Divorce Turkish Style (21 page)

“I presume Naz has told you—”

“Nobody's told me anything,” said Aylin, with the same offhand drawl.

Naz explained briefly how Sani had died.

“Thugs!” said Aylin. “How could they leave Sani lying on the floor like that? What's the world coming to?”

I studied her face for any trace of anguish – and found it.

Aylin ordered, in English, of course, a herbal tea for herself and an espresso for Naz.

“Remzi's the person to talk to about this,” said Aylin. “You have his phone number, don't you?”

“But you were Sani's friend, so you might know things that could be useful to us,” I said.

“Like what?” asked Aylin.

“I understand Sani and Cem had made a prenuptial agreement. Did you know that?”

“Remzi could tell you more about it. He was handling the divorce case.”

“Was there any tension between them when they started discussing their divorce?”

“Tension?” asked Aylin with a smile, as if it were a joke. “What do you mean by tension? Cem naturally didn't want to part with a single penny, and was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure that.”

“But it wouldn't have included watching her die, presumably,” I said.

“It might. Even if he didn't kill her personally, he might have watched her die, and even enjoyed it.”

What? I looked at Naz in amazement. Wasn't this woman supposed to be Cem's friend? Everyone else had described Cem as some kind of angel. What was going on?

Aylin tossed back her hair and looked around at the other people in the restaurant.

For once in my life, I was lost for words.

“Men are capable of anything,” said Aylin, turning back to us.

“Has something happened, Aylin?” asked Naz, who was just as startled as me. “Are you angry with someone?”

“Someone?” said Aylin, leaning her head on her hand. “Yes, I'm furious with someone.”

“What happened?”

As if she'd been waiting for this question, Aylin started to explain.

“I went with Remzi to Paşabahçe on the day Sani died. It was six o'clock when we got back to this side of the Bosphorus. Remzi wanted to drop in at the office to pick up some papers, and I went in with him because I didn't want to be left alone. When we got there, the secretary was very flustered. She kept rushing about, doing anything she could to keep me seated in reception. And Remzi was clearly in a state. I suspected something when he suddenly announced that we had to leave. They were obviously trying to stop me going into Remzi's office, but I pushed them away and went in. A woman, the spitting image of Kylie Minogue, was in there. Remzi introduced her to me as a client called Şelale Hanım, but even her name seemed like a bad omen.”

“Are you going to divorce Remzi Bey?” I asked.

“Some people would just take this in their stride and shrug it off, but I'm not one of those people. Of course I'm going to divorce him. I've engaged a lawyer.”

“So you're getting divorced,” said Naz.

“It's impossible for the marriage to continue. I was speaking to my lawyer just before coming here. From now on, I'm an impoverished woman who is about to get divorced. Apparently, Remzi told my lawyer that his assets amount to a four-by-four and a house, of which I'm welcome to half. He was even about to make demands for money from me! How is that possible? Apart from being a successful lawyer, he also has a construction company. I need to prove exactly what he does and doesn't own. But how
am I supposed to know how much money he has and where he keeps it? I have to find proof that he's telling lies in order to get damages from him, but how do you prove that someone's lying?”

“What are you going to do?” asked Naz.

“I've no idea. He's obviously hoping to stop me from divorcing him. He told my lawyer to instruct me to make it up with him because any alimony I receive won't even cover my monthly hairdresser tips. The bastard!”

“Do you think you'll get back together?”

“No way. I'd do better to hire a private detective to prove that he's been lying to me.”

Naz gave me a meaningful look, as if she was about to say that I was a private detective.

“I don't do that kind of work,” I said hastily.

If Naz thought I'd said that in the hope of raising my fee, she said nothing.

“You might find it incredible,” said Aylin, “but I never thought that the Sani and Cem situation would happen to us, that Remzi would cheat on me or lie about money. What a fool I was! It's been really tough discovering that there's a totally different side to him.”

Poor Aylin! After years of living a fairy-tale life, she was reduced to this. Emerging from her cocoon of luxury and facing reality would be tough, of course, but Aylin's newly discovered theories about the fickleness of life were of no interest to me.

“What sort of person is Cem,” I asked, “since you said he could even have been the killer?”

“I don't know if he could be the killer, but he used to openly threaten Sani,” said Aylin. “Maybe that's what men do when they're getting divorced. Women swear, and men make threats. Cem said that if Sani divorced him, she'd have nowhere to go other than the village she came from.”

“Did Sani tell you that?”

“No, Cem said it to Remzi. He might have said it to Sani too, but she wouldn't say anything. She couldn't.”

“Why not?”

“Sani was very reserved. Extremely reserved,” said Aylin. “Was it because she didn't trust anyone, or because of problems when she was younger? What do you think, Naz?”

Naz just nodded.

“Just when I thought Sani might be considering having a child, Remzi told me that she'd decided to get divorced. Yet she hadn't said a word about her relationship with Cem going sour. Did she say anything to you, Naz?”

This time, Naz shook her head to indicate no.

“She was getting advice from my husband because he's a lawyer, yet she didn't even tell me that she'd decided to get divorced. That's the kind of person she was. Maybe I was at fault. Maybe, because we're from different backgrounds, I made her feel—”

“Inferior?” I asked.

“Not exactly, but our pasts certainly had nothing in common,” said Aylin.

“And you thought this created an imbalance that worked in your favour,” I said.

“You put it very well,” said Aylin.

I certainly had put it well. I keep telling you how good my Turkish is.

“But what's happening now, apart from the fact that you've decided to divorce your husband?” I asked out of curiosity.

“We all live the same life,” said Aylin. “Whatever our financial status or background, the moment we deliver our fate into the hands of another, we live the same dreadful life. Remzi told me to go back to where I came from, which in my case was my
father's apartment in Şişli. Can you imagine? Should I be ashamed because my poor father, who'd been an ambassador, only ever managed to save enough to buy one apartment in Şişli?”

It did seem strange for an ambassador to be so poor, but perhaps he'd spent his money in casinos. However, that was of no importance to me.

“Did Sani keep a diary?” I asked.

“A diary? I don't know. Did she?” replied Aylin.

“She used to,” said Naz.

“You do know there was a burglary at GreTur, don't you?”

“A burglary? No, I didn't know that,” said Aylin. “It must have been while I was abroad after Sani's funeral. I'd had two shocks in one day and needed to get away for a bit. But what was worth stealing from GreTur?”

“They took the computers. Do you know if there was anything on them that might have a bearing on Sani's death?” I asked.

“There were files on environmental matters and there were business files, but nothing personal. All the personal stuff was on her laptop, which she didn't leave lying around.”

“The laptop's disappeared too.”

“Was the laptop at the office as well?”

“We think they took it from her house.”

“How interesting. I wonder if she was using her laptop to write her diary,” mused Aylin.

Not bad. I certainly hadn't expected that from her. Perhaps I'd judged the Nişantaşı ladies too hastily.

“What makes you think that?” I asked.

“Sani used to say that she'd forgotten how to hold a pen,” said Aylin. “She always carried a fountain pen, but complained whenever she had to use it. You wouldn't expect her to have such a horror of pens if she was keeping a diary, would you? Presumably it wasn't a handwritten diary.”

“That was the conclusion we came to,” I said. “And it seems that we weren't the only ones to think that, because all the computers have gone.”

“In that case, it must have been someone who knew Sani at least as well as us,” commented Aylin.

“That is, of course, if such a diary exists on any of the computers. Might someone involved with environmental work—”

“What's the environment got to do with anything?” asked Aylin.

“We thought the owners of the factories that are polluting the environment in Thrace might have had a hand in this,” I said. “Would any of the computers contain anything that might upset them?”

“If so, it's news to me,” said Aylin. “Remzi might be able to help you more on that score. He's been combing through the regulations looking for discrepancies, and there are plenty that might be of use in a court case.”

“Tell me about the secretary who works at GreTur,” I said.

“She's just an ordinary woman,” said Aylin. “I think she has a brother with learning difficulties, either that or an illness that needs a lot of attention. She's always asking for time off to take him to the doctor's, which is quite disruptive to business. If it had been up to me, I wouldn't have kept her on, but Sani was too soft. Apart from that, I know nothing about her.”

“How long have you known Cem Bey?”

“We met in America. My father's last posting was in DC, Washington DC. There was a very dynamic Turkish students' association there, which was where Cem and I met. In fact, I was the one who introduced Cem to Sani.”

“Do you know Cem's family?” I asked.

“I've met them a few times. His parents aren't really social animals. They very rarely accept invitations. His mother's an
elegant lady from a family with a distinguished pedigree and his father's a highly successful businessman. But I've no idea what sort of people they are.”

“Does Cem have any siblings?”

“As far as I know, he has an older sister living in Bodrum. She's a painter. Her pictures are… Well, I don't like to put anyone down, so let's just say her work isn't really my type of thing. She's one of those artists who keeps producing work on the same subject.”

“And what subject is that?”

“Harlequins. All kinds of harlequins – laughing ones, happy ones and sad ones. I heard that she was living with a singer much older than her. He sang in the bars at Bodrum. Why do you ask?”

“That must have caused their mother a great deal of grief. I'm told she didn't even approve of Cem's marriage to Sani.”

“His mother? You mean Tamaşa Hanım?”

“Yes,” I said, wondering what was so surprising about that.

“Cem's sister isn't Tamaşa Hanım's daughter. She's the daughter of Bahri Bey's first wife.”

“Aha!”

As you might imagine, I was more than happy to hear this new piece of gossip about Cem's wayward half-sister.

“You didn't mention her name,” I said.

Aylin frowned and thought before saying, “I can't remember it. Do you know what it is, Naz?”

“This is the first time I've heard of Cem even having a sister,” said Naz.

“I'll find out and let you know,” said Aylin. “I'm going to order a salad. Do you two want anything?”

“I'll just have a tea. Do you know anything about the contents of the prenuptial agreement signed by Sani and Cem?” I said, feeling that my questions were going round in circles.

“As I said, you should talk to Remzi,” said Aylin, leaning her chin on her hand and pausing for thought before adding, “As far as I can tell, these agreements are all basically the same. They state that in the case of divorce, each party takes whatever was in their name before the marriage and makes no claims on the other's assets. If there's no prenuptial, all assets have to be shared equally, so husbands use these agreements as a loophole to protect themselves.”

“And to ensure that their wives return to where they came from,” I said.

“But even if an agreement is signed, it's still possible to do something,” said Aylin. “Take my situation. If I can prove that Remzi's been cheating on me, I can get compensation. It was more difficult for Sani because Cem wasn't the guilty party, nor was he seeking the divorce. Under our system, compensation is only payable if you can prove the other party is guilty, whereas in Europe, so my lawyer told me today, the court either awards the wife generous alimony or a large lump sum. Do you know how much Luciano Pavarotti paid out to his wife when they divorced?”