Arabesk

by Barbara Nadel

  'I was quite surprised to see that you were still with Mr Urfa when we found his daughter,' he said as he edged slowly into the appropriate traffic lane.

  'He was very distressed after the broadcast' Çöktin replied, somewhat baldly, Suleyman thought

  'What do you mean?'

  Çöktin shrugged. 'He wanted to talk.'

  'About?'

  'Is there something wrong with my talking to a victim of crime?' His tone was really quite challenging and, though not exactly out of character, it was more confrontational than Suleyman had expected.

  'It is when that person could be a suspect himself,' he said. 'What you have to remember, Çöktin, is that if we look at the situation from a romantic, for want of a better word, perspective, Urfa does stand to gain by the death of his wife.'

  'What do you mean?'

  As the traffic queue came to a grinding halt, Suleyman turned to his sergeant 'To free him for Tansu Hanim.'

  Çöktin, quite unexpectedly, laughed. 'What, you mean marry her?'

  'Not necessarily but—’

  'She's old enough to be his mother, sir!'

  Suleyman bristled. 'So?'

  The two men shared a look that informed Çöktin that he should not really continue with this line of argument. He looked down at the floor and cleared his throat 'Well, I suppose he might marry her, but .. . Did he tell you that, sir? That he might marry Tansu?'

  Suleyman opened the window of the car and lit a cigarette before answering. 'No,' he said, 'quite the reverse, in fact He said it was his intention to marry another girl from his village, though he said he would still carry on seeing Tansu. But people do lie,

  Çöktin, and aside from the initial shock that his wife's death gave him I can see very little of the desperately grieving husband in him.'

  'Doesn't mean that he killed his wife though, does it? If Cengiz Temiz is to be believed, the assailant was a woman anyway, though I'm not sure we can necessarily believe Cengiz Temiz, can we, sir? I mean, you must admit to being a little wary about his story. There have to be a lot of questions, don't there? I mean, why did he leave his apartment when his parents were out? Why did the "devil woman" only hiss as opposed to attacking him when he saw her standing over the body of Ruya Urfa? Why was the door left open in the first place? It's too fantastic. We can't take it as absolute truth, can we?'

  'No,' Suleyman smiled, 'but nor can we necessarily believe Erol Urfa either. The point I'm trying to make, Çöktin,' he said as he gently eased the car forward a few millimetres, 'is that one must always keep an open mind.'

  'Well, yes.

  'Even when that openness is extended to people of one's own type,' he looked intently at the car in front, 'if you know what I mean.'

  He felt, rather than saw, Çöktin's anger.

  'Oh, so people have been saying that just because Urfa and myself—'

  'People have been saying nothing.' Suleyman flicked the ash from his cigarette out of the window. 'But that issue will arise unless you are very careful. The slightest hint of partisanship will be both noted and commented upon. Staying with Mr Urfa in your own time and turning up at the station with him and his entourage later are just examples of this.' Then turning to look at Çöktin, he added, 'We must all be totally correct in this matter. If Inspector Ìkmen taught me nothing else, he taught me that that is the only way to arrive at an honest solution to a crime.'

  'Yes, but you come from wealthy—'

  ‘I know exactly where I come from, Çöktin,' Suleyman said with a hard edge to his voice, 'and I know you know I have not always been popular because of it'

  'Yes, but—'

  'Every time someone of high birth is either arrested or implicated in a criminal act to which I am assigned, people nudge each other knowingly. I know this.' Then leaning towards Çöktin he said, 'But I also know that the only reason I have survived is because I have never given in to partisanship, bribery or the lure of informal little talks with suspects. There are several prominent - families in this city who will no longer talk to me because of my attitude. But I don't care. We are here to ensure that the innocent are protected and the guilty are punished. That is our job.'

  'Police work is not always like this,' Çöktin said as he lit up a cigarette of his own. He then added bitterly. 'There are people who are completely innocent who—'

  'I do not intend to get into a discussion about anything that occurs east of Ankara,' Suleyman snapped. 'Until today I have never even so much as alluded to the differences between you and myself. But you must be careful with regard to Urfa. He is a high-profile person who is watched, followed and regarded by everyone.' With just a quick, sharp look, he added, 'I'm actually looking out for you, you know!'

  Çöktin mumbled something that could have been thanks but then he moved miserably down into his seat and stared malevolently at the car in front 'You must know that things are different for the poor, whether out in the country or here in the city,' he said. Where my parents come from people burn working in the intense heat of the summer for just a few lira, virtual slaves to corrupt village headmen.'

  Suleyman sighed. Although accustomed to being told that he couldn't possibly empathise with the common man, he always felt that the resentment frequently levelled at him personally was misplaced. After all, the last of his parents' servants had been given notice (due to lack of Suleyman family funds) when he was four. And besides, the way Ìkmen had always trained him to see things was that if a person were guilty of a crime, that guilt stood regardless of that person's status in life. And the law, if at times only theoretically, agreed. But he knew, sadly, that there was no way of telling this to Çöktin right now. He had things in common with Erol Urfa - nationality, age, possibly philosophy of life too.

  Çöktin didn't want Erol to be a murderer and, in truth, Suleyman felt that it was not really likely. However, as the lead officer in this case, he had to be rational. Çöktin, though an excellent policeman, was exhibiting a blind spot with regard to Urfa that was disturbing. It seemed not to extend to Tansu but then that was perhaps to do with her being a woman or, rather more specifically, a very unpleasant woman. In respect of Erol Urfa, however, Çöktin would have to be guided most carefully. Either that or watched.

  As Suleyman regarded his deputy's sulky face out of the corner of his eye, he decided that the latter option might just be the best course to follow.

  Ferhat Göktepe, though well-accustomed to Tansu's frequent rages, found himself completely at a loss with regard to her grief. Earlier, in his capacity as her caring manager, he had taken her to an audition for a part in a new film. Although the production company involved were in fact French, the casting of Tansu was only a formality. Göktepe had sent them enough publicity material to convince them that Tansu was 'big' in her own country, which is what the French had wanted. Big, Turkish, a peasant - all that was fine. But the producer, one Marcel Saint Denis, wanted Tansu not for the love interest in what was essentially a soft porn movie but as the scheming elderly mother of the depraved Sultan. Göktepe hadn't yet told Tansu this. And with her behaving the way she was, he couldn't imagine he would be breaking the news to her for some time.

  Göktepe looked from the screaming mass of Tansu on the sofa towards the large unopened bottle of champagne on the table and back again. Ever patient, Tansu's sister Latife and two brothers, Galip and Yilmaz, stood silently behind their sibling's writhing form, looking concerned.

  'I'm going to have to speak to Ibrahim Aksoy about this,' Göktepe said as he took his mobile telephone out of his jacket pocket 'Erol must be made to see reason.'

  ‘I’ll bring him back myself if I have to,' Galip said darkly and placed a protective hand on Tansu's shoulder. 'No one uses my sister and then just throws her away.'

  'Exactly,' Göktepe concurred. He punched a number into his telephone. 'Which is why I am going to sort it out' He leaned forward to speak directly to Tansu. 'Don't worry, my brightest star, Ferhat will not let you down.'

  B
ut before he could press the send button to make the call, a voice of dissent joined the conversation.

  'What you're all forgetting,’ Latife said as she moved round the sofa to sit with her sister, 'is that Erol has gone from here in order both to honour his wife and to preserve the dignity of his child. Whatever we may think, it does not look right for him to reside at the home of an unmarried woman, known to be his lover. I mean, the police could even still be—'

  'Shut up! Shut up!' Tansu screamed and took a hard if hopeless swing at her sister. 'I want Erol here and I want him now!'

  'I don't think you should have said that,' Galip muttered. He pulled Latife roughly up from the sofa.

  The considerably younger Yilmaz looked across at his brother and stuttered, 'D-d-don't you think we sh-sh-should get a d-d doctor?'

  Ferhat Göktepe smiled as he finally pressed the send button. 'No need for a doctor to get involved,' he said confidently. 'I'll sort it out with Aksoy so that we'll all be happy and well.'

  'I want Erol in my arms now!' Tansu hollered as she leaned forward to grab a cigarette from the table. "Then we will open that champagne!'

  Just before Göktepe got through, the distinctive sound of the electronic doorbell floated through from the front of the building. Knowing that the little maid would get it, all those involved in Tansu's latest drama stayed where they were.

  As soon as Göktepe. started to speak it was evident that he was communicating only with an answering service. Tansu dissolved into more smoke-wreathed tears.

  'Hello, Ibrahim,' Göktepe said with a smile on his lips if hot in his eyes. 'Listen, my brother, I know it will be a trouble but you and I really need to talk urgently. I am right now here with my lady who is, I do not joke, dying for love of your Erol.'

  Yilmaz, who was genuinely touched by Göktepe's words, began to join his sister in tears.

  'So you see, I must speak to you, Ibrahim,' Göktepe continued. 'Insallah, between us we can find a solution to this problem.' Then he clicked the phone off, muttering 'You prick' under his breath, smiled at the family and sat down.

  A knock on the door announced the arrival of the maid.

  'Come in, Belkis,' Latife called.

  The door opened to admit a girl who looked as if she was only about twelve years old. She wore a very plain grey tunic which only served to accentuate the thinness of her figure; plus a loud floral headscarf.

  With halting steps she approached the disarrayed figure on the sofa; "There are two gentlemen to see you, madam,' she said as she made a movement that might have been a bow.

  Rearing dramatically, Tansu swung round to grab Galip's hand. 'It's him! It's my beloved with Ibrahim Aksoy.'

  'Now, Tansu, my soul, let us not get too excited.'

  The little maid looked down sadly at the floor. 'Actually it is two policemen,' she said. 'An Inspector Suleyman and another man.'

  As quickly as she had taken Galrp's hand, Tansu released it with a disdainful flicking motion. 'What?' she said to the girl violently. 'What did you just say?'

  'Your visitors are policemen, madam. An Inspector—'

  'Fuck off!' Tansu snarled and waved the little girl away. 'Don't tell me what I don't want to hear! And tell them to fuck off too. I—'

  'Tansu!' Latife hissed She moved round in order to attempt to silence her sister. 'You cannot tell the police to go away!'

  'I can! I'm a fucking star, I can do whatever I like!'

  Göktepe who had, until now, been silent upon this matter, cleared his throat 'Yes, you are a star, my darling, no one can deny that, but where the police are concerned . ..' He shrugged as if giving in to the inevitable.

  Latife was now hunkered down at Tansu's side. She took hold of her sister's hand and kissed it. 'If you don't see them, darling, they will think all sorts of thoughts that are just not true. And besides, as Turkey's only true beloved star, you must lead the way in being a good citizen, mustn't you?'

  A strange moment passed during which Tansu's mood, as the rest of the party all knew, could have moved in either direction. But as her breathing began to settle, they started to have hope.

  'Mmm.' It was said through sobs and with little enthusiasm, but as Latife gently shifted some stray hairs out of Tansu's eyes, the singer leaned forward and kissed her.

  'Now can I ask Bellas to show them in?'

  Tansu swung her legs down onto the floor and reached for a tissue from the table. 'Do I look OK?' she asked, much as she must have done when pleading for approval as a child, Ferhat Göktepe thought.

  Latife smiled. 'Not even tears can spoil your lovely face,' she soothed as she gently touched that face once again. Turning back to the maid, Latife said, 'Please show the gentlemen in now, Belkis.'

  'Yes, madam.'

  'And when you've done that,' Tansu said as she ground her cigarette out in the ashtray, 'you can collect your things from your room and go.'

  ‘Tansu!'

  Within a split second the eyes had hardened yet again. "That is my last word on the subject, Latife,' Tansu said imperiously. She surveyed the trembling girl once again with extreme distaste and shouted, 'Go!'

  'Now, Tansu,' Göktepe began. 'No!'

  The girl began to cry, 'Oh, but beloved lady—' 'With your hateful eyes of blue and the bad news you always seem to bring, you are a devil indeed! Now get out of my sight, bringer of policemen!'

  As the girl ran weeping from the room, Tansu took a deep breath and then lit another cigarette. 'I may not be able to control the world,' she said darkly as she surveyed all of those around her, 'but I will rule over my house without question.'

  And with that she settled herself against the back of the sofa to await the police.

  'Bulent! Bulent!' Ìkmen shouted as the front door slammed shut behind the retreating back of his son. Then with a sigh he let his upraised arms flop to his sides in despair. Zelfa Halman, who had observed all that had passed between father and son from the door to Ìkmen's balcony, walked into the hall and took the inspector gently by the arm.

  'Come on,' she said forcefully, 'let's get outside.'

  'I'm sorry you had to see that,' Ìkmen said as he allowed himself to be led into the living room and then out into the thick summer air once again, 'but that boy appears so rarely that I feel I must try to make him listen to reason when I do see him.'

  'Growing up is never easy,' the doctor said as she flopped down onto the only comfortable chair to be had. 'He's a teenager. What can I say? I mean, we've all done it, haven't we?' She reached across the table for her cigarettes and then lit up.

  'Done what?'

  Zelfa Halman smiled. 'Rebelled.' She seemed, to Ìkmen, to revel in the sound of the word. 'When I was your son's age my parents had just split up so I was sent to live with my Uncle Frank. Oh, and I'd just started college too. It was rough but do you know what stands out about that time now? Remembering, of course, that Uncle Frank is a priest and therefore very pious.'

  Ìkmen shrugged. 'No, I can't imagine.'

  'What stands out, Ìkmen, is the way that I and my friends broke both civil and religious laws. Basically, whenever anyone went across to England, he or she would bring back a whole load of condoms for us.' Seeing Ìkmen, or so she thought, blush a little, Zelfa added, 'Not that we ever used the bastard things, we were much too scared and ignorant to do that. But, for myself, I'd make sure that Uncle Frank got a look at them from time to time and I did once blow one up in front of his housekeeper. What your son is doing is quite normal.'

  'Mmm.' Ìkmen looked unconvinced, but before the doctor could comment upon this he changed the subject. 'So you were brought up a Catholic then, were you?'

  'Yes. Mum was religious and Dad didn't care much so she got her way. And anyway it was Ireland in the nineteen fifties, for God's sake. My father might just as well have been from another planet.'

  'So although you are Turkish you would, I assume,' Ìkmen said slowly and with seemingly some difficulty, 'prefer, for the sake of ease, I suppose, to have ser
ious friendships with fellow Roman—'

  'Stop digging, Ìkmen! I'll tell you nothing, as well you know.'

  -Ìkmen, thoroughly chastised and thwarted in his attempt to review Halman's intentions vis-a-vis Suleyman, looked down at the floor. 'Sorry. That was both clumsy and prurient of me. I keep on doing such things these days. I must be getting old.'

  Zelfa Halman took a long drag on her cigarette and then said, So why did you ask me to come? Not, I hope—'

  'No, no.' He sighed. 'No, although connected with Inspector Suleyman, my need to see you doesn't pertain to his private life. It is as a professional that I wish to consult you, Doctor.'

  'For yourself? Your own problems?'

  'No.' Ìkmen took a cigarette from his packet and lit up. 'Basically something which may or may not be irrational has been bothering me. This thing, which may or may not have a bearing upon Inspector Suleyman's current investigations, could be absolutely irrelevant. But because I feel as I do, I must explore the issue. Do you understand?'

  'Yes.'

  Down below in the street, some of the shops were beginning to put their lights on, as much a signal to the coming night as the merciful drop in temperature.

  'Dr Halman, do you know anything about devil worship? I don't mean your European burning witches type of thing, but the Turkish version of that’

  'Oh, you mean like the concept of the night belonging to Shaitan, women who cast fortunes, sorcery, the djinn. . .'

  'No, no,' Ìkmen said and then almost unconsciously dropping his voice, 'No, I mean the devil worshippers, the Yezidis. You as a foreigner, as it were, might have heard. . .'

  'Oh, yes,' she said with a smile, 'you're right that people from this sect might be more willing to speak to me than to yourself. Not, of course,' she added with a twinkle in her eye, 'that I am telling you I have ever had a patient who is a Yezidi.'

  'No.'

  'No. All the identity cards of my patients have categorically stated their owner's religion as Islam, Judaism or Christianity. And that I can tell you with absolute honesty.'