‘We could get killed by Ferret Face.’
‘Forget about that for a minute.’ He waved his hand and a blob of rice fell off the fork and onto the table. ‘Close your eyes.’
‘What?’ I chewed on a piece of hellim that made my teeth squeak and frowned at him.
‘Just do it. Go on, close your eyes.’
‘Charlie, you’re being ridiculous, why should I close my eyes?’
He sighed. ‘I want you to use your imagination for a minute. I know you’ve got a rather bizarre one, so humour me.’
‘OK,’ I huffed, putting down my fork and closing my eyes.
‘Right, I want you to imagine a mini film in your head of everything you’ve seen since you came here. A lovely, happy, little film.’
‘Charlie what’s–’
‘Ssh! Just do it.’
I sighed and closed my eyes.
‘Are you doing it?’
‘Ye-es,’ I grumbled. ‘But my salad’s getting cold.’
‘OK, now think about what Cyprus has to offer that the UK doesn’t.’
I took a deep breath and thought about it. ‘Well, lots of sunshine for a start. I hate the winter in the UK. Brrr. It’s got lovely, unspoiled beaches here – Oh, my God, and I forgot to tell you the other night that we even saw a turtle laying its eggs on the beach! It was amazing. And we saw a baby goat being born by the side of the road. It was so sweet.’
‘That’s it. That’s the kind of thing I’m after. OK, what else?’
‘Erm…it’s got lots of culture and historic places to explore. Miles and miles of rolling countryside and mountains. It’s got an unhurried, casual pace of life that is actually really appealing. It kind of makes you feel free, like you don’t have to look at your watch every five minutes to make sure you’re on time for the next appointment or job so you can earn more money and rush off to pay more bills.’
‘So, basically, it’s less stressful?’
‘Yes. And it’s light and bright and makes you feel kind of energized. It’s got delicious fresh organic food. It’s so sweet to see the sheep and goats wandering around, nibbling on the wild plants. It has views that I’ve never seen in the UK. And it’s cheaper.’
‘Hmm. So, when you put it like that, it’s actually got quite a lot going for it.’
I opened my eyes then and looked at Charlie, pondering what I’d just said. It did actually sound like a fantastic opportunity to move here when I put it like that.
Charlie shot me an amused look. ‘What about the bad things?’
‘Well, Ayshe and you will be in the UK, and I’ll hardly ever see you. Kalem’s extended family are nutters. No big shops. No takeaway delivery away from town. No internet half the time. No postal service. Power cuts. My wedding dress is missing with my nan’s lucky charm. Erol Hussein is out to get us. Kalem hasn’t got a job now. We’re cursed by the Queen Cleopatra statue. I might end up like Felicity Kendall in The Good Life. And all of that’s without even including Ferret Face. I think that’s plenty, really. Oh, why did we have to come here?’ My face crumpled. You see, when I put it like that, it sounded more like a horror film. ‘Everything was perfectly normal before this.’
He tapped his lips. ‘Yes, I see your point, although I can’t quite see you as Felicity Kendall. And I don’t think Osman and his mum are nutters.’
‘But they’ve got a sniffer sheep, he made me milk a ram, and they crack boiled eggs on any available surface. That’s so not normal.’
‘I’d say that just makes them quirky, but then you aren’t exactly quirk-free, are you, missy?’ He carried on eating.
I tilted my head. ‘Well…no.’
‘So, if you hadn’t picked up Ferret Face’s suitcase, everything would be going as you planned, and you’d probably actually enjoy being here? Apart from the shops and Ayshe and me.’
I narrowed my eyes, deep in thought for a minute. ‘I think so.’
Charlie put down his fork and slapped a hand on the table. ‘Well, let’s go and find the bad guys and do something about it.’
I drained the last dregs of my coffee. ‘Yes, you’re absolutely right.’ I vaulted out of my chair.
****
We moseyed through the front door of the Plaza like a couple of chilled-out holiday makers. A different receptionist was on the desk. The smile was the same, though: helpful and courteous. I bet they all had mouth ache when they finished their shifts. Our flip-flops clicked across the glittery marble reception area as we made our way past the loungey leather sofas to the bar at the side.
No Ferret Face.
OK, not a problem. It was early days yet and the place was huge. Huger than huge, in fact. It was like a mini town.
‘Let’s do the inside first, then we can go out to the pool area,’ I said, sauntering past an open-plan piano bar with only a few people inside.
We took the stairs down to the lower ground floor, past the trendy boutiques. No Ferret Face doing a spot of haute couture shopping. Not surprising, really, judging by the state of the contents in his suitcase.
‘Let’s try the spa.’ I pointed towards the doors and pushed them open.
Ooh, very nice. Subtle low lights, terracotta walls, scented candles dotted around, and the smell of…well, I wasn’t sure, but it was pretty yummy, whatever it was.’
‘Hello,’ I said to the perfectly made up spa receptionist with super shiny black hair. How did she manage to get it like that? ‘Is it OK, if we have a look around?'’
‘Hello, sir, madam. I’m the spa manager here.’ Another very helpful smile. ‘Let me give you a tour of the facilities. We at the Plaza want you to have the maximum enjoyment experience.’
Oh, if you must, but be quick about it.
She led us past the desk, around a juice bar with lots of weird-coloured drinks that had bits of vegetables sticking out the top, and we entered a corridor. Leading off to one side were some inviting-looking sunbeds. The urge to lie down and sleep myself into oblivion was overwhelming, but we had more important things to do.
‘This is the chill-out area,’ she said, carrying on up the corridor, through some glass doors, and sauntering towards an empty indoor pool.
Very nice. Lots of mosaic tiles and Roman-looking murals. Past the pool to another glass door that led to a gym with the latest hi-tech equipment.
‘And here is our luxurious spa,’ she announced after we’d gone up yet another corridor and through some more doors.
God, you could get lost in the spa area alone.
‘Is it OK to look at the changing rooms?’ I enquired sweetly.
‘Yes, of course. That is the men’s.’ She nodded to Charlie. ‘Feel free to have a look.’
I mouthed to Charlie, ‘Look for Ferret Face.’
‘Ooh, yes, please!’ Charlie seemed a bit over-enthusiastic at checking out the men’s changing rooms.
‘And this is the women’s.’
‘Yes, it’s lovely.’ I nodded, making a mental note to check myself in for a five-hour massage when this was all over.
Charlie emerged from the men’s at the same time we came out of the women’s. ‘Lots of fit men in there!’ Charlie’s eyes had popped out on stalks.
Trust him to get sidetracked. I rolled my eyes and made an impatient well? gesture at him, turning my palms upward and shrugging at him.
He shook his head at me.
No Ferret Face. Damn.
‘And here are the treatment rooms.’ The spa manager proudly swept a hand towards five empty rooms and one closed door at the end, which had a Do not disturb sign on the door.
Well, as if that would stop me!
I knocked on the door.
‘You can’t go in there, madam. Someone is having a treatment!’ she said.
‘Man or woman?’ I asked.
‘Pardon, madam?’
‘Is it a man or a woman having a treatment? I’m doing a survey on how many men have beauty treatments for Just for Women magazine.’ I gave her a gleaming smile.
/> ‘Just for Women magazine! Oh, you should have said. That’s wonderful. I buy it every month,’ she gushed.
Was there even such a magazine? I’d just made it up.
She held her hand out to me, ready to shake. ‘It’s so lovely to meet someone from the magazine. If there’s anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask me.’
She tilted her head, waiting for me to ask something.
‘Well, I’m definitely going to give this spa a mention.’ I beamed at her.
She clapped her hands together and gave me a smile so wide I could almost see what she had for breakfast. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful! I loved the article you did last month: How to Have the Best Orgasm.’
‘Great! I’m glad you liked it. I did that one.’ I gave her a conspiratorial wink.
‘You know – I never knew you could use a –’
‘So…man or woman?’ I cut her off, inclining my head to the treatment room, waiting for an answer.
‘Oh, it’s a woman in there, madam.’
‘OK, thanks very much. You’ve been very helpful.’
‘Are you her assistant?’ she asked Charlie.
‘I’m the magazine make-up artist.’ Charlie flicked an imaginary stray hair off his forehead.
She clapped her hands together again. ‘This is so exciting. How big will the piece be?’
‘What piece?’ What was she going on about?
‘The piece in the magazine about our spa.’
‘Ah! That piece. Er…I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind yet.’ I smiled at her.
Charlie peered at her make-up. ‘Very nice use of eyeliner.’
She blushed. ‘Can you give me a sneak preview of what will be in the next issue?’
I tapped my nose like it was a state secret. ‘It’s all very hush-hush. Wouldn’t want our rivals getting hold of it, would we?’
We left her standing there with an excited expression on her face.
Next up was the casino. Lots of gamblers who looked like they’d spent the night in there, but no Ferret Face.
We took the lift to the rooftop swimming pool. More plants, heavy-duty wooden sunbeds with lush-looking beige cushions, swim-up bar, poolside bar, lots of oiled up guests. The place was heaving, to say the least.
‘Ooh, I love the shade of pink that couple has gone. What would you call that?’ Charlie whispered to me. ‘Pink Blush? Hot Tulip?’
‘More like Scorched Raisin, I think.’
We scoured the whole area: The Perfect Couple with matching face lifts and other bits that defied the laws of gravity, the Tanned Couple who had their legs at uncomfortable looking angles to make sure they didn’t miss a spot, the Loud Couple with screaming kids that looked like they could star in The Omen film as a Damien stand-in. And lots of varying shades of Speedos, but no Ferret Face in any of them.
We took the mirrored lift all the way back downstairs.
‘Are we ever going to find him?’ I stamped my foot.
Four restaurants? Nope.
Three other bars? Nope.
Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wasn’t even staying here. What did I know? I was just a wedding photographer, after all. It seemed like a good idea yesterday, but maybe it was all just a hopeless waste of time. Maybe we’d have to scour the whole of North Cyprus looking for him. The only problem was, we didn’t have enough time to do that before the opening night.
‘Let’s check the downstairs pool area.’ Charlie wandered back past reception again and outside.
I put my sunglasses on and scanned the crowd, taking in the Olympic-size kidney-shaped pool, complete with a waterfall in the middle and a Jacuzzi at the side of it. Another pool bar. Hammocks. Giant cushions that you could easily fall asleep on if you didn’t have to worry about running round trying to find criminals.
Past the pool and down a flight of steps, and we found ourselves staring at a huge stage area in front of the sea. Behind the stage was the hotel’s port, with several yachts that looked like they cost an arm and a leg – or maybe a whole army’s worth of arms and legs. A few other smaller speedboats bobbed around in between them, lowering the tone a bit. To our right and left were a host of outdoor bars and restaurants.
‘I’m hot and thirsty.’ I stomped towards the stage bar and collapsed onto a cream sofa so soft that I almost got swallowed up in it, like I’d been attacked by a giant marshmallow. ‘This was a ridiculous idea. We’re never going to find him.’
Charlie patted my knee. ‘Don’t give up hope. I’ll get some drinks. Back in a jiffy.’ He darted off.
I flopped my head back on the chair, people-watching the crowd.
Suddenly I sat up again.
It was Ferret Face. Making his way down the steps with another man. A short, stocky, and very hairy man with really long arms who could have easily passed for a gorilla, or possibly the Missing Link between man and ape.
I watched from behind my dark glasses as they approached the bar, ordered two glasses of amber-coloured liquid, and sat on another sofa about five metres away from me. They leaned together, heads almost touching, having some sort of animated conversation.
Sit closer to me! Sit closer! Stupid people. Didn’t they know I wanted to listen to them?
Charlie sat down with two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice. Ferret Face and Co. were now directly behind him.
‘He’s over there,’ I hissed. ‘With another man. I bet it’s his accomplice.’ I rummaged in my bag, looking for my camera.
Charlie turned around to get a look-see.
‘Don’t look at them!’ I pretended to take a photo of Charlie and zoomed in on Ferret Face and his friend behind him, snapping off a couple of pictures.
They sipped their drinks slowly as we looked on, then stood up to leave.
‘Quick. We need to follow them.’ I stuffed my camera back in my bag and grabbed Charlie’s arm.
They wandered up the stairs, past the pool, through Boutiquesville, and past reception with us following close behind.
‘Excuse me, madam!’ The receptionist from the other night called after me. ‘Ibrahim Kaya is in the building at the moment. I can ask him to come and speak with you about your nuts.’
‘No time! Will come back later.’ I waved at her and hotfooted it out to the car park, just in time to see Ferret Face and Missing Link heading up the drive in a black four-by-four of some kind.
We jumped in the Land Rover and pulled out onto the main road, following a few car lengths behind. What was the usual distance for tailing a car? Directly behind? One car behind? Two? What if we lost them?
I held my breath and overtook one car, just in case. Right, now they were just one car in front.
Ferret Face raced over a roundabout and headed towards town, just as the last of the dusk turned into night.
Charlie grabbed the door handle as I raced behind Ferret Face, trying to keep up with him. ‘You go, girl.’ Then something caught his eye. ‘Hey! Another wedding dress shop!’ He pointed out the window. ‘Must check that out later.’
‘Ouch!’ I whacked my head on the roof as we bounced along over a speed hump. ‘Where’s he going?’
We drove through the narrow streets in the centre of Kyrenia, and Ferret Face took a sharp right turn. Then he parked up and they got out.
I drove past the four by four, eyes scanning around for a parking spot.
Charlie pointed. ‘There, further up.’
We jumped out of the Land Rover without bothering to lock it and followed them on foot all the way to the harbour.
They passed some open air cafés and then turned into one next to the sea.
‘Maybe they’re getting another drink,’ I said.
But no. They walked through the bar area and opened a wooden gateway at the end that led to the gang plank of a very expensive looking yacht, sandwiched in between a traditional Turkish gulet boat and a fishing boat.
We plonked ourselves down in the café and watched them climb aboard the yacht, wh
ich had the words The Israelite on it. They slid open a darkly tinted patio door and disappeared inside. A few minutes later, we saw them appear on the roof deck with an older man. As they sat down, we could barely see the tops of their heads.
‘I need to get closer,’ I whispered. ‘I can’t see or hear anything.’
‘OK, I’ll stay here in case they leave.’
The gulet to the right of the yacht had two couples on it, drinking wine. I heard the clink of glasses and soft laughter. The fishing boat to the left was in darkness, so I crept through the gate towards it. The good news was that it looked empty. The bad news was that it stunk of fishiness.
I pinched my nose and crept up the gangplank, keeping a beady eye on the yacht to my right. The fishing boat bobbed a little under my weight as I slipped onto the wooden deck.
From here I couldn’t even see the tops of their heads anymore. I needed to get even closer. Making my way past the cabin, I eased up the deck. Now I was close enough to touch the side of the gleaming white yacht. The fishy smell was even stronger here. Yuck!
The yacht had a lifebuoy dangling from the railings on the top deck above me. If I could just grab on to it, I could pull myself up higher to be in prime listening position against the side of the yacht.
I reached up, but it was a teensy bit too high. OK, only one thing for it.
I climbed onto the railings of the fishing boat, hands against the side of the yacht, trying to keep my balance as I lifted up on my tiptoes. Come on. Come on. Yes!
I snared the buoy in my right hand. So far, so good. From this position I could just about make out what they were saying.
‘We’re going to the Sultan’s Palace restaurant after this,’ one of the men said.
‘Make sure you try the lobster. It’s the best on the island,’ another one said in a gravelly voice.
‘Good idea.’ I recognized Ferret Face’s voice. ‘After that I’m going to the stage bar at the Plaza. They’ve got the best vintage Courvoisier there.’
Oh, who gives a shit what you’re going to eat and drink. Get to the good bit!
‘I want this to go like clockwork,’ Gravelly Voice again.
Six Pack of Sleuths: Comedy Mysteries Page 46