman who was besotted by a much younger, married man. Why shouldn't she have a quick fuck up against a wall if she could get one? The only real connection that could be made between Tansu and the scene of the crime was a few stray strands of fur - not an uncommon item in the wardrobes of Istanbul ladies (excepting Fatma, of course). And Cengiz Temiz had not managed to identify her from her photograph. But then

  Ah. Ìkmen smiled still more broadly. Yes, now that was a thought, wasn't it? And most especially it was a thought that Tansu herself had inspired.

  'May I have a word with you outside, please, Inspector?' he said to Suleyman.

  Two uniformed officers sat with Tansu and her lawyer while Ìkmen and Suleyman repaired to another room which appeared to be empty but in fact contained a rather heavily smoking Ìsak Çöktin. Standing as his superiors entered, Çöktin looked unusually tense, leading Suleyman to wonder whether he had been overly severe with him. Not, of course, that he said as much.

  'Ah, Çöktin,' he said. 'How did you get on at the Forensic Institute?'

  'I found out that cyanide is used in the steel industry.' He took his notebook out of his pocket and read,

  'Hydrocyanic acid, it's called. You can also distil cyanide from the stone of some fruits, but you do need special equipment'

  ‘I presume laboratory equipment or that used in the production of liquor,' Suleyman said as he gave Ìkmen a cigarette and lit up himself.

  'Yes.' Çöktin perused his book for a little longer and then said, 'Domestically it's used to kill pests mainly. Rats and wasps, things like that'

  'Mmm.' Suleyman looked up at Ìkmen. 'Bellas said that the Emin family have a gardener, didn't she?'

  'Yes. Why?'

  'I seem to recall something about wasps. Anyway, you wanted to talk to me, Çetin?'

  Ìkmen looked first, briefly, at Cektin and then back at Suleyman.

  'Ah,' Suleyman said, understanding immediately, 'yes. Çöktin, could you write me a full report on your researches at the institute, please? It may prove useful in time. Oh, and you might like to ask Miss Latife Emin the name of her gardener too. You'll find her outside with Tansu Hanim's manager and, I think, her brother.'

  'Yes, sir.'

  He left in the same manner as they had found him, miserably contemplating something other than the task at hand, Ìkmen and Suleyman, with some concern, watched him go.

  When Çöktin had shut the door behind him, Ìkmen observed, 'He's very unhappy; isn't he?'

  'Yes.' Suleyman sighed 'My little speech about not getting too close to Urfa did not go down very well.' 'Mmm.'

  'Anyway, I don't suppose Çöktin was what you wanted to talk to me about, was it? Unless you're still chasing peacocks . ..'

  'Do not mock!' Ìkmen said and held one warning finger aloft. 'They are still foremost in my mind, as I imagine gardeners are in yours. But no, that was not why I needed to speak to you.'

  'So?'

  Ìkmen sat down on one of the less greasy-looking chairs. 'It was Tansu herself who gave me the idea. She admitted she doesn't look much like her photographs. And. in view of the fact that Cengiz Temiz has only ever seen a photograph of her and not the woman in the flesh

  Suleyman's eyes shone. 'You thought. . .'

  'Exactly. If we could engineer a sighting for him -I assume he's still somewhere in the building.'

  'Yes. Yes he is.' Suleyman joined Ìkmen on the chairs. 'And of course you're right.'

  ‘I can see no other way of quickly either proving or disproving Tansu's story about a drunken fuck up against a wall.'

  Suleyman smiled. In spite of all his bluster, Ìkmen was about the most solid family man he knew. And although he had over the years dealt with much that was either distasteful or bizarre in the sexual arena, he still disapproved of both unfaithfulness and deception.

  'I was thinking’ Ìkmen said, 'of something along the lines of escorting Tansu out of the building via the back entrance.'

  'Past the cells.'

  'Yes.' He smiled. 'And we could move Mr Temiz to rather more sanitary accommodation at the same time.'

  'Yes.' Suleyman bit down thoughtfully on his lower lip. 'And if he doesn't ID her?'

  'Then she must have been fucking instead of killing’ Ìkmen said with a shrug. 'But let us meet that eventuality if it arises’

  'All right’ With a sudden rush of energy, Suleyman got to his feet. 'Come on, then’ he said, 'let's get on with it’

  'You go ahead.' Ìkmen nodded towards the door. 'I'd better phone home and tell Fatma what I'm doing’

  'Oh, yes’ Suleyman said. He reached the door and turned. 'You really should be there, shouldn't you?'

  'Yes’ Ìkmen replied tartly, 'but I'm not, and so there it is.'

  Quickly, before he lost his nerve, Ìkmen punched his home number into the telephone and then waited for that familiar, angry voice.

  Erol Urfa paced restlessly back and forth across the floor of his living room. Just looking at him made

  Ibrahim Aksoy, who had taken refuge in a large bottle of raki some hours before, feel dizzy.

  'I don't know why you don't just settle for a bit,' the manager said from inside his anise-tinged haze. 'Ferhat Göktepe said that he'd call as soon as there was any news.'

  'I should be there with her,' Erol said vehemently. 'I should go now!'

  'Oh, and take Merih into a stinking police station, that's a good idea!' Aksoy said acidly.

  'If you would look after her .... .'

  'Now, you know I can't do that, Erol,'.Aksoy said as he poured himself yet another draught of the oily, transparent liquid. 'I can't possibly do all that stuff with the feeding and then the, er, the toilet business. And anyway, I'm really quite drunk. You know I'd gladly lay down my life for you but...'
/>
  'Ibrahim, she didn't do it!' Erol raked one shaking hand through the thickness of his hair. 'Tansu did not kill my wife!'

  'You don't know that, Erol.'

  ‘I do!' .

  'Oh, so who did kill her then?' Aksoy's face, though drunk, was. full of challenge.

  Erol flung both arms into the air in a gesture of hopelessness. ‘I don't know!' he said.

  'Right,' Aksoy replied. 'You don't know, so it could be anybody, including Tansu. I mean, with Ruya out of the way, she probably thought that you might marry her.' Then under his breath he muttered, 'Silly old...'

  'But if that is the case, it is I who have brought Tansu to this trouble and it is also I who, indirectly, have killed my own wife and unborn child!'

  'Nonsense!'

  Erol put his hands up to his face and then sat down beside his manager. Although it was hot, he knew that the palms of his hands were sweating far more than they usually did. He also knew, or rather felt, that perhaps now was the time to confess to those most close to him - in this case, Ibrahim Aksoy.

  'Ibrahim,' he began and then faltered. 'Ibrahim, much as I may wish to marry Tansu, that can never be.'

  'Well, of course not, she's old enough to be your mother!'

  'Yes, but that is not the reason why I cannot marry her.'

  Aksoy peered out from deep inside his alcoholic mist and leered. 'Oh, is there another—'

  'No!' Erol put his head down and stared at the rug on the floor. He would need to look at something while he said this, something other than Ibrahim's face. Since coming to the city, there was only one other person he had told his secret to and that was because that person had known - it was a secret they shared.

  'Ibrahim,' he said slowly, 'I am not the man you think I am.' Then looking up sharply into that raki-sodden face, he added, 'Everything you think you know about me is a complete and utter lie.'

  Sergeant Orhan Tepe was given the task of moving Cengiz Temiz from his current abode to another cell a few metres away. Why Inspector Suleyman wanted this done, he didn't know; in all likelihood Temiz would be released within twenty-four hours and so, to Tepe, it all seemed a bit pointless. However, something had to be up on account of the fact that the inspector had told him to watch Temiz very closely during the next few minutes. He didn't know what he was supposed to be looking for or why, although he did gain an inkling when he saw the inspector, Tansu Hanim, someone who could be one of her brothers, and her lawyer, Mr Öz, walking down the corridor towards Temiz and himself. Behind, at some distance, he could just make out the slight form of old Inspector Ìkmen.

  'Well, Cengiz,' Tepe said into Temiz's large, red-tinged ear, 'here is a little present for you. A real life superstar.’ In order to direct Cengiz's eyes to the star, he waved one hand in Tansu's direction. 'Look, there.'

  The first indication that something was seriously amiss came in the form of a sharp intake of breath. Cengiz gasped and then, looking up at Tepe, the officer immediately noticed the fear that had suddenly settled in his eyes.

  'Cengiz

  Still fixated on Tepe's face, Cengiz Temiz simply whimpered.

  'It's only a lady, Cengiz,' and then physically turning the man's head to watch the progress of the party toward them, Tepe said, 'Nothing to be frightened of.'

  With small but obviously terrified noises of protest, Cengiz tried to resist Tepe's hand, but without success. For a moment he simply stood looking at Tansu with an expression of frozen horror on his face. At this point, Tepe observed, Suleyman turned round and looked at Ìkmen.

  But then suddenly there was a change. At first Tepe felt this rather than saw it for it came in the form of a slackening that shot through the whole of Cengiz's body like an arrow. Initially, imagining that his charge was about to faint, Tepe moved closer to him in order to offer some sort of support. When Cengiz didn't fall, he turned to look at him again. What he found was a very winning, if child-like, smile upon his face. And as Tansu, Suleyman and party passed by without a word or a look, Cengiz made several small grunts and gestures of approval.

  'Cengiz...'

  ‘I thought it was her, but it isn't,' he said and giggled with what might have been mirth or relief or both. 'It isn't who, Cengiz?'

  'The demon who killed Mrs Ruya,' he said in a voice that boomed towards the rafters with glee. 'That lady isn't her!'

  'You thought it might have been?'

  The party heading for the back entrance had stopped now. Slowly, her eyes full of a furious malevolence, Tansu Hanim was turning to face Suleyman.

  'You . . .' she began.

  'I had to see whether or not he would identify you,' Suleyman said, adding quickly, 'and he has not.'

  'That man is—' But then she stopped and for just one frozen, monstrous moment she watched as Cengiz Temiz did what, at first sight, could have been an ungainly dance.

  'The demon walked like this, you see,' Cengiz said as he tottered backwards and forwards on Tepe's arm, with what looked like a very pronounced limp. 'White hair like the lady but,' he teetered back and forth once again, giggling, 'like this!'

  'Allah!' Although said under her breath, Tansu's exhortation to divine intervention, coupled with the whitness of her face and the shakiness of her hands, caused Ìkmen to look at her sharply. She gave every appearance, he thought, of one who has just woken from a beautiful dream only to discover reality. It was one of those moments when a person involuntarily gives others fleeting access to the raw core of his or her being. But, as ever with things psychological, unless one could interpret such a moment, its true meaning could not be ascertained. And as the door to Tansu's soul closed and she regained her composure, Ìkmen realised that he hadn't a clue about what he had just seen.

  'Get me out of this stinking pit, will you, Adnan?' she said as she took hold of her lawyer's arm and began to walk forwards. 'I want to see my manager and my sister.'

  "They're waiting with your car,' the lawyer soothed, 'ready to take you home, away from all this hideousness.'

  'We had to do this, madam,' Suleyman began.

  'You will be hearing from me in due course,' Adnan Öz said with a slight bow. 'You can't trick people like Tansu Hanim and expect to get away with it.'

  Suleyman indicated that Tepe should put Cengiz Temiz, who now appeared to be disturbed by what was going on, into his new cell. Then turning once again to Adnan Öz he said, 'I look forward to hearing from you, sir.'

  Dutifully holding the door open for Tansu, her lawyer and Yilmaz Emin to pass through, Ìkmen bowed to them politely as they left. The fact that Tansu averted her eyes when he looked at her could just have been bad manners, but it could also have been because she didn't want him to know that she was crying.

  Once they had gone, Ìkmen shut the door and looked across at Suleyman who was now slumped against the wall with his head in his hands. Tepe, for his part, had settled Cengiz Temiz into his cell and had just come back out into the corridor when Ìkmen said, 'Don't lock up yet, Tepe. I need a moment with Mr Temiz.'

  'Oh, right' Tepe stood to one side while Ìkmen entered the cell. Suleyman, who had come back to himself somewhat as Ìkmen spoke, was right behind him.

  The overweight, unwashed heap on the edge of what passed for a bed in that terrible place rolled his eyes as Ìkmen approached him.

  'You had a bit of a fright there, didn't you?' Ìkmen said with a smile.

  'Who are you? Have you got a cigarette?'

  'My name is Çetin,' Ìkmen said as he took a cigarette out of his packet and handed it to Cengiz.

  'Can I have a light too?'

  'Yes.'

  Ìkmen handed over his lighter and Cengiz lit up. For a few moments he puffed contentedly before saying, 'Mr Avedykian said I don't have to talk to him any more.'

  'Who?' Ìkmen asked.

  Cengiz pointed rudely towards Suleyman.

  'Oh.'

  Suleyman duly turned away and walked towards the far corner of the cell.

  Ìkmen smiled. 'But you can talk
to me though, can't you?'

  Cengiz didn't answer, seemingly absorbed in his cigarette. 'Cengiz?'

  'What?'

  Ìkmen held out his almost full packet of cigarettes to Cengiz and smiled. 'Listen, Cengiz,' he said, 'if I give you this packet of cigarettes, will you answer just one question for me?'

  For a few moments Cengiz looked from the packet of cigarettes to Ìkmen's face and then back again. He licked his lips as if just the look of the cigarettes was making him drool with anticipation.

  'You can keep the lighter too,' Ìkmen offered.

  A small grunt-like noise seemed to indicate that Cengiz had consented to this. It was enough for Ìkmen.

  'OK, Cengiz,' he said, 'why didn't you tell Inspector Suleyman that the devil woman, or whatever you call her, walked with a limp? Can you tell me that?'

  Cengiz's eyes narrowed and he put his hand out for the cigarettes.

  'Not until you answer my question,' Ìkmen said, putting the pack back into his pocket. 'Well?'

  Cengiz, pouting a little now, shrugged. 'He never asked me.'

  'He never asked you what, Cengiz?'

  'Whether the lady had one leg smaller than the other leg.'

  Ìkmen took the cigarettes back out of his pocket again and held them up close to his face. 'But she did, is that what you are saying, Cengiz?'

  'Yes.' He made a quick grab for the cigarettes which Ìkmen foiled.

  'Ah, not yet!' he said. 'Not yet. So what you're saying is that the woman you saw just now looked like the woman who killed Mrs Ruya except that that woman had one leg which was shorter than the other. Is that right?'

  'Yes.'

  'Are you certain?' 'Yes!'

  Ìkmen handed the cigarettes over and then leaned back to watch as Cengiz Temiz secreted his precious haul within the considerable folds of his clothes. Turning to face Suleyman, Ìkmen said, 'Latife Emin does look remarkably like her sister, don't you think?'

  Chapter 14

  'Latife Emin does not limp, nor does she have one leg noticeably shorter than the other!'

  'Ah, but have you really looked at her legs, Suleyman?' Ìkmen said. 'No, you have not!'