Deep State (The Acer Sansom Novels Book 4)

by Oliver Tidy

  22

  They were several streets away before anyone spoke. Zeynep said, ‘We’re in trouble now. You just don’t do that to the police in Turkey and expect to get away with it.’

  Acer said, ‘I don’t think we had a choice, Zeynep. Besides, it’s done. And it’s not disastrous. He didn’t see you or me. He saw Mo, but from now on, if she wears the scarf and sunglasses no one will know her. This is a big city. I’m more concerned that our contact turned out to be a bad one. The information he gave Mo can’t be trusted now. We’ve got nothing.’

  Mo said, ‘No. We have something. The man I spoke to definitely knew Efe Erdem – I’d swear to that.’

  Acer said, ‘Pull over, Zeynep.’

  She stopped the car at the kerb and turned off the engine.

  Acer said, ‘I have an idea. We go back to Saat.’

  Zeynep said, ‘What? Are you mad?’

  Acer said, ‘We go back and wait for the man Mo spoke with to come out of the building at the end of his working day. Two can play at following people. We’ll follow him to his home and ask him again what he knows. Only this time he’ll have a gun stuck in his mouth.’

  The women looked at Acer with something approaching fear on their faces.

  Acer said, ‘Listen. I’m going to say this for the last time. Let’s all be crystal clear about this. I will do anything necessary to get my daughter back. I don’t automatically resort to violence, but it’s a good means to an end when you’re dealing with untrustworthy, uncooperative people. If you don’t want to be part of this, then I’ll leave you and you can go back to living in fear.’

  After a long moment, Acer said, ‘I’ll give you ladies a minute alone.’ He stepped out of the car and went to look in a shop window.

  Quicker than he expected, he was waved back. He leaned against the car and looked into the open driver’s door window.

  Zeynep said, ‘All right. We’ll do it your way.’

  ‘Good. There’s a tea garden over the road. Let’s get a drink. We’ve got some time to kill. And Mo, put the scarf and glasses on. And do not take them off. You’ve just become a pious Muslim woman. Congratulations.’

  ***

  23

  They watched the offices of Saat from the car. Zeynep had found a spot with a good view of the front door.

  Zeynep said, ‘Don’t you think they’ll wonder about someone coming back to speak to this man?’

  Acer said, ‘Maybe.’

  Zeynep said, ‘Well what if they do?’

  ‘We’ll deal with it when the time comes.’

  Mo said, ‘That’s him.’

  A short, overweight and almost bald man in a crumpled suit and carrying a briefcase had just emerged from the doorway. He turned and walked in the opposite direction from them. Zeynep started the car and waited.

  They watched the man turn into a side road and out of sight.

  Acer said, ‘Better go after him.’

  They drove up and into the street that was lined with cars, tightly packed in on both sides.

  Acer said, ‘Anyone see him?’

  None of them could. Acer swore. Ahead of them a little puff of exhaust fumes signalled the starting of an engine. They went past the car slowly.

  Acer said, ‘That’s him. But he’s pointing in the opposite direction. You need to turn around.’

  ‘In this street? There’s barely room to pass between the cars.’

  Zeynep put her foot down, looking for a place to turn the car around. They had to wait until they got to the end of the street. She swung it round in a wide arc, forcing two other cars that had a right of way over her to stop quickly. The drivers were quickly leaning on their horns. She accelerated back the way they had come.

  The car had gone. Zeynep grunted and went faster.

  They soon saw it, snarled up in the evening traffic. Cars were nose to tail for as far as they could see.

  They crawled along like that for several seconds before Acer said, ‘I have an idea. Where’s the gun?’

  Zeynep said, ‘In my bag. Why? What are you going to do?’

  Acer said, ‘Just keep an eye on his car. Wherever it goes, you go. If he stops, you stop. Don’t lose him, Zeynep.’

  Acer took the gun out of her bag and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He got out of the car in the traffic and walked between the stationary lanes of idling vehicles to where the newspaperman’s car sat. He opened the door behind the driver and got in. It was only as he slammed the door shut that it occurred to him that the man might not speak English.

  The man, obviously surprised and then angry, turned to Acer and started shouting in Turkish. Acer put the pistol in the man’s face and pushed to turn him back facing front. He reached up and tipped the rear-view mirror so that the man could not see him. He tapped him hard on the top of his head with the pistol and said, ‘You speak English?’

  ‘Little English. Small bits. Please.’

  Acer said, ‘Hands on the steering wheel.’ The man obeyed. Acer said, ‘Keep driving. Slowly. You have a family?’ The man nodded. ‘Children?’ The man nodded again. ‘Good. You want me to come to your home and shoot you in front of your family?’ The man shook his head. ‘You understand me?’ The man nodded. ‘Good. You lie to me, I’m coming back. I shoot you and your wife in front of your children. Understand?’ The man nodded. ‘A woman came to see you today about Efe Erdem. Yes?’ The man nodded. ‘You lied to her, yes?’ More nodding. ‘Why? Why did you call the police?’

  ‘They tell me. Anyone asking Efe Erdem, I call them. They say.’

  ‘Who say?’

  ‘Police say.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They not tell me. Just call them.’

  ‘The name and place you gave my friend. True or not true?’

  The man shook his head. ‘Not true. I not understand she is.’

  ‘What do you know?’ Acer jabbed him in the neck with the barrel of the pistol. He saw the sweat glistening on the man’s skin. That was good. Sweaty fear was a hard thing to fake.

  ‘I know Efe Erdem. We working at paper. We friends. Please.’

  Acer said, ‘Do you know where we can find his girlfriend?’ The man shook his head. He said, ‘Maybe Efe mother know.’

  ‘You know where she lives?’ The man nodded. ‘Istanbul?’ The man nodded. Acer said, ‘Drive there now.’

  Acer took out his phone and called the women. He told them who they were going to see and to follow. Zeynep asked him where she lived. Acer asked the man. He said Üsküdar. Acer relayed this to Zeynep. She told him it was back on the Asian side. Acer settled in for the drive.

  ***

  24

  It seemed a long time later when the man turned into the quiet residential street of nondescript buildings and stopped at the kerb. He killed the engine and continued to sit with his hands on the steering wheel. Acer showed him the gun, in case he had ideas about leaving without saying goodbye.

  Acer looked back to see Zeynep park behind them. He waved her to come and join him. She got out, wearing the scarf and sunglasses and came to sit in the back of the car with Acer.

  Acer said, ‘I think he needs someone to talk to him in his mother tongue.’

  Zeynep and the man had a conversation in Turkish.

  In English, Zeynep said, ‘He wants to know what you’re going to do with him.’

  ‘Tell him that if he doesn’t mess me about, I’ll let him go. Also tell him that if he does mess me about, I’ll be back to do what I promised earlier.’ Zeynep gave Acer a questioning look. Acer said, ‘He’ll remember.’

  Zeynep spoke to the man and he nodded.

  Acer said, ‘Ask him how he knows where Efe Erdem’s mother lives.’

  Zeynep asked. When the man had replied, she said, ‘He said they were friends. Efe Erdem lived here with his mother. He has been here before.’

  ‘If they were friends, why did he call the police after today’s visit to Saat?’

  After a longer conversation, Zeynep said
, ‘Because those have been his instructions if anyone ever came asking about deep state. He said that he is afraid of deep state.’

  ‘What does he know about it?’

  Zeynep spoke to the man. ‘He says only what everyone else does. He never wanted to get involved in Efe Erdem’s research. He said he knew it would end badly for Efe. He said he warned him about it, but Efe took no notice and now he’s dead.’

  Acer said, ‘Is he going to give me any trouble?’

  Zeynep asked the man. He shook his head quickly.

  Hoping that the man might understand enough English, Acer said, ‘Good, because I don’t want to have to shoot him like I shot that policeman.’ He winked at Zeynep. He said, ‘Let’s all go and see what the man’s mother has to say.’

  Acer signalled Mo to stay in the car. The three of them climbed the concrete steps to the apartment building’s front door. The man pushed the buzzer for flat four. It was answered by an old-sounding woman. The man identified himself. It seemed that the old woman was pleased to hear from him. She buzzed them in. They took the stairs. On the way up, Acer told Zeynep to tell the man to say that they were all friends and that he and she were journalists.

  She had the door open before they reached her floor. In response to her surprised face, the man repeated what he’d been told to say.

  Quietly, Acer said, ‘You’ll need to keep translating for me.’

  Zeynep said, ‘He’s told her we want to ask her about her son.’

  After an uncertain moment, she invited them inside. The man went first. He took the old woman’s hand in his, kissed the back of it, and lifted it to his forehead. It was an archaic gesture of respect and deference for an elder. He then hugged the old woman. Zeynep shook the woman’s hand and they exchanged a formal Turkish greeting. The woman gave Acer a long look before smiling and gesturing him inside.

  They sat in a formally arranged lounge. The furnishings were heavy and old looking. Lots of dark polished wood and uncomfortable-looking chairs. Framed photographs covered the surface of a big sideboard. The room was tidy and smelled a bit musty.

  The woman offered tea. Acer understood this. The man looked at Acer. Acer shook his head once. The man spoke to the woman and she sat. The man looked at Acer again for guidance.

  To Zeynep, Acer said, ‘Speak to her. Tell her who we’re looking for. And ask if there’s anything here of her son’s work. We might get lucky.’

  For some minutes, Zeynep spoke in a respectful and deferential tone with the old woman. The topic of the conversation obviously moved the old woman. The man joined in the discussion, but his input seemed helpful rather than obstructive to Acer. The man stood and moved across to sit on the sofa next to the old woman. He took her hand. It was a good sign for Acer, a sign that the man cared about her and about her dead son. Maybe Acer wouldn’t need to worry about this man when it came to letting him go.

  After a few minutes, Zeynep turned to Acer and said, ‘She said that soon after her son disappeared, men came to her home and searched the flat. They took things away with them. Things of her son’s work.’

  Acer said, ‘What about the fiancée? Does she know where she is?’

  Before Zeynep could ask the woman, Acer said, ‘Wait.’ He indicated that he and the man would wait out of earshot. The old woman looked confused as the man and Acer stood. She said something to the man. He smiled at her and said something to pacify her. Acer looked at Zeynep for a translation. She indicated with her expression that there was nothing for him to concern himself with. Acer and the man stepped into the hallway.

  Zeynep came out a short while later with the woman behind her. They said their goodbyes and offered their thanks. The man and the old woman embraced briefly and then they left. Going down the stairs, Zeynep indicated she’d got something to help them.

  Outside on the street, Acer pointed at the man and said, ‘Ask him this: does he want to cause the old woman trouble with the authorities?’

  Zeynep did and got a shake of the head in reply.

  Acer said, ‘Has he got a business card?’

  After a brief exchange, the man produced one from his wallet.

  Acer took it. He said, ‘Tell him he will be easy for my friends to find if he disappoints me or causes us problems. Tell him to go home and forget all about this evening. It never happened. He keeps his mouth shut, the old woman is left alone and his children grow up with both their parents. It’s that simple for him.’

  Acer studied the man’s face for his reaction as Zeynep relayed the message. He believed that the man understood Acer was not making empty threats.

  Acer indicated the man should leave. He and Zeynep watched him get in his car and drive away.

  Zeynep said, ‘I’m glad you didn’t hurt him. I don’t think he’ll make trouble for us.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, Zeynep. What did she tell you? Anything worth the trip?’

  Zeynep smiled and held up an opened envelope that had obviously been posted at some time.

  ***

  25

  They decided not to wait around. The evening was creeping into night. There was nothing else for them to be out and about for, so they headed back to the hotel.

  With the adrenalin of the afternoon wearing off, they were all feeling the travel of the previous day. And they were hungry.

  *

  They went straight to Zeynep’s room together to look at what the old woman had given them. Zeynep removed the envelope from her bag and studied the front of it. She said, ‘The stamp has Assad’s head on it.’

  Mo said, ‘Assad as in the president of Syria, Assad?’

  ‘Yes. I can’t make out the date.’ She opened it and slid out a handwritten letter. She said, ‘At least it’s in Turkish.’

  The other two waited while she read it.

  Zeynep said, ‘It’s from the fiancée.’

  Acer said, ‘She’s in Syria, then?’

  ‘She was when she sent this.’

  Mo said, ‘What does it say?’

  ‘She’s with her family. Most of it’s the usual boring stuff. She’s letting the old woman know that she arrived safely. She hopes the old woman is well. She misses her and Istanbul and, of course, she writes about their shared loss – the son.’

  ‘So it’s no good to us?’ said Acer. ‘No handy return address?’

  ‘No address,’ said Zeynep. ‘But the old woman told me where she lives.’

  A relieved Acer said, ‘Why didn’t you say so?’

  ‘I just did.’

  ‘So why have you got the letter?’

  ‘The old woman has written a message on the back of it. It’s our reference for the fiancée to speak with us. If we can find her.’

  Acer leant back and said, ‘Well that’s something, I suppose. Now we have to hope she’s got something we can use and that she’ll let us have it.’

  Zeynep smiled again and said, ‘According to the old woman, she’s got everything of what the son was working on at the time he went missing.’

  Acer stared at Zeynep. ‘But you said at her flat that the police came and took everything away.’

  ‘He didn’t keep it at his home; he kept it all at his fiancée’s apartment. The people who came to search the old woman’s home took everything that was left. The fiancée had already fled by then.’

  Acer’s phone rang. They all quietened. Acer dug it out of his pocket and looked at the display. He answered it, put it on loudspeaker and set it on the table between them.

  ‘Mr Sansom?’

  ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Where’s here?’

  ‘Istanbul.’

  ‘Why haven’t you been in contact? When did you arrive? Your daughter awaits you. Tell me where you are and I can have you collected and brought to Heybeliada.’

  ‘Something cropped up. I have a job to do for someone.’

  ‘A job to do? Is that more important than getting your child back?’

  ‘You don’t say no to these people. Ever.
I’m sure you know what I mean. A week, you gave me. I’ll be in touch before it’s out. And Mr Oktay?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Sansom.’

  ‘Look after my girl.’

  ‘Of course. And I hope to see something on the Internet soon about the discovery of my sister’s body.’

  Acer cut the call and looked at Zeynep. He said, ‘How does it feel?’

  ‘If I was in the same room as him, I’d kill him with my bare hands.’

  Acer said, ‘It might come to that yet.’

  *

  As they were all comfortable and tired, they ordered room service. Waiting for the food and drink to arrive, they talked about what was next for them.

  ‘You still want to go to Syria?’ said Mo. ‘I mean, Aleppo for Christ’s sake. Could it be worse?’

  Acer said, ‘If that’s where she is, that’s where I’m going.’

  ‘How? How will you get there?’ said Mo. ‘You can’t just walk across the border into a war zone, can you?’

  Acer said, ‘There’s always a way. And a country in the turmoil of a brutal civil war has more important concerns than people trying to get into it.’

  Zeynep said, ‘Hundreds of thousands of Syrians have died. Hundreds of thousands have fled to refugee camps in bordering nations. There is a good chance she won’t still be there. And if she is, the way Aleppo has been pounded by the opposing forces seeking control over it, there’s just as good a chance that her neighbourhood, her building, has been wiped out.’

  Acer said, ‘I’ve already made it clear, haven’t I? I’m going to look for her.’

  ‘But that was before we knew where she’d gone,’ said, Mo. ‘Aleppo. Wouldn’t there be less risk if you just went to the island for your daughter?’

  Acer thought about it. He said, ‘It really depends on which part of Aleppo she lives in. From what I’ve seen on the news, it’s not been completely razed to the ground. If she’s not there, if I can’t find her, I’ll have to consider the alternative. But don’t forget, it’s not just about me getting my daughter off that island: there’s Zeynep’s sister and her children. Any attempt to liberate anyone with violence will endanger all their lives. And there is no other way we can think of to get them off that island and believe that we could all live happily ever after without the use of violence.’