Deep State (The Acer Sansom Novels Book 4)

by Oliver Tidy

  Acer said, ‘You know for a fact that this deep state has engaged in these activities?’

  Zeynep nodded.

  Acer said, ‘Sorry to sound doubtful, but how can you be sure? How do you know it’s not urban myth here like it is elsewhere? Just something dreamt up by someone with a vivid imagination and a chip on the shoulder, something that has grown to be believed?’

  Zeynep said, ‘Because my family is part of it. I’ve overheard conversations. I’ve made it my business to find out things. I‘ve seen the results of things that I knew were going to happen before they did.’

  Acer whistled quietly. ‘All just to protect the status quo of a secularist society?’

  Zeynep said, ‘I said that was its primary purpose. Deep state also has a secondary purpose: to improve the personal wealth and positions in society of its members. They also have to protect each other. And they do. Members of deep state are fanatically loyal to each other. Sanctions for anyone who breaks their codes of practice are severe.’ In answer to Acer’s look, she said, ‘I know. Incredible, isn’t it?’

  Mo said, ‘That kind of thing has actually gone on here?’

  ‘It’s still going on.’

  Acer and Mo could only stare at her.

  In response to the looks they had for her, Zeynep said, ‘I’ve known about it for years.’

  Acer said, ‘How does your brother’s being a Muslim fit in with deep state?’

  ‘My brother is a hypocrite. Yes, he is a Muslim. He engages in outward displays of a pious Muslim and such behaviour gives him good cover in Turkish society. These behaviours might even do something for his conscience where his faith is concerned. But when it comes to choosing between personal gain and his faith, my brother will always be found with his nose in the trough rather than on his knees at the mosque. And he will make his peace with Allah at a time and place convenient to him. I hope Allah is waiting for him and that when his time comes, he gets what he deserves. He brings shame on good Muslims.’

  Acer said, ‘How does all this help us, Zeynep?’

  Zeynep put down her coffee cup and said, ‘Things have changed in recent years. They’re changing still. Political rivalries have intensified to the point where there has been significant upheaval in Turkish bureaucratic systems. The ruling party, which is a pro-Islamist party, has become very powerful. They’ve instigated purges through some clever political maneuvering of their own. Crucially for the ruling political party, they’ve weakened the military’s influence. They’ve weeded out members of the security forces, the media and the judiciary that were not sympathetic to them and replaced them with those who are. The deep state has been weakened. They don’t have the broader influence that they once did. I don’t think that they would be able to overthrow a government today. If they could, they would have done it by now in response to the growing threats Turkey faces to its secularist way of life and the threats to the continued existence of deep state.’

  Acer said, ‘I knew another Turkish woman – from my previous visit to Istanbul – who talked about the eroding of the secular society. She wasn’t happy about it either.’

  ‘They will have us all wearing headscarves. You’ll see. If the European Union had let Turkey join, I think things would have been different. But they didn’t. Even after stringing us along, dangling the carrot of membership under our noses. And we all know why: they don’t really want a nation of Muslims free to come and go as they please in northern Europe. They are essentially afraid of us. That just might turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy. They might come to regret their prejudice, their Western arrogance, when Turkey slides further and further towards the Middle Eastern Islamic way of life, their values and religious intolerance of everything Western. Europe is going to end up with an unhappy Muslim caliphate on its doorstep when it could have had a friendly Muslim buffer zone. And it will serve Europe right.’ Zeynep looked at them and smiled a little self-consciously. ‘Sorry. I can get carried away sometimes.’

  Acer said, ‘No problem. You’re probably right. You were saying about the changes in Turkey. How can they help us?’

  Zeynep said, ‘Right. The Turkish government has always been afraid of the existence of deep state. They take every opportunity to dissemble about it where they think it exists, to weaken it as an influential force, or rather the elements of what they think go to make up deep state. They don’t really know. They’re always working in the dark. But by steadily replacing people in power with those loyal to the ruling party, they are ensuring greater cooperation from Turkey’s key systems and organisations. They have made important examples of individuals whom they have come to suspect of antigovernment bias. That’s all it takes: a suspicion, a whisper, a hint of something that brings someone to their attention. And this lot cracks down. Hard. It’s part of what’s made them so powerful.

  ‘The threat of being exposed as incontrovertibly linked with deep state through physical evidence is something my brother would be very afraid of. Perhaps the only thing. My father, too, although he is too old and infirm to be a threat to anyone now. It is my brother who is running the family business and it is him we would have to focus our attention on.’

  Acer said, ‘You’re saying that this incontrovertible evidence exists?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that if we had it we could use it to get your sister, her children and my daughter away from your brother without risk of violence? And that we’d be able to go and live our lives in peace somewhere?’

  Zeynep was nodding her agreement.

  Mo said, ‘Well, that’s brilliant, isn’t it? For all of us?’

  Acer said, ‘Where is this proof?’

  Zeynep said, ‘That’s the difficult part.’

  ***

  18

  Zeynep said, ‘There was an investigative journalist. He worked for a small independent newspaper in Istanbul. He infiltrated deep state. He was believed to have accumulated a lot of highly sensitive and potentially damaging material before he was uncovered for what he was.’

  Mo said, ‘What happened to him?’

  ‘He was disappeared.’

  Acer said, ‘How do you know all this?’

  ‘Because it was my brother who had him killed. I overheard things. It was when I was living at home, on the island. The man was brought to Heybeliada. They tortured him for what he knew. He died on them.’

  ‘What happened to his evidence?’ said Acer.

  ‘My brother believed it was with his fiancée, a Syrian woman. When he was taken, she fled back to Syria.’

  ‘With it?’

  ‘I assume so.’

  ‘You don’t know?’

  ‘Not for certain. But that is what my brother believed. He tried to find her, to get the documentation from her. He didn’t succeed. I don’t know why.’

  ‘What makes you think we could?’ said Acer.

  Zeynep said, ‘You asked me for something incriminating – information that could prove highly damaging to my family if it were to come into the public domain. Something with a long shelf life. Something we could leave with someone as insurance. That’s it. It’s all I can think of.’

  Mo said, ‘Maybe there is another option?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘There is bound to be incriminating evidence on Heybeliada, isn’t there?’

  Zeynep shook her head. ‘I doubt it. If my brother was to be investigated, the authorities would take the house apart looking for evidence of his guilt, his membership of, or any connection with deep state. And if it was there, they would find it. I don’t think he would take that risk. And even if I thought that there was something there I still think we might have better luck trying to find the journalist’s woman. The security setup on the island would make it a suicide mission for anyone trying to get in when not invited.’

  They finished their coffees in a moment of silent contemplation.

  Acer said, ‘Do you know this woman’s name?’

  ‘I’m sure we could find i
t out from someone who knew the journalist at the paper. Maybe even where she was from.’

  Mo said, ‘Hang on. You said Syria? She went back to Syria?’ She was shaking her head. ‘We get the news in Canada too, you know. The whole place looks completely fucked up: no law and order, numerous fanatical armed groups doing exactly what they like. You’ve got ISIL beheading any foreigner it can get its hands on; a coalition of NATO forces carrying out strategic bombing raids on ISIL positions and let’s not forget the Russians. Who knows how long they’ll be sticking around to bomb the shit out of anything that takes their fancy? Tell me you’re not thinking of going there to find this woman on the off chance she has kept her dead fiancé’s old files.’

  Zeynep and Acer stared at each other for a long moment. Each searching the face and eyes of the other for confirmation of what they were thinking.

  Acer said, ‘If there is another way, another option for us to get your sister and the children off the island and for us all to be able to live our lives without fear of reprisals, I’d like to hear it.’

  Mo said, ‘Kill them. Kill your brother. Kill your father. That would put a stop to it.’

  Acer looked at Zeynep to see how she’d taken that suggestion.

  Zeynep said, ‘I’d rather not. I know that I came here angry enough to do just that. I came here with that intention. But. . . I would rather find another way if there is one.’

  Picking up on Zeynep’s understandable reluctance to murder her father and brother, Acer said, ‘And the chances of us being able pull off such a thing without casualty, without arrest and imprisonment, are slim to none. For a start, we don’t have any weapons. The old man probably never leaves the island. The house is like a fortress, with its own security force. And they are all armed.’

  Mo said, ‘And you think that going into war-torn Syria to look for someone whose name you don’t even know – let alone where in the ruin of a country she might be living, if she hasn’t been shot, arrested, blown up or displaced – is an easier option?’

  Acer smiled. He said, ‘The words rock and hard place spring to mind.’

  Zeynep looked at her partner and said, ‘It’s what we’re here for, Mo. Why we’ve just flown halfway round the world. To put a stop to our persecution. I’m tired of living in dread of who’s coming next. You’re tired of it, too, I know. You have to be. Perhaps this is our opportunity, our chance to put a stop to it. We have to try. And we have to try the least violent way first. If we can’t find her, if she hasn’t got the documents we need, if she won’t cooperate with us, then we’ll return to Istanbul and look at other options. ’

  Acer said, ‘I don’t think all three of us should go.’

  The women both looked at him to explain that.

  He said, ‘You’re right, Mo. It’s potentially very dangerous for us to go there. I have to go for my daughter. Zeynep has to go for her freedom. We’ve both got personal investment and reasons for going.’

  ‘So have I.’

  He said, ‘Three is going to be a crowd. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’d be a liability. We’re going to have a language problem. . .’

  ‘No, we’re not. I speak some Arabic,’ said Zeynep.

  Acer said, ‘That’s good.’ Turning back to Mo, he said, ‘Zeynep can pass for a Syrian woman. Your complexion is going to get you very interested second looks regularly until someone decides to make something of it. With a keffiyeh and sunglasses, I can pass if I keep my mouth shut, play dumb. Two people travelling together like that has its risks, but three is increasing the risk more than fivefold – and we don’t need to. Besides, we would need someone in a safe place so that if we got into trouble we could hope for help.’

  Mo said, ‘From who?’

  Acer smiled at them. ‘I have contacts in the British Intelligence services.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I did a job for them. It was off the books. They owe me. If we get into trouble, we’ll need someone who might be able to help. And someone who can liaise with them from here.’

  Acer was stretching the truth with a white lie. He would not be able to count on any help from Crouch if they got into trouble in Syria. They were going to be on their own. But he didn’t want Mo along. And he didn’t think she wanted to go. He wanted to give them all a good reason for her to stay behind.

  Zeynep seemed to pick up on Acer’s tack. She said, ‘He’s right, Mo. And this isn’t your fight. It’s his and it’s mine. I don’t want you in danger. If something terrible happened to you because of me, I’d never be able to live with it.’

  ‘And what about me? What if something happens to you out there?’

  Acer said, ‘That’s another good reason for you to stay here, Mo. If something happens to Zeynep then whoever is with her is screwed. No language for a big start. Can you imagine how long a Westerner like me would last on his own? How long would two of us last? If you watch the news then you know the atrocities some of these groups are capable of committing in whoever’s name is flavour of the week.’

  Acer could see in Mo’s lack of reaction that they were getting through to her, playing on her fears, simply making good sense, or a bit of both.

  Zeynep said, ‘We can use today to try and find out who the woman is, where she’s from, whatever we can about her. Maybe we’ll find out nothing. If we find out nothing, we won’t be going.’

  This seemed to placate Mo. She said, ‘Just because I’m not arguing with you doesn’t mean I’m happy about this.’

  Zeynep smiled at her. She reached across the table to lay her hand on her partner’s. In a gentler voice, she said, ‘I know. I also know that you’re not stupid. Despite your feelings for this, you know it makes sense for you to stay here. And I don’t want to be worrying about you. I shall have enough to concern myself with.’

  ***

  19

  They agreed to reconvene in Zeynep’s room.

  Zeynep had remembered the name of the newspaper and found an address and phone number for it. She said, ‘I don’t think that if we just turn up there asking questions anyone who might be able to help us is going to, do either of you?’

  Mo said, ‘Not likely.’

  Acer said, ‘I’ve had an idea that might help us with that. I have a good friend in London who works on a national newspaper. She’s a reporter. I can call her, get her to call the paper here in Istanbul. She can give us an introduction. Tell them what we want. Ask if they can help.’

  ‘What can she say to them?’ said Zeynep.

  Mo said, ‘She can tell them that there is a Canadian investigative reporter in town looking for a story on deep state in Turkey. She can say that I’ve heard about the guy who your family disappeared. And I’m trying to trace his fiancée. Sure, they won’t be able to tell me where she is, but we might get a name out of it. A city in Syria. Something.’

  Acer said, ‘It’s a good idea.’ It was. It would also help Mo to feel involved in the Istanbul end of their business, something she could be encouraged to accept.

  He used Kemal’s mobile to search the Internet for a number for Susan’s newspaper. He found someone there who knew him as a friend of hers and got her mobile number. Then he called her.

  ‘Good morning, Susan.’

  ‘Acer? About bloody time. Where the hell have you been? You promised me you’d call as soon as you got there.’

  ‘Sorry. I’ve been a bit busy.’

  ‘Same old evasive Acer,’ she said, but she didn’t sound cross about it. ‘Have you seen your daughter? Spoken to her? Have you got her?’

  ‘I’ve met her. She’s beautiful. Just like her mother. And there’s definitely something of me in her character.’

  ‘That’s brilliant news. And?’

  ‘And she didn’t know me, of course. But the woman who’s been looking after her has made sure she’s been learning English.’

  ‘You haven’t got her?’

  ‘No. There have been some. . . complications.’

 
‘What sort of complications?’

  ‘Not the sort I can talk about on the phone. It’s going to take a bit of time. I’ve agreed to help someone out with something while I’m waiting. And I need your help.’

  ‘I might have known this wasn’t just a social call. When will I ever learn? Tell me you’re not getting mixed up in anything. . . dangerous.’

  ‘No. Nothing like that. It’s just a favour for a friend.’

  ‘The lone wolf has made a friend? Wonders will never cease. Is she young and beautiful?’

  Acer laughed down the line. ‘Not my type. Or rather, I’m not hers. Can you help?’

  ‘I don’t know until you tell me what you want.’

  Acer told her what they knew about the Turkish investigative journalist who’d gone missing. He said he wanted to trace the man’s fiancée of the time. He asked if Susan might call the newspaper the man had worked for and give them an introduction, some credibility for their questions.

  Susan had questions of her own. ‘When you say he went missing, what do you know about that?’

  ‘He was working on something here. He infiltrated an organisation. They found out about him. He was never seen again.’

  ‘I thought you said this wasn’t dangerous.’

  ‘It’s not. For me. I’m not investigating them.’

  ‘So why do you want to talk to his fiancée?’

  ‘Can I tell you when I see you?’

  ‘No. You can tell me now. And before you start, I’m fond of you Acer. You know that. People who are fond of other people don’t go helping them to get themselves in trouble, hurt or worse. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, Susan. I want to see if she has any evidence of what the man was working on when he disappeared.’