Reap the Wind

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Reap the Wind Page 28

by Iris Johansen


  “I’m sure a man as brilliant as you had no trouble coming up with the answer.”

  He ignored her mockery. “I began to monitor incoming information from the field to find an ace. Not only the projects that concerned me but the ones that were reported directly to McMillan. It took me six months and then I got lucky. I began to see threads of information that began to form a pattern. McMillan’s big coup. The one that was going to set him up for life.” He looked up and smiled at Caitlin. “You weren’t far wrong. It is drug money in most of my bank accounts in Switzerland. But I didn’t deal drugs, I stole the money.”

  “From a drug dealer?”

  He shook his head. “From McMillan . . . and Ysborski.”

  “Ysborski?”

  “A colonel in the KGB. That was one of the threads that kept reappearing. Both the CIA and KGB were zeroing in on a plot involving a Venezuelan drug kingpin, one Manuel Salazar. Salazar planned to overthrow the government of Venezuela and take control himself. Now, taking over a country is a very expensive proposition.”

  “How expensive?”

  “Five hundred million dollars. To be paid to various Venezuelan officials and army officers who would stage a minor revolution and then discreetly hand over the reins to Salazar’s puppets.” He smiled. “Both McMillan and Ysborski thought it was their patriotic duty to deprive Salazar of the means to become a dictator, and they couldn’t see why the confiscated money shouldn’t go into their own pockets instead of being lost somewhere in the judicial process. So McMillan and Ysborski came to an agreement to work together toward a common end. As soon as they found out where the money was to be transferred, they’d step in and grab it for themselves. Fifty-fifty split.”

  “And you stepped in first?”

  He shook his head. “That wouldn’t have served my purpose. I had no desire to have Salazar after me, so I waited until McMillan and Ysborski stole the money from Salazar. I must admit they handled the theft very cleverly and got away clean. Then Pavel and I stole the money from them.” He smiled. “And headed for Switzerland.”

  “Why didn’t they go after you?”

  “Because when I left Langley I took all the various bits of documented information I’d used to put together my puzzle, along with my analysis of those facts. I photocopied the lot thirty-two times and put the copies in safety deposit boxes scattered in several countries around the world with instructions that upon my death or disappearance they be immediately sent to various newspapers and politicians in both the U.S. and the Soviet Union.” He smiled crookedly. “I also addressed one very detailed letter to Manuel Salazar.”

  “Very clever. They had to protect you or be ruined or murdered by Salazar.”

  “Or by their own people who didn’t want the reputation of their respective organizations compromised.”

  “A plot worthy of you, Alex. Did you enjoy having all those men dancing on your string?”

  “I did enjoy it, as a matter of fact. Did you expect me to deny it? They used me. The KGB used me. The CIA used me. I can’t remember a time when someone hasn’t used me to get what he wanted.”

  “Poor Alex.”

  He drew a deep breath and said quietly, “I’m not asking for sympathy. I just want you to understand. In my world everybody used everybody else. I opted out of that world, but then Pavel—he was my friend, dammit.”

  “So you used me to avenge him.”

  “You weren’t supposed to be hurt.”

  “But you would have done it even if you knew I would have been hurt.”

  He didn’t answer for a moment. “When it all started, I didn’t care who got hurt as long as I got Ledford. Is that what you want to hear?”

  She suddenly knew that wasn’t what she had wanted him to say. She hadn’t wanted him to be honest with her. She had wanted him to make weak excuses, to be less than the man she had known all these months. She had wanted fuel for maintaining scorn and anger. She felt a sudden sense of panic. Why was it necessary to fuel her anger? She quickly lowered her gaze. “That’s what I want to hear.”

  “Then I admit it. You always knew that, Caitlin.”

  She had known that about Alex and been swept away by him anyway. The reminder caused her uneasiness to escalate. “As I said, you had me blind and dizzy. I don’t remember what I knew or didn’t know about you.” She put her cup down. “What have you found out since you’ve been here? Is Ledford in Istanbul?”

  “Kemal’s man at the airport says there’s been no sign of him.”

  “What about the supplier you told me about on the way from the airport?”

  “The Gypsy?” Alex shook his head. “We’ve been in contact with one of his front men, Adnan Irmak, but Kemal said he dropped out of sight last night after I paid him a visit. Kemal hasn’t been able to find out where he went.”

  “Then what can we do?”

  “I’m waiting for a call from Kemal now.”

  “Maybe Ledford won’t come back here if he knows you’re looking for him.”

  “I’ve got a hunch he will.”

  “You operate on hunches? What about your much-lauded ‘talent’?”

  “I’ve never known how it works. Part of it is pure analysis and projection. The other part . . . who knows? Ever since I found out about Ledford’s house I’ve had a feeling it should mean something to me.”

  “Do we take turns watching the house?”

  “No, I’d certainly be recognized, and you might be too. Kemal has arranged for one of his cohorts to do it.”

  “When am I going to meet this Kemal? You said—”

  Caitlin broke off as the phone on the end table shrilled.

  Alex answered it. “Hello.” He listened for a moment. “I’ve got it. Eleven o’clock.” He returned the receiver to its cradle. “Kemal. He asked me to meet him tonight. He’s going to try to find out where Irmak’s hiding.”

  “Hiding?”

  “Irmak was supposed to contact me today at the hotel about the whereabouts of the Gypsy, but he didn’t do it.” Alex smiled faintly. “Irmak obviously has no desire to meet with me again. Kemal says there were two bodyguards lurking outside his yali on the Bosporus. I’m afraid I lost patience with him during our last encounter.”

  Caitlin felt a chill as she saw his expression. She had told him she wanted to know him, but she wasn’t certain she wanted to know this Alex Karazov. “Where are you going to meet Kemal?”

  “We’re going to the club Irmak owns and see if he shows or Kemal can dig out any information.”

  “Then I’m going with you.”

  “I thought you would. I don’t suppose it would do any good to tell you it’s not a place in which you’ll feel in the least comfortable?”

  “No good at all.”

  He smiled curiously. “Then I wouldn’t think of keeping you from going along: Wear something dark, high-necked, and conservative.” He picked up both cups and saucers and went into the tiny kitchenette, saying, “And don’t blame me if you don’t like the floor show.”

  “Kafas?” Caitlin asked, reading the name scrawled in gold on the brass-bound mahogany doors.

  “It means ‘golden cage’ in Turkish.” Alex knocked and the door was opened by a tall, bearded man dressed in flowing red robes and a white turban. Alex murmured something to him in Turkish and the man allowed them to enter into a mosaic-tiled anteroom. Another identically garbed man held a white robe for Alex to slip on. Both men ignored Caitlin as they bowed to Alex and gestured to a keyhole-shaped entrance to the left. Alex grasped Caitlin’s elbow and propelled her toward the door. “Actually, the name’s surprisingly fitting.”

  As they entered the club they were immediately assaulted by the odor of sweet smoke and strong coffee. “It doesn’t look very golden to me.” Caitlin’s gaze wandered around the large room. The only golden touch was the soft, diffused glow lighting the panels of the high-arched ceiling. The room resembled a stadium more than a cage. The patrons’ low tables and enormous satin cushions were
located on six levels, looking down at a circular arena occupied by turbaned musicians playing exotic stringed instruments, bells, and drums. Waiters dressed in scarlet robes bearing trays with drinks and pastries hurried up and down the three flights of stairs bridging the six levels. No women, she noticed suddenly. The place was filled to capacity with men wearing robes like the one the doorman had given Alex, but she was the only woman in the room. “And that sweetish smell could mean big trouble here in Istanbul.”

  “You must have seen Midnight Express. Turkey’s no tougher on drug users than a lot of other countries.”

  “I don’t particularly want to do any comparison shopping.”

  “Don’t worry, the Golden Cage is protected.”

  “By whom?”

  “Someone very high in the government, I understand. It’s never safe to inquire too closely into these things.” Alex seated her on the cushions of a small low table close to the door. “However, I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about a raid.”

  “I’m the only woman here.”

  “You won’t be thrown out. This club caters to men but occasionally a woman is brought here.”

  “What did you say to the man who let us in?”

  “The password Kemal gave me. You have to know the password or be a guest of a regular patron to be allowed in.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “Once. Years ago.” Alex motioned and one of the waiters hurried toward them up the stairs. “This place was designed to appeal to men who have a sultan complex. It’s best that you keep a low profile.”

  “I wasn’t about to get up and do a belly dance.”

  He must have noticed the edginess of her tone, because he turned to study her expression. “You’re nervous. I told you that it wasn’t a place for you.”

  “I’m not nervous. I’m merely—” She stopped. “So I’m nervous. I’ll get over it.”

  Alex turned to the waiter now at his elbow and spoke rapidly in Turkish. The man nodded and a moment later disappeared into the crowd. “I told him to send Kemal here when he comes in and I ordered coffee.”

  She looked back at him. “You speak Turkish.”

  “How suspicious you sound. I visited Istanbul many times when I was with the KGB. I like it here. As I said, it’s a city where rules can be bent. I’ve never liked rules.”

  She knew Alex hated rules. When he couldn’t break them, he found a way of going around them. She had once found that lawlessness exciting. She quickly looked down at the copper brazier on the table. “Why is it fitting that this place is called the Golden Cage?”

  “It’s a historical term. It’s named after an apartment in the Topkapi Palace that was once called the Golden Cage.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the reigning sultan’s brothers were held captive there for their entire lives and never permitted to leave.”

  Her gaze shifted to his face. “How terrible.”

  Alex nodded. “It was to protect the reigning sultan from assassination. Not pleasant but better than being slaughtered. They were occasionally allowed concubines, but only after the women had their uteruses cut out so that they could no longer bear children.”

  Caitlin shivered. “I don’t see why anyone would want to name a place after a prison, golden or not.”

  Alex smiled faintly. “Because the princes were only occasionally allowed women. Now, what do you suppose healthy, sexually active males would do in circumstances like that?”

  “This is a gay bar?”

  “To be exact, it’s AC/DC. I understand from Kemal that Irmak is homosexual, which is probably one of the reasons the Gypsy uses him as a front man to deal with Ledford. The Kafas is one of the most famous sex clubs in the world and would have attracted Ledford and—”

  “Ah, you’ve brought a lady. I approve. There’s nothing like combining business with pleasure.”

  Caitlin stared up at the startlingly handsome young man who had just spoken. He was dressed in the same white robe as the rest of the customers, but wore his with a verve and dash lacking in any of the others.

  “Kemal Nemid. Caitlin Vasaro,” Alex said.

  Kemal Nemid dropped down onto the cushion next to Caitlin and addressed Alex. “I haven’t been able to make contact yet. They keep the door to the Harem locked until after the show begins.” Kemal gracefully crossed his legs tailor fashion and immediately took on the persona of a royal caliph perched on his satin cushion. He turned to Caitlin. “What a pretty lady you are.” He took her hand and raised it to his lips like a courtier of old. “I’m honored to meet you. May I tell you what gorgeous breasts you have?”

  Caitlin blinked. “Thank you.”

  “Like lovely, jutting mountains.” He reproachfully eyed the high neck of her black dress. “You should not cover them up like that. Do you like me?”

  She glanced in confusion at Alex. He only shrugged and she looked back at Kemal. “I . . . don’t know you.”

  “But you like what you see?”

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “Then perhaps you could participate with me as well as Alex.”

  “Kemal,” Alex said softly.

  Kemal sighed. “She is here because of Ledford and not to participate?”

  Alex nodded.

  Kemal shook his head mournfully. “It would be very enjoyable if she were to participate. I do love big breasts. Psychological. I lost my mother when I was so young.”

  “Pardon me, Monsieur Nemid, but what—”

  “Kemal. Call me Kemal. Even if we cannot perform together, we are going to be fast friends. I can tell. I have second sight, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know.” Caitlin was having difficulty smothering a smile. The boy was both outrageous and irresistible.

  “And if you decide to participate, I’m at your service.”

  It was the second time he had mentioned participating. “What is it I’m supposed to participate in?”

  Kemal looked at Alex inquiringly.

  “By all means, tell her,” Alex said.

  Kemal frowned as he turned back to Caitlin. “Alex should have been the one to tell you. It’s too late for you to leave now. No one can leave or be admitted to the Golden Cage after eleven.”

  “She wanted to come,” Alex said.

  Kemal’s gaze searched Alex’s expression. “And for some reason, you wanted her to see it. You want her in the Harem?”

  “We’re here to find Irmak. The Harem is out of the question at the moment.”

  Kemal lifted a brow. “Yet you know what seeing it will do to her. It’s not fair of you to—”

  “I’m getting very tired of being ignored,” Caitlin said forcefully.

  “Forgive me.” Kemal smiled at Caitlin. “It’s rude of us. You must stay for the show now. The Cage’s doors are locked. It’s tradition, but no harm will come to you.”

  “Tradition?”

  “Every night there’s a reenactment of the debauchery at Topkapi.” He squeezed her hand comfortingly. “That’s why I thought Alex might have brought you. If a patron wishes to participate, he may do so.”

  “Naturally,” Caitlin said faintly. “You’re talking about a sex show. Right?”

  Kemal nodded. “But not the usual show you would see in Paris. Except for a few women brought over from the Harem, these are volunteers who wish to exhibit themselves. You’ll find it very stimulating.”

  A gong sounded and the lights were suddenly dimmed.

  Caitlin’s heart jumped to her throat as she looked down at the arena. All the musicians with the exception of the man playing the drum had left the center of the room, and three scarlet-cushioned couches had been positioned at intervals in the clearing. Merde, she was no child. There was no reason for her to be this nervous.

  “You need not look.” Kemal released her hand and rose. “If you can keep yourself from it. I never can, but then, I’m a sensualist. I’ll see you both after the show. I’m going to see if I can get through to
the Harem when they bring in the women.” He started down the stairs toward the clearing in the center of the room.

  The drum began to echo like a rhythmic heartbeat through the room. The darkness changed to rosy twilight as two men came on the stage. Both men were young, athletic-looking, beautiful, and completely nude.

  The show went on for over an hour and featured not only homosexual but heterosexual couplings. The men and women were all young and attractive and there was no question of their enthusiasm. During the entire time Caitlin found herself fascinated, attracted, repelled, and yet helpless to turn away. It was sex and yet not sex, a sensual ballet, a feverish dream. No sound disturbed the fantasy, the men at the tables were silent in the darkness, the air charged with awareness.

  She tried not to look at Alex, but she felt his gaze on her several times during the performance and she could not keep herself from glancing at him.

  He smiled faintly as he caught and interpreted her expression. “Arousing?” His voice was low, almost guttural, with the Slavic intonation with which she had become so familiar when they had been involved in the same activities being performed before them.

  “Yes.” Caitlin swallowed and glanced away. He knew her responses too well for her to deny it. She could still feel Alex’s gaze on her face but avoided looking at him again. “I wish Kemal would come back.”

  “Soon,” Alex said. “The show will end in about ten minutes.”

  It couldn’t be too soon. Her grasp tightened on her tulip-shaped glass of coffee on the table before her. Her heart was slamming frantically against her rib cage. “What is this Harem you and Kemal were talking about? Another part of the legend?”

  Alex nodded. “The golden cage at Topkapi was across from the harem.” Alex nodded at a door adjoining the stage. “That door leads to the apartments occupied by the men and women of the Harem. It’s actually a bordello, but no one can enter it except through the Kafas. The patrons watch the show and then go on to the bordello. There are also several empty apartments that can be rented for the hour or the night.”

 

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