Deep State (The Acer Sansom Novels Book 4)

by Oliver Tidy

‘What was he working on?’

  ‘Susan. . .’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘The concept of a deep state operating in Turkey.’

  Acer expected her to start voicing her concerns and show reluctance to help. She said, ‘Interesting.’

  ‘You know anything?’

  ‘Nothing detailed. I’ve heard the rumour. It crops up from time to time. OK. Here’s the deal. I get you in and you find something out, you pass it to me when you’re done with it. How does that sound?’

  ‘Deal.’

  ‘Liar. That was too easy. Is the introduction for you?’

  ‘No. A Canadian woman. She’s going to masquerade as a freelance investigative journalist looking for the man’s fiancée for a feature she’s doing.’

  ‘Give me her name and details. Just in case I need them.’

  Acer said, ‘Tell them she’s undercover. Can’t give her real name, but you can vouch for her.’

  Susan tutted and said, ‘Fine. You got a number I can reach you at?’

  Acer said, ‘Is this number showing up on your phone or is it withheld?’

  ‘Showing.’

  ‘Call me on it when you have something then. And Susan?’

  ‘Don’t tell me; you need this urgently, right?’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Take care, Acer. You’re getting your daughter back. Just remember that.’

  He turned to Mo and Zeynep and said, ‘She’ll do it. We need to talk about how we’re going to play it. When she calls back, I want to move straightaway.’

  Mo said, ‘You’re confident she will?’

  Acer smiled. ‘She’s never let me down yet.’

  Zeynep said, ‘The newspaper’s offices are across on the European side of the city. I think we should hire a car. It would be better for us to be independently mobile. Agreed?’

  They did.

  Zeynep said, ‘Let’s organise that from here while we wait. Then when your friend calls back we can move.’ To Mo, Zeynep said, ‘We should hire the car in your name. You’re the only one here who no one has any idea of. Your name won’t mean anything to anyone.’

  Acer said, ‘You think ours will?’

  Zeynep shrugged. ‘Why take that chance if we don’t have to?’

  ‘Fair point.’

  Mo said, ‘I can’t drive in this city. I need open country roads.’

  Zeynep smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll drive.’

  *

  Zeynep arranged for the car to be delivered to the hotel. While they were waiting, Kemal’s mobile rang.

  ‘Yes, Susan.’

  ‘OK. I’ve spoken to a guy at the paper. His name is Batu Turan. You’ve got an appointment for twelve o’clock.’

  ‘Thank you. What did you tell him?’

  ‘What you told me to: investigative reporter looking to do a piece on deep state in Turkey. Looking to talk to anyone who knew Efe Erdem – that’s his name by the way. One thing you should prepare for: he asked how come she knew about Erdem. I said they knew each other professionally from something else they’d both worked on but not together. I’ve had a look online at some of the dead guy’s previous work. He was certainly a risk-taker. He did a well-received piece on corruption in the Turkish police a few years back. You could use that as your common thread.’

  ‘That’s brilliant. Thanks again, Susan.’

  ‘Don’t forget what I said about having things to live for these days, Acer. And remember that sometimes it would just be polite to let me have something in return.’

  Acer laughed. ‘Take care, Susan.’

  ‘Keep in touch, Acer.’

  Acer turned and said, ‘Twelve o’clock at Saat’s offices. The guy’s name is Batu Turan.’

  Zeynep looked at her watch and said, ‘As soon as the car gets here, we should go. Traffic can be a bitch. And I think we need to buy another mobile phone.’

  ***

  20

  Within five minutes of Zeynep’s being at the wheel, Acer was reminded of Eda – a Turkish woman who he had worked with and become emotionally involved with. She was dead now. Killed in a road traffic incident that continued to make Acer suspicious. It was something that he knew he would one day have to investigate for himself. He said, ‘Why does everyone in Istanbul drive like they’re in a race?’

  Zeynep said, ‘Because everyone is.’

  Acer held his tongue as she nipped through a red light. He turned in his seat to look out of the back window. ‘Wasn’t that red?’

  ‘Only just. Only just red in Istanbul is like your amber.’

  Acer shook his head. ‘But if everyone drove more carefully and considerately, wouldn’t everyone have a smoother, safer journey?’

  ‘No. Because not everyone would. You would always have a number of drivers who would see the careful and considerate driving of others as an opportunity to cut them up and progress quicker.’

  ‘If you can’t beat them, join them.’

  ‘Something like that. It works.’

  Acer pointed at the opposite side of the road, where a car had run into the back of another and the drivers were out of their vehicles exchanging details.

  Zeynep said, ‘Most of the time.’

  While they were hurrying along through the built-up areas, Acer turned in his seat to explain to Mo what Susan had told him about her ‘background’.

  Mo listened and said, ‘OK. No problem. So your contact didn’t tell him I was looking for the fiancée?’

  ‘No. That’s up to you to drop into the conversation.’

  Mo said, ‘What are we going to do if we can’t find out her name or where she is?’

  Zeynep said, ‘Ask about his family. His mother. Turkish men are notoriously close to their mothers. We might be able to find out something from her if she’s still alive and around.’

  ‘And if she’s not? I mean what if I come away from this meeting with zilch?’

  Acer said, ‘We think again. If she’s out there, she can be found.’

  As they crossed the first of the two great bridges that spanned the Bosphorus, connecting Europe and Asia – West and East – everyone’s attention was taken by the stunning panorama, dotted with points of interest. They had their own reasons for shutting their mouths and opening their eyes and minds to take in the sights: the iconic skyline with its world famous historic buildings nestled on the Golden Horn; palaces and mosques squatted on the shores of the channel; and the overdevelopment of tightly packed homes rising on either side of the water. The Bosphorus teemed with traffic going in all directions. A giant freighter was making its lumbering way up the middle of the channel, little fishing boats darted about or just bobbed on the spot and ferries arrowed from shore to shore. There were two enormous cruise ships moored on the European side.

  Mo said, ‘Wow.’

  Acer said, ‘Very impressive.’

  Zeynep said, ‘Welcome to Istanbul.’

  *

  They didn’t speak much more on their drive through the busy streets of Beşiktaş on their way to Beyoğlu. They passed through Taksim, with its famous square, the focal point of many violent and bloody, globally televised clashes between police and demonstrators.

  Acer remarked that it was good that Zeynep knew her way around the city. Both he and Mo quickly came to appreciate the need to counter aggressive driving with aggressive driving.

  They drove past the offices of Saat at eleven o’clock. Zeynep spent five minutes searching for somewhere to park. Frustrated, she bumped the car up onto a pavement and they left it there. They went in search of somewhere to buy a mobile phone.

  At a quarter to twelve, Zeynep and Acer headed for a nearby cafe to wait, while Mo, after some last-minute coaching and a hug of encouragement from Zeynep, walked off in the direction of the newspaper’s offices.

  They took a table inside the window. Zeynep ordered them Turkish coffee.

  Acer said, ‘You know that phone was probably stolen, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course.
That’s why it was cheap. But it’s also untraceable and was ready to go with credit loaded. That’s what we needed. If it makes you feel better, when we’re done with it I can hand it in at a police station.’ She was smiling at him.

  Acer smiled back. ‘Is there anything you can’t buy on the streets of Istanbul?’

  Zeynep made a face indicating serious thought, then said, ‘Probably not.’

  Acer said, ‘How long have you two been together?’

  ‘Two years.’

  ‘Where did you meet?’

  ‘Bodrum. You know it?’

  Acer said he did. He didn’t say how.

  Zeynep said, ‘What will we do if this doesn’t lead anywhere?’

  Acer shook his head and breathed in and out heavily. ‘Right now, I honestly don’t know. Let’s hope that it does and deal with the alternative if we have to.’

  The coffee arrived, and they sipped the bitter, grainy substance. Acer had another keen memory stirred and forced the lid back on that compartment. Now was not the time.

  Acer said, ‘Let’s talk about what if Mo does find something out. How do you really feel about maybe going to Syria?’

  ‘Not great. It’s not on my list of must-see places. Certainly not these days. But if there is a chance that I can find something there that will encourage my family to leave me alone, forget I exist, I’ll risk it. Because I have to. You?’

  ‘I have no choice, Zeynep. If Mo finds a name and a city, I’ll go alone if I have to. I mean that. Without violence, I can think of no other way to get my daughter back. And I’ve had enough violence to last me a long time.’

  Zeynep stared intently at him. ‘Where?’

  ‘Different places.’

  ‘Have you killed people?’

  Acer met her stare. ‘Yes.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Enough to know I don’t enjoy it. Most of them were either involved in the situation that cost me my wife and my daughter or have stood in the way of my getting my daughter back.’

  ‘What happened? How did you come to lose your wife and daughter?’

  ‘It’s a long story. If we go to Syria, we’ll need things to talk about. Let’s save it.’

  ‘You said “most”.’

  ‘Another long story. What about you?’

  ‘What about me?’

  ‘The others that your family sent to do their dirty work. You said they were at the bottom of the sea. Were they down to you?’

  ‘Yes. It was me or them. I thought that anyone who’d travelled all that way to kill me must have been quite serious about it. I learned some things from my family that I have come to be grateful for.’

  Acer said, ‘So we’re a couple of killers, passing the time in an Istanbul coffee shop.’

  ‘Looks that way.’

  ‘If we go to Syria we might need to get in touch with our killer instincts again. Like Mo said, it’s out of control, a country in the grip of a violent and lawless civil war that’s just exploded into a free-for-all for any armed group looking to establish itself in the region. You have a problem with that?’

  Zeynep sighed deeply. ‘I don’t enjoy it, either. But, like you, if someone looks like taking an interest in ending my life, I’ll do whatever’s needed to stop them.’

  Kemal’s mobile rang on the table between them. They looked at the screen. Acer indicated Zeynep should answer.

  ‘Yes, Mo.’

  ‘Bingo. I got a name and an address.’

  Zeynep gave Acer a wide smile and a thumbs up. ‘Come out of Saat and turn left. We’re in a coffee shop. I’ll look out for you.’ Zeynep ended the call.

  Acer said, ‘That was quick. Did she say where?’

  ‘No. She’ll be here in a minute.’

  They looked out of the window. They saw Mo step out of Saat’s front door onto the pavement. As she started heading their way, Acer noticed a man push off a wall, fold his newspaper and walk after her.

  ***

  21

  Zeynep stood to go and signal Mo.

  Acer said, ‘Wait.’

  He picked up the phone and called Mo. They watched her as she stopped and rummaged around in her bag for the mobile. Behind her, the man stopped and looked in a shop window.

  Acer said, ‘She’s being followed. Man in the brown jacket and jeans.’

  Mo answered the phone.

  Acer said, ‘Listen carefully, Mo. Do not react to what I’m going to say. Understood?’

  ‘Yes.’ She sounded calm.

  Acer said, ‘I think you’re being followed. A man. We can see you. Keep walking in the direction you are. Normal pace. Look like you’re going somewhere. Keep the phone in your hand.’

  Acer terminated the call. They watched as Mo and her shadow went past them.

  Zeynep said, ‘What are we going to do?’

  Mo and the man were moving out of sight.

  Acer said, ‘Take the phone. Get the car. Keep in touch with Mo. I’ll follow them on foot. Can you get ahead of her?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Zeynep threw some money down onto the table and they headed for the door.

  Acer said, ‘Can you direct Mo to a quieter area? Is there a park near here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do it then. Get her in the park. Onto a bench in a quiet place.’

  ‘What will you do?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  They left the cafe. Zeynep went left and hurried away for the car. Acer went right. He estimated that he was fifty metres behind the man, who was on the opposite side of the road.

  Acer’s side of the street was in heavy shadow. He moved along it, keeping the distance between them even, trying to look like a browsing tourist. He saw Mo bring the phone up to her ear and have a short conversation. Acer was glad to see that she didn’t risk looking round at her stalker. Acer wanted that man as relaxed as possible when the time came for action.

  As they walked, Acer considered his options: intercept the man and question him or just create a distraction for him – delay him so that Mo and Zeynep could get away. He thought about how the man came to be following Mo. It seemed obvious that someone at Saat had made a phone call. It then followed that there was a good chance the information that Mo had was false. Acer felt that probability left him with no choice. Now he was preoccupied with whether the man was armed.

  They walked for a hundred metres on the same straight street; then Mo turned left. The man followed her. Acer kept his distance. The narrow road wound around a couple of bends. Looking ahead, Acer saw trees – more than the token greenery that lined the roads in this district: a park. He quickened his pace.

  Still with the phone to her ear, Mo went through a gap in the high stone wall to her left and out of Acer’s sight. The man disappeared after her. Acer jogged on.

  The park was a large, green space. Acer could see a couple of old men on a bench and no one else. There was an empty children’s play area, what looked like a tea hut that was boarded up and a small artificial pond spanned by an ornate wooden bridge. Zeynep was standing in the middle of the bridge talking on her phone looking at the ducks on the water. She wore a headscarf that covered her face and large sunglasses. Acer smiled. He liked her thinking.

  Mo walked onto the bridge, past Zeynep without a word or acknowledgement and off the bridge to the other side. She kept walking. The man stepped onto the bridge. Acer hurried to close the gap between them. Zeynep put the phone in her pocket and turned away from the rail to block the man’s path. Acer saw that she was holding a tyre iron at her side. She let the man see it. He stopped. His arms hung loosely at his sides. He looked from Zeynep to where Mo was now standing and looking back at them. He turned his attention back to Zeynep.

  From behind, Acer saw the man’s hand go into his jacket. Acer sprinted the remaining few metres and bounded onto the wooden surface of the bridge. Before the man could react to the noise behind him Acer had grabbed him in a bear hug, pinning his arms to his sides. Zeynep moved in qui
ckly and raised the tyre iron – her meaning was clear. The man stopped struggling.

  Acer held him tightly and said, ‘See if he’s armed.’

  Zeynep moved closer. The man tensed. Acer squeezed. The man said something in Turkish.

  Zeynep said, ‘He said he’s police.’

  Acer said, ‘I can feel a gun. Tell him you’re going to take it from him and his identification. And if he struggles I’ll break his neck.’

  Zeynep passed the message on. She took the man’s gun and wallet without a fuss.

  She slipped the pistol into her jacket pocket and stepped back to inspect his identification. Mo had come back to join them.

  Zeynep said, ‘He’s a policeman. Shit.’

  She spoke harshly to the man. He answered.

  Zeynep said, ‘He’s been told to find out where Mo goes, who she talks to, where she’s staying.’

  Acer said, ‘Who by? Why?’

  After another angry exchange, Zeynep said, ‘He said he doesn’t know. He just does what he’s told.’

  Acer said, ‘Surprise, surprise. Well, there’s not a lot we can do about him here. Where’s the car?’

  Zeynep pointed behind her towards another gap in the high stone wall on the other side of the park.

  Acer said, ‘You and Mo, go. Get the car started. I’m coming.’

  Zeynep didn’t move. She said, ‘What are you going to do with him?’

  ‘I’m not going to hurt him.’

  ‘What about his gun? His wallet?’

  ‘Keep the gun. Drop the wallet in the water. Hurry up, Zeynep.’

  She did as he said and she and Mo began hurrying away.

  The man said something to Acer.

  Acer said, ‘I hope you can swim.’

  He tipped the man off balance. The man began struggling. He was thin and wiry and not without strength. But he was no match for Acer’s body weight advantage, anger and power. Acer lifted him off his feet. The man kicked, catching Acer’s knee. It gave Acer the boost of rage he needed to throw the man over the rail and into the water.

  At the man’s shout followed by his splash, Zeynep and Mo looked back from the gap in the wall. Acer was limping in their direction, rubbing his knee and waving them on.

  ***