Hogarth watched the young man. “Did you kill Baba Sen? Did you beat him to death and fake a robbery to cover your tracks? And then, just to muddy the waters a bit more, did you carve an ‘A’ into the dead man’s head?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“That’s the interesting part. Because if you did, it means two things, first off, you took a hell of a risk. Because when you tried throwing the blame towards Devirim Atacan, you could have set off a chain reaction. In fact, I think you might have already done it. But it also means something else... doesn’t it? Because, Izmir, you did that for a very specific reason. Didn’t you?” Hogarth leaned forward. “I’m beginning to see it all now, Izmir.”
“Tell me. Tell me all your ridiculous theories – you have nothing!”
“Not quite, Izmir. We’ve got this coat. We’ve got that piece of orange plastic. DS Palmer? Have you got the souvenir from the takeaway?” Hogarth glanced at Palmer. “The knife?”
Palmer nodded and took the cheap knife from her handbag. She laid it on the dining table, an uncertain look in her eye. Hogarth glanced at the blade. There was the same foreign word again, Shqipëri, printed in small white letters, right above the handle, just like the ones in the shop below. Hogarth stared at Izmir as he looked at the blade. He let Izmir see the glint in his eye. Izmir stared at the knife and his chin crumpled. “I think you sell these dodgy imports downstairs. You pass them off as Turkish goods, like all the rest. Can you guess where DS Palmer found this one, Izmir? In fact, I think you led her right to it...”
Hogarth reclined, grinning.
“Then we’ve got your flimsy alibi. We’ve almost got you, and you know it...” Hogarth buried his remaining doubts out of sight.
“You had a very good reason to throw the blame onto the Atacans. Which I thought odd at first, seeing that one of them works here... I wondered if it was jealousy. Daddy loves Dev Atacan more than me – something pathetic like that. But then I found out a little more. It isn’t just because you’re such a brave freedom-fighting hero, is it? There’s another purely selfish reason at work. Now it all makes sense.”
The door was knocked, and in came Miray. She was holding an old-fashioned brown fake-wooden tray with a golden coloured plastic rim. There were three steaming mugs on the top. She glanced at Izmir, and then she looked at Hogarth. Izmir gave her a long look. Hogarth looked at each of them and watched Miray’s smile falter. She blushed. Hogarth gave her a stare which made her blush deeper still.
“I made you English tea, not Turkish,” she said, her voice faltering. “I hope it’s okay.”
“As long as it’s not ginger...” said Hogarth with a smile. He checked to see Izmir’s reaction. But he stayed stony-faced. Izmir’s face didn’t flicker at all. The joke didn’t register. Interesting... Hogarth took his tea. Miray hesitated a moment more before she withdrew in silence.
“I’m on to you, Izmir,” said Hogarth. “From now on, it’s only a matter of timing.”
Izmir struggled before he was able to summon a bitter smile of his own.
“And you say this every time I see you, but still you haven’t proved a thing.”
“The unknown number,” said Palmer. “I know who it belongs to,” and she emphasised the word heavily. “Think about it. Istanbul S won’t be able to protect you. Not unless he exposes his identity and comes to England to testify. And he won’t do that, will he?”
“If the state forces find him, they will make him disappear.”
“Then you’d better tell your other friend to speak up for you and do it quickly. Before we charge you.”
Hogarth stood up. “DS Palmer is right. If you have any kind of functioning alibi at all, now is the time to prove it. Your time is almost up.”
They heard a flurry of noise as feet climbed the stairs outside. This time the door wasn’t knocked. It was thrust open, and old man Yuksel barged in, red-faced with indignation.
“That is enough. You will not interrogate my son in my own house! Izmir, these police can go to hell! Tell them nothing! Nothing at all. We’ve committed no crimes. We’re innocent! They can prove nothing. And they had better not fix anything against us...”
“Enough of your threats, Yusuf. You’re enough to give me a headache. As for not committing any crimes, well, we can prove all sorts of things. And I think some might even surprise you. What do you say, Izmir?”
“Get out! Get out of here now,” said Yuksel.
“We were just leaving. But I will be back. I’ll be keeping this too, if you don’t mind...” Palmer gathered the knife into her handbag and looked accusingly at Izmir. Hogarth raised Izmir’s jacket, folded over his arm in a goodbye gesture, and he walked down the steps slowly. Miray stood on the landing, watching him go. She shook her head, denying responsibility for the old man’s sudden appearance. Hogarth nodded, but his latest insight had given him grave doubts. Izmir had never liked it when he saw Hogarth paying Miray attention. And then there was the badly carved ‘A’ on Sen’s head. Two birds killed with one stone... Izmir was a dark horse indeed. He left Miray watching him as Palmer slipped past old Yuksel in the doorway. Palmer flicked her eyebrows at Miray and nodded to the stairwell. She mouthed “I need a word...”
Miray bit her lip but nodded. The old man disappeared into the dining room and slammed the door behind him, and then an argument started in loud Turkish.
Palmer and Miray walked to the foot of the stairs. Miray leaned out into the shop, before withdrawing back inside.
“What happened in there?” whispered Miray.
“I thought you would have heard, to be honest,” said Palmer.
Miray shook her head.
“I can’t go into it, Miray. But I hope it will be over soon.”
Miray didn’t look comforted.
“Over for who?” she said.
“For everyone,” said Palmer. “Now, I’m going to ask you a very important question. It’s about Izmir, and someone else.”
“Please, DS Palmer. Izmir... he’s not like his father. I think he is trying to be a better person.”
Palmer nodded. She didn’t add that Izmir was almost certainly a lying scumbag who had probably attacked her in the shop. If Izmir was as devious and secretive as they believed, Miray might not have known even half of it.
“If you believe that, Miray, then you may be able to help him before he gets into even deeper trouble.”
Miray tugged at her necklace.
“What do you want from me?”
“You say Izmir is trying to be a better person,” said Palmer. “Do you know about his political activities?”
Miray gave a sheepish nod of the head. “He cares about the people in Turkey, this I know.”
“And you know he’s involved in helping them?”
Palmer’s words drew another nod. Bingo.
Miray, we know he has another political contact here in the UK. I think I know who they are. Izmir’s alibi for the murder of Baba Sen depends on that contact coming forward to back up what Izmir told us. If they don’t, his alibi will fall apart. And if that happens Izmir will go down for murder.”
“What? But he couldn’t have done it, DS Palmer?! It’s just not in his nature. He hates any kind of injustice, anything like that at all.”
“But he has to prove it. Izmir says he was on a video call between him and two others at the time the man was killed. One of those contacts is unusable – they live in Turkey. But the local one could yet reinforce his alibi – but only if they come forward.”
Palmer looked the woman in the eye. “You know who they are, don’t you, Miray?”
The woman nodded slowly. “Izmir and Ahsen Sen. They are partners in this work. But it’s a sworn secret. They have been working to help the people in Turkey for months now. But you see how it is here for Izmir. And I think for Ahsen it is the same.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have heard them talking, Izmir and his friend. Izmir is under pressure, but so is Ahsen. Ahsen kep
t his work secret from his own family. But Ahsen is a Sen. Make no mistake, Yusuf hates all of that family. Baba Sen bad-mouthed him to everyone. He hates the grandfather, the son, and Ahsen too. It’s in the blood for Yusuf. He holds grudges. If Ahsen comes forward and shows Izmir has been working with the enemy in any respect at all, Yuksel will have no qualms in punishing them. Ahsen will be in great danger.”
“What? Why?” said Palmer.
Miray looked pained and conflicted. “If he thinks Izmir has been sharing family secrets with one of the Sens... he’ll have no qualms in getting Ahsen killed. I know he will. I think Izmir has always known this. Their politics are noble, but it also has them both trapped. You say he needs Ahsen Sen for his alibi? But the moment he mentions sharing his secrets with one of the Sens, the old man will only see the implications. Then the young Sen is as good as dead.”
“You think Izmir knows this?” said Palmer.
“Of course – he must. But now you’ve given him no choice, have you? Ahsen is an idealist. I think he’ll probably come forward if you say he must, but then his neck will really be on the line. That poor family.”
“It’s a trap, DS Palmer. One in which we’re all snared.”
Palmer’s face turned solemn. She left Miray to pick up the pieces as she walked through the shop, mentally working her way through the problems ahead. The case needed Ahsen to come forward – to prove the link between him and Izmir. But proving the link meant he might be killed soon after – almost certainly before he had the chance to testify. But his testimony was needed all the same. She saw Hogarth pacing outside the shop window. The DI seemed downcast, which was odd. He must have seen that they were close to cracking the case.
“Guv?” said Palmer, as she walked out to join him.
“You took your time,” he said.
“I was talking to Miray Atacan.”
“Oh?” Hogarth sighed.
“She knows Ahsen Sen and Izmir Yuksel have been working together in a political project with Istanbul S and others. I think she’s known for a while.”
“She’s known a lot of things she’s not told us until it suited her. I know she had her reasons, but still. Ahsen Sen and Izmir working together on this? I had him down as a sulky little brat.”
“He’s more than he seems, guv. A lot more.”
“How did you work it out?” said Hogarth.
“Just a hunch. Ahsen said about his interests in Turkish politics, said he was an activist. Then I saw he had another mobile phone besides the one he was using. It seemed to fit. The rest was guesswork.”
“They’re linked. Good. That sounds very promising, doesn’t it? Maybe that explains a few things we’ve yet to understand. All we need to do is make sense of the poison, and it’s case closed, eh?”
“’Fraid not, guv. We’ve got a big problem. I said Izmir should persuade his unnamed contact to reveal themselves, to prove his alibi.”
“That alibi’s still as flimsy as a piece of string.
“Isn’t it? And by using Ahsen Sen as his alibi...”
Hogarth nodded. His face brightened. “Izmir makes it look even worse... Good work, Palmer. Think he’ll do it?”
“Miray says he will.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
“Yusuf Yuksel. Miray says as soon as Ahsen comes forward and says he’s been working with Izmir in secret, Yuksel will order him killed. He hates the Sens, and he’ll be worried about what else Izmir has told him. Think about it, guv. I think she’s right.”
“But old Yuksel doesn’t know yet?”
“Probably not. I can’t see Izmir telling him if it’ll cause such trouble.”
Hogarth brooded on it. “We need Ahsen to come forward to close this case. So long as Yuksel doesn’t know, no one’s in danger. So we stand by and let Izmir talk to Ahsen. We wait for Ahsen to tell us all and then, if Yuksel wants to harm the boy, we’d best be ready to shield him when the time comes. Any idea when that might be?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said.
“Then we’ll need to be on our toes.”
Palmer nodded. Nerves began to prickle her hands and burn inside her stomach. It seemed she’d made a smart move... but seeing she’d unleashed a chain reaction, Palmer wasn’t sure she’d been as smart as she thought.
“Palmer, did you pick up on the vibe between Izmir and Miray?” said Hogarth.
Palmer snapped out of her nosediving mood.
“Vibe?”
Hogarth nodded. “It took me a while, but I worked it out. They’re an item. A secret item.”
Palmer paused, considering the question, and what she’d heard. “Does it matter?”
“In terms of the murder? I’d say she doesn’t know about that. But it does add another motive for the letter ‘A’ on Baba Sen’s head. In terms of everything else?” Hogarth shrugged. He thought about his drink with Liv Burns. “No, I don’t suppose it does.”
Palmer brightened. But when she remembered the fuse she’d just lit, her mood soon changed.
Twenty-three
Day Three.
The fires had been set and stoked, now it was time to sit back to see if the fire took. It needed watching closely, but little could be done until Ahsen and Izmir came forward with their newly reinforced alibi. The rest of the second day drifted without any news and all the while Hogarth watched Palmer worrying about what she’d done. The third day started the same way and as the hours passed, the tension among the team grew. By lunchtime Hogarth had analysed Baba Sen’s financial transactions and had constructed four loose theories about where the four grand had gone and why. But he dismissed most of them just as quickly. Duzeltme meant corrections – which meant what exactly? Had religious Baba Sen paid a mosque or a mystery woman to atone for some past secret sin? Or was it a penalty or fine paid to the Turkish government? Then there was the mysterious one-way plane ticket... and Fada had evaded them all. Baba Sen remained a conundrum. A conundrum Hogarth would be almost content to bury, so long as he could arrest Sen’s killer before the day was out. Hogarth remained hopeful, but Baba Sen’s financial transactions still gnawed at him. They had to mean something, but it was no good discussing the matter with Palmer. She heard him, but he saw her thoughts were elsewhere. Hogarth knew it was guilt, fear, and stress. She’d thrown the dice and taken a chance with Izmir and Ahsen, and now there could be consequences.
“Sue... you only did what I would have done. Cut yourself some slack,” said Hogarth.
“I’ll cut myself some slack if we manage to keep Ahsen away from trouble.”
“If he’s in bother, it’s only self-made.”
Palmer sighed. “Either way, we had a hand in it.”
“It’s what we get paid to do,” Hogarth said with a sigh.
He folded his arms behind his head and glanced at the clock. “I thought they’d have made their move by now. Maybe our friend Izmir needs a push.” Hogarth picked up his mobile and flicked through the pile of notes on his desk until he found the number he needed. He squinted at his phone and typed a brief message. He hit send then handed his phone to Palmer to read it through.
“There. That should do the trick.”
Palmer scan-read Hogarth’s message. “Izmir. DI Hogarth here. Not heard from you yet. Time’s running out. Get moving with your alibi.”
“Subtle as a brick. Not very orthodox policing is it? Texting your main suspect?” said Palmer.
“Subtle as a brick and unorthodox? You just love me, don’t you?” said Hogarth standing up.
“What now?” said Palmer.
“I can’t do this anymore. Hanging about here, looking like a wet weekend. Let’s go and see if our text did the trick.”
As they walked out through the office, Simmons glanced their way. He was standing beside PCSO Kaplan by the cluster of desks devoted to Neighbourhood Team. PC Yarrow, the PCSO manager, was seated at one of them.
“PC Yarrow!” called Hogarth. “Looks like you’ve got another new recruit.�
�� He nodded at DC Simmons and Yarrow chuckled. PCSO Kaplan hid a smirk. Simmons shook his head.
“Keep your phone on, Simmons. We might need you,” said Hogarth as they strode out of the room.
HOGARTH HAD PARKED up beside the busy tyre fitting garage on the corner of West Road. It turned out to be a good move. The tyre firm were receiving a delivery; a gang of youths in dirty grey overalls were busy bouncing tyres down from the truck trailer to the street before carrying them into the garage. The activity provided decent cover for their position with a good view into the front window of Yuksel’s Cash and Carry just across the street. Hogarth’s phone buzzed. He bit his lip as he pulled the thing from his pocket. Thankfully it was Liv Burns calling. Hogarth cleared his throat and answered the call.
“Liv? What’s up?”
Hogarth’s tone of voice took Palmer by surprise. It was friendly. Very unusual.
“Joe, you wanted access to the last crime bulletin that was sent to your DCI Melford, correct?”
“If that’s what they call them.”
“That’s one name for them, there are others. Including ‘boring as hell’. I’ve had the last two copied and sent to your inbox. I hope you find whatever you’re looking for.”
“So do I, Liv.”
“So then, when do I get my drink?”
“Soon as you want, Liv.”
Palmer frowned at the overly familiar chatter and looked out of the window. Hogarth gave Palmer a furtive sideward glance.
“I’ll hold you to that,” said Burns. “Maybe you could show me the sights in sunny Southend. I don’t think I’ve been down that way.”
“If you like,” said Hogarth. His weekend was sounding better all the time.
“Good. I’ll be in touch soon then. Be good now.”
“No promises there, Liv,” said Hogarth.
Liv Burns hung up and Hogarth settled down.
“What was all that about?” said Palmer. Hogarth thumbed the screen of his phone. He looked coy.
“I just wanted to check on something Melford told us. My old Met friend said she’d help out. Just a minute.”
The Secret Fear Page 30