Istanbul Affair

by Joanna Mansell

  Amy looked at him with some impatience. 'I'm not really interested in any of this,' she retorted. 'If I were on holiday, then it would be fine; I'd have fun exploring every inch of this place. But I'm not on holiday. And all I keep thinking about right now is that someone's probably watching us. That man who phoned must be following us around, to check that we're doing exactly what he told us to do.' She glanced round nervously at the groups of people ambling casually through the courtyard. 'He could be just yards away and we wouldn't even know, because we don't know what he looks like.'

  'There's every chance that he isn't following us at all,' Benedict said calmly. 'That could well have been just a threat, to make sure that we obeyed his instructions.'

  'But you don't know that for certain.' Benedict simply shrugged, which made Amy really annoyed. 'I don't think you're taking this at all seriously,' she accused him.

  His dark eyes immediately narrowed and his mouth set into a grim line. 'Believe me, I'm taking it very seriously. But there's absolutely nothing we can do until that man gets in touch with us again. So let's try to get through the next few hours without too many arguments, accusations or unpleasant scenes.'

  'All right,' agreed Amy, in a more subdued tone. 'And I'm not deliberately trying to make things more difficult. It's just that I'm still finding this rather hard to cope with.'

  'I know,' he said, with unexpected understanding. 'How about taking a look around the Harem? That might take your mind off our problems for a while.'

  Amy very much doubted if anything was going to be able to do that! She trailed after him as he headed in that direction, though. She felt restless and wanted to keep on the move.

  They had to join a guided tour, since visitors weren't allowed to wander through the Harem on their own. But they tagged on to the very end, and then lingered for a while in a room covered with beautiful tiles, letting the main group move some way ahead of them.

  Amy and Benedict followed at a leisurely pace, through a small mosque with walls covered with more exquisitely patterned tiles, and then out into a courtyard that had wrought-iron lamps hanging on a colonnade down the middle. There were small rooms on either side, and Benedict nodded towards them with a very faint grin.

  'These were the quarters of the black eunuchs. They were the guardians of the "sultan's greatest treasure".'

  'In other words, his poor wives,' said Amy with some indignation. 'Cooped up here like prisoners, and never allowed to go out, see other people, or live normal lives.'

  'They lived in great luxury,' Benedict pointed out.

  'That hardly makes up for all the things they were never allowed to do. They must have been bored to death, with nothing to do all day except make themselves beautiful, in case the sultan decided he wanted one of them to share his bed!'

  'Perhaps we'd better move on,' he said, almost smiling now. 'I don't think that this is the place to get involved in an argument on women's rights.'

  Amy's eyes gleamed. 'You probably just feel uncomfortable because this is the eunuchs' quarters. I shouldn't think many men want to stay here for too long!'

  He raised one eyebrow expressively, and then walked off. Amy grinned to herself, and then followed him.

  They caught up with the main group in the apartments of the chief wives of the sultan. They moved on to the apartments of the Queen Mother, all the rooms sumptuously decorated and blazing with colour. Then they were in the part of the Harem that had been used by the sultan himself.

  They stopped in front of a great white marble bath that had a grille set in front of it, to protect the sultans from attempts on their life while they bathed.

  'They obviously didn't feel too secure even here, in the Harem,' Amy commented.

  'Where someone has great power, there's always someone else wanting to take it away from them,' said Benedict. 'Intrigue, murder, plots and counterplots— their lives were never dull!'

  'You sound slightly envious,' Amy said in surprise. 'Your life isn't dull, is it? Or do you just like the idea of having a harem?' she added, her green eyes suddenly gleaming.

  'My life certainly hasn't been dull for the last couple of days,' Benedict said drily. 'And one woman at a time is quite enough for me. Sometimes too much, in fact!'

  Amy wondered if he were talking about Angeline. Her cousin could certainly be hard to live with, at times. Had they lived together? she found herself wondering. On Benedict's own admission, they hadn't known each other for very long, but that didn't usually stop Angeline from plunging straight into a fairly intense relationship.

  For the first time since they had left the hotel, she felt a ripple of jealousy running through her. Oh, no, she thought with a sinking feeling. Not again! She had thought she was over that. Ever since that phone-call this morning, she hadn't been able to think of anything except the very real danger that Angeline was in. Now, though, all the confused feelings of last night were beginning to creep back. With an effort, she tried to push them away; but they didn't want to go. There was something about this place—with its echoes of luxurious sensuality, memories of long nights of love or sheer lust, lives that were devoted solely to the arts of pleasure—that was beginning to make her feel slightly strange.

  The tour party moved on, but Amy was reaching the stage where she could only take in fleeting and rather blurred images. A vaulted hall, fountains, crystal mirrors, splendid chandeliers and magnificent Chinese vases, decorated tiles and stained glass, paintings of flowers and fruit and geometric designs, and then something that she couldn't see but seemed to be vividly aware of, the ghosts of the scented, sensual, beautiful women who had lived here.

  She was rather glad when they finally left the Harem, walking back out into the bright sunshine that filled the courtyard.

  'Are you all right?' asked Benedict, looking at her and frowning slightly. 'You look a little odd.'

  'I'm OK,' she said. 'At least, I am now. There was a rather funny atmosphere in there. Although I suppose that's not very surprising when you think of everything that must have happened in there over the centuries. All those women locked away for the pleasure of one man, and the only other men they ever saw were the eunuchs, who weren't quite men at all. There must have been so much frustrated desire, petty jealousies, power struggles when one favourite of the sultan was replaced by another. And all played out against that background of claustrophobic luxury.'

  Benedict's dark gaze rested on her, and there was an expression in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. It was almost as if he were really looking at her for the very first time.

  She thought that he was going to say something, and for just a moment she held her breath. Then he turned away rather suddenly, and began to walk over to the far side of the courtyard.

  Amy followed more slowly. The sun beat down hotly on her head, and she felt very slightly dizzy, although she didn't think that it was from the heat. Benedict finally stopped and waited for her to catch up with him, and they walked on in silence for a few more yards.

  'If you thought the Harem was luxurious, then perhaps you ought to visit the Treasury,' he suggested. 'Among other things, it houses the Topkapi dagger, and one of the largest diamonds in the world.'

  At that particular moment, Amy wasn't particularly interested in jewels, no matter how large or famous they might be. But she wanted to get out of the sun, so she nodded in agreement.

  'All right, let's take a look.'

  She wandered through the first room without too much enthusiasm, looking at armour set with precious stones, weapons encrusted with more jewels, a magnificent throne, jade vases and gold plate.

  In the second room, her green eyes did open rather wider as she gazed at the Topkapi dagger, studded with large emeralds and diamonds and set on a pearl-encrusted gold cushion.

  'Like it?' murmured Benedict in her ear.

  'The sultans certainly liked jewels,' she said, raising her eyebrows. 'It's all rather ostentatious, but I suppose it's not too hard to get used to all this glitz and
glitter.'

  'If you think this is ostentatious, come and look at the diamond in the next room,' he invited.

  A minute later, she was staring through thick security glass at an eighty-six-carat diamond, surrounded by forty-nine smaller diamonds.

  'Very nice,' Amy agreed. 'If you like diamonds.'

  'I thought all women were supposed to like diamonds.'

  She looked at him scornfully. 'Do you really believe that old cliché?'

  Amusement shone briefly in his dark eyes. 'I don't think many women would refuse a diamond, if one were offered to them. But it's certainly the wrong stone for you. You need emeralds, to match your eyes.'

  'I don't want diamonds or emeralds,' Amy said tartly. 'And I'm getting rather tired of staring at all these jewels. They're making my eyes ache.'

  She marched out of the Treasury, not even looking to see if Benedict was following her. It was early afternoon by now, she was tired and hungry, and she was beginning to feel as if this was yet another day that was stretching on forever.

  'I've seen all of the palace that I want to see,' she said in a rather abrupt voice, when Benedict finally caught up with her. 'Can we go now?'

  'Perhaps we could get something to eat,' he suggested.

  'If you like,' she said without enthusiasm. Quite suddenly, she didn't really care where they went or what they did.

  He touched her lightly on the arm.

  'What's the matter?' he said with a small frown.

  'Nothing,' she snapped. At the same time, she jerked her arm away from him. 'And please don't do that,' she added tautly. 'I don't want to be touched.'

  His frown deepened, and he looked at her for some time, as if trying to figure out what had brought on this sudden change of mood.

  Amy could have explained it to him, but she certainly wasn't going to. There was no way she was going to tell him that the strain of having to spend so much time with him had suddenly started to get to her. He would want to know why she found it such a strain to be with him—and she definitely didn't intend to give him an answer to that particular question!

  There was a restaurant inside the grounds of the palace, with a fine view of the Bosporus. Amy managed some soup, but only picked at the doner kebab that followed, and couldn't face a dessert at all. Instead, she drank a couple of cups of strong coffee, which only made her already raw nerves feel even more frayed.

  She was irrationally annoyed to find that Benedict had eaten everything that he had ordered. The man must have cast-iron nerves. Nothing seemed to get to him.

  When they had finished eating, he looked at her. 'What do you want to do now?'

  'What do I want to do?' she said edgily. 'I want to go home and get on with my life. I want to be back in my shop, because my mother's absolutely hopeless at running it. She's probably already sold half my stock at less than I paid for it. I want to be somewhere that isn't hot, crowded, crammed with gold and jewels, and exquisitely decorated. I want—' She stopped very abruptly there, because she was suddenly extremely afraid of telling him what else she wanted.

  To her relief, Benedict didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong. He didn't even seem to hear the ominous crack in her voice.

  'You're just tired,' he said in an unruffled tone. 'You didn't sleep very well last night.'

  'How do you know that?' Amy demanded, suddenly alert again. 'Were you watching me?'

  'I didn't need to,' he said, still sounding relaxed and even slightly amused. 'You were trying so hard to lie very still and quiet that it was rather obvious that you were awake. People who are asleep move around quite a lot, and their breathing alters.'

  'Well, I suppose you'd know all about people's sleeping habits,' she retorted. 'I dare say you've shared your bed plenty of times!'

  Benedict gave a small shrug, not even bothering to deny it. 'Does that bother you?' he asked.

  'Of course not,' Amy shot back at once, and rather desperately hoped that her voice sounded convincing. 'It's absolutely nothing to do with me.'

  'Then why did you bring up the subject?'

  It was a perfectly reasonable question, but the problem was that she couldn't produce an equally reasonable answer. So she merely glared at him, pushed away her empty coffee-cup, and then got to her feet.

  'I want to go now.'

  'Go where?'

  'I don't know,' she admitted with a small scowl. 'Just somewhere away from here.'

  'We can walk for a while, if you like.'

  Amy decided that she was quite willing to go along with that suggestion. She felt very restless again. Perhaps if she kept on the move it would help to get rid of some of the adrenalin that kept building up inside of her.

  They made their way back to the old part of Istanbul, and then just wandered round the streets for a couple of hours. By that time, Amy's fascination with the endless shops and the amazing variety of things they had to sell was definitely beginning to pall. The heat, the crowds of people and the non-stop noise began to get to her, and she could feel herself beginning to wilt. It was late afternoon, and she felt as if she had seen more than enough of Istanbul for one day.

  Benedict was walking a couple of yards ahead of her. He still looked cool, despite the humidity and the sunshine, and he was showing absolutely no signs of any tiredness.

  Amy caught up with him and tugged at his sleeve.

  'Can we go back to the hotel now?' Then she shot a rather black look at him, irrationally resenting the fact that he was coping with the strains and exertions of the day so much better than she was. 'Do you even know where the hotel is?'

  'Of course,' he replied calmly.

  She pulled a face. 'Don't you ever get lost?'

  'No. In fact, we're not very far from the hotel. We've been walking in a wide circle.'

  Benedict led her through a couple of narrow side-streets, then they emerged into another main thoroughfare. 'The hotel's just down there,' he said, pointing to a side-road just to their left.

  Amy gave a sigh of relief. Her legs ached, her head ached, and the rest of her felt positively limp.

  'I want a long shower, an hour's sleep and a good meal,' she pronounced.

  Benedict's expression changed. 'My guess is that Angeline would like all of those things, as well. But she almost certainly isn't getting them.'

  Amy briefly closed her eyes. Angeline, Angeline— didn't he ever stop thinking of her?

  Then she immediately felt totally guilty. Her cousin was in very real danger, and probably frightened out of her mind. She ought to be thinking of Angeline far more often than she did, instead of whinging about unimportant things like the heat and her own tiredness, or getting wrapped up in her confused feelings for Benedict Kane.

  As she trudged into the hotel, she promised herself that Angeline was going to be her top priority from now on. She would do whatever she had to do to get her cousin safely back again.

  When they reached their room, she chucked her bag on to the chair and kicked off her sandals.

  'Do you mind if I shower first?' she asked.

  Before Benedict could answer, though, the telephone suddenly rang.

  Amy stopped dead. It was awful, but she didn't want to answer it. She would have given anything to be able to walk out of the door and away from this nightmarish mess.

  Instead, however, she forced herself to think of Angeline, and picked up the receiver with a hand that she willed to remain steady.

  'Hello,' she said in a quiet tone.

  'Who have you got with you?' said the muffled voice of the man who had phoned her before.

  'I don't understand—' she began.

  'Of course you do!' he cut in roughly. 'You were told to come on your own, but there's a man with you. Who is he?'

  Amy began to panic slightly. She put her hand over the receiver and turned to Benedict, her green eyes radiating alarm.

  'He knows you're here,' she said rapidly, in a low voice. 'He was following us, and he's seen you. He wants to know who you are.'


  Benedict looked quite unruffled. 'Tell him that I'm your fiancé,' he instructed.

  'What?'

  'Your fiancé,' he repeated calmly. 'That gives me a perfectly legitimate excuse for being here. You can also tell him that I refused to let you come to Istanbul on your own, but insisted on coming with you.'

  Amy swallowed very hard. 'I—I don't think I can say that.'

  Benedict's eyes hardened. 'Do it—now!'

  She removed her hand from the receiver and cleared her throat.

  'The man who's with me, he's—he's—' She gave another nervous cough. 'He's my fiancé,' she finally got out in a rush.

  'Why did you bring him with you?' demanded the man at the other end of the phone. 'The letter told you to come on your own.'

  'No, it didn't,' Amy said, surprised that she had the nerve to argue with this man who was holding her cousin captive. 'It just told me to book into the Golden Horn hotel. My fiancé wouldn't let me travel all this way and then stay in a strange country by myself. He insisted on coming with me.'

  The man growled something under his breath and it didn't sound very polite. He obviously didn't like this new twist in events.

  'This means that there might have to be a change of plans,' he muttered at last.

  'But you will still let Angeline go?' Amy said with fast-growing anxiety. 'When we've done whatever it is you want us to do, she'll be released and she won't be harmed in any way?'

  'I'll get in touch again in a day or two,' said the man in a more decisive tone. 'In the meantime, you and your fiancé had better be very careful not to arouse any suspicions or do anything that's at all stupid.'

  'We won't,' Amy said without hesitation. 'I promise that we won't. But why do we have to wait? If you want money, why can't we give it to you straight away?'

  He didn't even answer. The phone went dead in her hand, and she slowly replaced the receiver.

  'Well?' demanded Benedict tautly. 'Did he buy it? Does he believe I'm your fiancé?'

  'I think so,' said Amy. Then her eyes flashed angrily. 'But he didn't like it. He's not even going to get in touch for another couple of days. Coming here with me was a really bad idea. It could even have put Angeline's life in danger. Why didn't you stay in England and let me handle this by myself?'