Baksheesh (28 page)

“Do you know him too?” I asked.

“We arrange home visits in order to promote the aims of the party. We go to local households where the mistress invites other local Muslim women. We all sit down together to talk and discuss matters. The women ask questions about our party and we answer them, and we tell them what we're going to do if our party gets into power. We meet with the women in the daytime, and the men's meetings happen in the evenings. Temel Bey does the evening ones, of course, but if any of his
hemşeri
are present at ours, he sometimes comes and gives a talk to the women.”

“Has he been here? Or has he been to a meeting attended by your mother-in-law?” I blurted out. The woman frowned. I probably shouldn't have asked this, but I was very excited. “I know he's a very good speaker and I was wondering if your family has benefited from his wisdom,” I asked.

However stupid that sounded, she was convinced. People never think you're waffling if you say something complimentary.

“Of course. We organize meetings at our house and Temel Bey has honoured us with his presence. No one helped us more than he did when my mother-in-law was ill. Thanks be to God. We know his wife too. Temel Bey is knowledgeable about lots of things. He's very well informed on religious matters. Dear God, if only everybody could be like him.”

She paused and looked at me. “Aren't you religious?” she asked, probably because of what I was wearing, even though I'd put on a high-necked T-shirt with my jeans especially to visit her.

“I'm not religious,” I replied.

“God forbid. That's impossible. Doesn't everyone have a religion?” she said.

I wasn't going to get into an argument.

“Actually, I'm not Turkish,” I said.

“What difference does that make? You get Muslims in every country. There's no race or language discrimination in Islam,” she said.

Having learnt what I had come for, I couldn't wait to get out. I might even have allowed myself to appear ever so slightly Muslim in order to close the conversation since, unlike men, there was no need for me to be circumcised.

But naturally, I did no such thing. I wasn't going to give this woman the satisfaction – she was too good a politician.

“I'm not religious and I intend to stay that way,” I said, in what I thought was a firm tone of voice.

The woman shook her head, indicating that I wasn't worth making an effort over. Her lips moved as if in prayer. Of course there was no point bothering with someone like me. You can argue for hours with a Christian or Jew about which religion is best, but what can you say to an atheist? That it's better to be religious than an atheist?

Despite the fact that we really had nothing to say to each other, she still offered me tea. After thinking for a long while, she made her last statement to me as I was tying up my shoes by the front door:

“If you don't believe in God, you could commit a murder, robbery or adultery. There's nothing to stop you! Just let me talk to you. Get to know about Islam, and then make up your mind.”

“Thank you for the tea,” I said.

“Islam is a tolerant religion. Everyone has a place in Islam,” she called out after me.

“Lazy woman,” I hissed, as I went down the stairs. At least Christian missionaries trek across continents for their beliefs. Didn't they go out and convert half the Buddhists in South Korea to Christianity? And they work damned hard. What do Muslims do? They visit other Muslim brothers to collect votes, yet they know nothing about atheists living two streets away unless they come and knock at the door. Even I could churn out propaganda to people who came visiting me. The Muslims do nothing except wait for an atheist to turn up. Useless.

I just made it for five o'clock. If I hadn't felt I had to go to the hairdresser's, I would have called Batuhan to suggest meeting earlier. Still, I was able to calm down a bit at the hairdresser's, which was in the newly opened Tower Hotel in Kuledibi. It was all so exciting. I'd solved another murder case! I could leave the task of proving my claims to the Turkish police. After all, they were the ones with access to forensic laboratories and pathologists.

However, there were still a few unexplained points. One in particular was still bugging me, even preventing me from enjoying the euphoria of success. Why wasn't Özcan on the list of cooperative founders? Especially since he was the most talented and competent of the brothers.

I left the shop in the capable hands of Pelin and went to the tea garden with Batuhan. I felt like a really mean boss because I was continually complaining about her being lazy, yet it was thanks to her that I could go out wherever and whenever I pleased. On the other hand, she was using my home like a hotel. There aren't many bosses who would let you turn up on their doorstep with all your belongings, are there? True?

 

I had no time for small talk if I wanted to be looking radiant at Selim's mother's house in Nişantaşı by eight-thirty. I got straight to the point, without even waiting for the tea to arrive.

“I know who the murderer is.”

Batuhan covered his mouth and laughed out loud.

“Oh, yes! So who is it?”

He thought it was all a joke. Would punching him in the face have made me feel any better? Perhaps not, since the guy whose brains I wanted to smash was a police officer. I took three deep breaths in an attempt to dispel my irritation at his stupid laughter.

“The Vice-Chairman of Beyoğlu Council, Temel Ekşi,” I said. His face trembled and he clicked his tongue.

“Babe,” he said. Ugh! What a disgusting word, but I swallowed it. God knows why.“What does the Council Vice-Chairman have to do with it?”

If the cretin sitting opposite me were ever to earn a police medal for extraordinary service, if there was such a thing, then it would be because of me. He might even get a salary rise. Or promotion. Become Chief Commissioner.

No, that was going too far!

“Tell me, what's the connection, pet?” he said this time.

I decided to contain myself and be polite.

“Look,” I said. “I address you as ‘Batuhan'. There's no need to use epithets when talking to me, my name is sufficient.”

“Pardon?” he said, seeming not to have understood me. Not that I'd said anything complicated, but the brainless idiot's mind was on other things.

It's always best to be blunt. That way, everybody understands what you're trying to say.

“Just call me Kati,” I said, “There's no need for ‘babe' or ‘pet'.”

He strained his neck from side to side, with a clicking noise.

“OK, Kati. Please, would you explain to me the connection between the Council Vice-Chairman and the murder?”

“Firstly it's not the murder, it's murders,” I said.

“Very well, but please explain.”

I did.

He listened to me without saying a word.

“That's a theory, of course,” he said when I'd finished. “A sound theory, in fact.”

“If I only had all your officers and laboratories at my disposal.”

“I understand,” he said. “You don't fancy me today.”

Ugh!

“Darling, I always fancy you,” I said. I was being sarcastic as you no doubt realize.

“What else have you found out?”

What a question to be asked by the officer in charge of a murder investigation!

“Who do you suspect, tell me that first,” I said. “Did you look into Ä°smet Akkan?”

“That man has at least four reliable witnesses, not counting the people working at the holiday village.”

“Was he with them on the night of the murder?”

Batuhan nodded.

“So, who do you suspect?”

He laughed.

“I've suspected everyone at some point. There's nobody else left,” he said.

“Osman's lover?”

“Ä°nci Hanım,” he said with a sneering smile.

“Hmm.”

“Let me explain a few things to you about how the world works,” he said, indicating to the waiter that he wanted two more teas brought over.

“This Ä°nci Hanım had a lover who was the son-in-law of someone well known, and Osman found out about it. Fifteen days before he was killed, he got one of his brothers to follow her. Musa, the one who looks after the car park here. He followed her day and night. What these men get up to! Who would think they'd play at being detectives among themselves? The woman didn't suspect a thing. They'd also been tracking the man she was meeting and found out who he was. But Osman was killed before he could take action.”

“Who told you this?” I asked.

“The young one, Özcan.”

“Why didn't he say so right from the start?”

“Never mind him now. Ä°nci wasn't at home on the night of the murder.”

“And it just so happened that Musa had stopped following her,” I said with some irritation, “because he thought there was
no point in carrying on now that everyone knew she'd been deceiving Osman.”

“Yep! That's exactly what happened.”

“So how did you know Ä°nci wasn't at home that evening?” I asked.

“She admitted it herself. We took her in for questioning this morning and she told us everything. The only thing she wouldn't tell us was the name of her lover. She thinks we don't know. She doesn't care about being accused of murder, but she won't give away her lover's name. We told her to prove that she didn't go to Osman's office that evening, but she wouldn't. She might at least have tried. She doesn't realize.”

“Doesn't realize what?”

“That she called Osman's mobile on her landline at fourteen minutes past seven, which was just before Osman was killed.”

“Aha! If you've got hold of the phone records then you also know if Osman spoke to Temel Ekşi.”

“Wait, I'm coming to that. Be patient.”

I couldn't be patient – it was my lover's mother's birthday.

“Tell me quickly. I have to leave for the cinema,” I said.

“Oh, for God's sake, cancel the cinema,” he said, taking out his mobile and handing it to me.

“Impossible. I can't get hold of Lale. She's coming to the cinema straight from a meeting.”

“We could have gone out for a nice dinner.”

“Sorry, I just can't.”

“I've found a really good kebab house. The cooks there remove every bit of sinew from the meat. It's very special. And the turnip juice comes all the way from Adana. Their kebabs are so good you want to eat your fingers too.”

“Impossible,” I said yet again. “Anyway, forget about dinner. You were talking about telephone records.”

He took hold of my hand. I didn't pull it away.

“I want to talk to you,” he said.

“Here we go again,” I thought to myself.

“What are we going to do about us?” he asked.

“What about us?” I replied.

He looked straight into my eyes.

“Very well, you mustn't be late for the cinema. Let's go,” he said, sounding offended. This was always happening to me. It was always the sensitive ones who became infatuated with me. There never seemed to be any of the tough ones around. If only one of those would fall for me, it wouldn't be such hard work.

He was already on his feet.

“Will you sit down?” I said.

He sat down immediately because, despite being sensitive, he didn't have the courage to play hard to get. He knew me very well, of course. I don't pander to anyone.

“Are you married?” I asked.

“Where did that come from all of a sudden? Is our problem that I might be married? Anyway, what makes you think I'm married?”

“If you weren't married, you wouldn't be insisting we went out for dinner this evening. We could go tomorrow,” I said.

“It can't be tomorrow,” he said.

I nodded, thinking he must have told his wife he was working that evening, and you can't tell the same lie two nights running.

“Well then, let's make it next week,” I said.

“Fine,” he said, lowering his head.

“Do you really suspect Ä°nci?”

“I'm just curious,” he said, raising his head again.

“What?”

“Whose is the child?”

I laughed so loud that people at the other tables turned round to look at us.

“It's not Osman's,” I said.

“What!” he said. “Wait, how do you know this?”

“I spoke to the maid that Ä°nci sacked. I'll give you her address and you can speak to her yourself. The woman's very keen to explain everything.”

“What does she know and what does she say?”

“All about Ä°nci's private life. It turns out the teacher's son wasn't her only lover.”

“What!” he said again. “How on earth did she manage the logistics of it all?”

“By buying a different mobile for each lover,” I said.

“What do you mean?”

“Ä°nci had a different mobile for each lover. One particular lover would have the number for each mobile. Supposing she wanted to meet X that day, then she would turn on the mobile whose number only X knew, and switch off all the others. The next day, she'd turn on the mobile whose number Y knew. She had the same number of mobiles as she had men. Or maybe it was SIM cards. I don't really understand these things. Anyway, she was exploiting the blessings of technology.”

“Just a moment. If Musa was following Ä°nci, he must have known about the other lovers.”