But I didn’t care. I had to do this.
I looked up at the wall of Hagia Eirene looming over us like a brick cliff. If you wanted a building to survive seventeen hundred years near an earthquake fault, in one of the most contested cities in the world, this was the way to build it – squat and heavy.
I went down another flight, rounded the corner of the stairs and stopped as if I’d met a glass wall.
Isabel was beside me in a second. The light streaming from the windows of Hagia Eirene way up above us was enough for her to see why I’d stopped. My heart was thumping. This was it.
‘Kiss me,’ she demanded.
Chapter 31
Arap Anach reached into the pocket of his midnight-blue Armani blazer. He pulled his phone out, glanced at the screen. A text message had arrived. He’d read it as soon as he got a chance. An usher was leading him through the wood panelled corridors of the House of Commons. The bustle of the parliamentary staff and visitors pushing past him was annoying him.
The usher stopped at a long stuffed-leather sofa outside a tall brass-handled door. An ivory plate on it read PRIVATE. The sofa looked as if it had been new in the 1920s. There was a lemony smell of polish in the air.
‘Wait here, sir,’ said the usher, motioning towards the sofa. The man Anach was meeting didn’t have his own office. He was using an out-of-the-way meeting room. All this would change soon. Anach sat, looked at his phone, tapped at the screen.
A decrypted message from Malach popped up a few seconds later. Malach had done well. Diagnosis confirms faster outcome than anticipated, read the message.
He imagined the girl slipping into a coma, the look on the doctor’s face when she died, and then… the doctor’s terror at feeling a headache come on, then the lumps growing. He’d know what his fate would be. That would be the worst part.
Many who were about to die would have no idea what was coming for them. They’d line up in hospitals and doctor’s surgeries and pharmacies convinced that modern medicine would save them. And then they would die. And the world would be a better place.
Man, the intelligent animal, was about to prevent his own natural extinction before he reached the point where he’d used up all his planet’s resources.
And then the changes could begin.
The door he was waiting outside creaked open. A young woman bulging out of every part of her black suit came out. ‘Lord Bidoner says to go in, Mr Anach,’ she said. Then she walked off.
Chapter 32
A drum was beating in my head. I hadn’t kissed a woman properly in years. Even if this was a trick, because of the security camera above our heads pointing down at us, the reality of kissing Isabel was more exciting than it should have been.
And there was something achingly familiar about it too. A memory of my first kiss with Irene swirled through me. The smell of Isabel’s skin, her touch, it was all so similar. I pulled away.
‘Sean,’ she whispered.
Our bodies were touching; we were pressed together. Hers was warmer than I’d expected.
‘Don’t get too excited.’ Her tone was playful.
I looked up at the shiny security camera above us. There wasn’t a speck of dust on it. It looked as if it had been put there only last week, at a position where it could observe both the stairs and whatever was below us. And if the camera was on, someone must be watching us.
A new security camera was exactly what I’d been looking for. Now the question was, what would whoever was watching us, if someone was watching us, make of us being down here?
If they were the ordinary security guards for this part of Topkapi Palace, we’d probably be OK. We’d get into trouble for trespassing, sure, but that would be it. But, if it was someone else, the people who’d taken Alek, and they realised what we were up to, we would be in a very different class of trouble.
A kiss was a good excuse for us coming down here. But what Isabel did next was inspired.
She shook her finger at the camera, as if she was admonishing whoever was watching for snooping on us. Then she ran down a few steps, to a point where she was just below the camera, and reached up. It was clear she wasn’t going to reach it.
‘Boost me,’ she whispered. I went down, lifted her at the waist and boosted her up. I couldn’t believe how light she was. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through me.
She wrenched the camera to one side, pointed it at the wall.
‘We’ve got a few minutes, no more,’ she said, as she dropped down beside me.
‘They’ll think we’re making out and send someone to investigate. They’ll probably hope to catch us at it if they can. We better find out what’s down here, and fast.’
At the bottom of the stairs was a heavy, out-of-place looking, red steel door set into the wall of Hagia Eirene. Its only embellishment was a small keyhole set into a brushed steel plate. I pushed at the door. It didn’t budge.
My pulse was still drumming from the memory of that kiss. The knowledge that we had only minutes before someone turned up didn’t help calm me.
I looked back up the stairs. Stars were glimmering faintly. I heard a woman’s voice, high pitched, in the distance.
Isabel had taken her phone out of her pocket. ‘No signal down here,’ she said. ‘I won’t be able to call for back-up if I get this open.’
‘You think you can open it?’ I pointed at the door.
‘It shouldn’t be too difficult,’ she said. She pulled out a set of keys from her pocket and held them up. There were two long bent pieces of wire on one of the rings. They looked like ornaments. She picked one out, held it up, straightened it a little and undid it from the key ring.
‘If I can see what I’m doing.’ She bent down. I watched her back.
‘How often do you do this sort of thing?’ I said.
‘Once or twice a year. We learned all sorts of stuff before we were sent out here. Now sssshh.’
I craned forward to see what she was doing, but aside from her poking methodically at the lock, there was not much to see.
She grunted.
‘It’s a German lock. This is not going to be easy.’
‘What’s wrong with German locks?’
‘They have wafer tumblers.’ She turned and looked at me. The whites of her eyes were visible. ‘Are you going to watch out for the guards or just stare over my shoulder?’
I had to go up two flights of stairs before I could see the path again. Thankfully, there was no one in sight. Maybe the camera was switched off.
A few souls were walking away from Hagia Eirene in the distance. Had we gotten away with this?
I thought about that kiss again, the sweet smell of Isabel’s perfume, so faint, so tantalizing.
The last time I’d kissed a woman was at a party a few months ago. I’d pulled away then. It had felt all wrong, as if I was being unfaithful to Irene. How crazy was I? How can you be unfaithful to someone who’s been dead for two years? It had felt almost as if her ghost was stopping me.
But I hadn’t felt like that this time. It had felt right. Or was I just going crazy?
My heartbeat was almost normal again. I felt detached as I watched the paths leading towards us, as if someone else was doing all this. What was beyond the door?
A distant crunching noise echoed in the warm night air. Something gripped at my insides. I scanned the paths. There! Coming towards us from the main gate, heading straight in our direction, was exactly what I didn’t want to see; a phalanx of maybe ten determined looking security guards. They were still quite distant, but they were approaching fast.
The guards were dressed in olive-green uniforms, which was a good thing. They looked like official Topkapi Palace security guards. But it still felt as if someone had dropped a weight on my chest. Maybe we weren’t going to get decapitated by this lot, but getting arrested didn’t seem like such a good idea either.
The urge to just stare at them approaching, like a rabbit caught in headlights, was strong. But I snapped out
of it and with a jerk of my head, turned, and leapt down the stairs hissing Isabel’s name as I went.
As I came around the last bend, it was disappointingly clear that nothing had changed. Isabel was still poking at the lock.
Did she have any idea what she was doing?
‘Security guards are coming, Isabel. You’ve about thirty seconds. Maybe less.’ My words came out fast.
‘Don’t rush me,’ was her reply, as if we had all day.
I wanted to shout at her. Instead, I let out a short nervous laugh and looked back up the stairs. Everything seemed so serene. All I could hear was the scratching sound Isabel was making and the distant hum of the city. For one long endless moment I thought I must have been mistaken. That the guards were on their way somewhere else. It was possible, wasn’t it?
I listened hard.
I heard the rattle of stones.
Go on, pass by.
But a voice called out in a hard Turkish accent. Someone was calling down to us. I had no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t sound friendly. Then there was a great clattering noise, the sound of people moving on to the stairs above us.
Pebbles skittered wildly. One bounced in front of me. The noise of boots reverberated. Would Isabel be able to get through the door if I held them off for a while? It was time to act. I turned my head quickly.
Chapter 33
The ambulance driver shivered. This was a bad omen. He waved at the police car blocking his path. Its flashing blue light was spinning fast, filling the driving cabin with its electric glow.
He had worked for the Istanbul municipal emergency ambulance service for two years and he had never had to carry such a load before. If he told his wife, she would curse their fate.
No, he would not tell her anything, he decided, as he inched between the police cars, then out of the lane and up the concrete ramp into Taksim Square. No, he would deny he’d found the second beheaded man discovered in the city in less than five days. And he’d claim no knowledge of what he’d overheard that inspector say – that the man was an Iranian biologist who specialised in virus mutation. He didn’t want to know any more. He wanted to go home, to see his children, to eat meatballs and watch game shows on TV.
He didn’t want to know that the dead man had worked with strange viruses.
Everyone knew the Iranians were likely to be developing biological warfare agents. But why had this one been murdered in Istanbul?
Was it an omen? He shook his head. No, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.
Chapter 34
The steel door was open. The brick passageway beyond was lit by a low-intensity yellow bulb. The passageway looked vaguely familiar.
Isabel had stepped inside. I followed her. Cool air passed over me. My skin prickled. Would we be able to get the door closed in time? Would it hold them? It seemed impossible. The clattering was close now, and loud. They were about to turn the last corner on the stairs.
I closed the door behind me. It clicked softly. There was a handle and a round knob above the lock. I turned the knob, heard another soft click. Then I turned it again. It clicked again. At the same time, Isabel was putting the piece of wire into the keyhole, bending it, pushing it up and in. Then she flattened herself against the door.
‘Do you always leave things right to the last second?’ I whispered.
‘Shssssh,’ she replied softly.
There was a reverberating bang. Someone or something had hit the other side of the door. It almost bounced on its hinges. We both moved away from it. Then a shout rang out. It sounded as if the person was right beside us. I leaned against the passageway wall and tried to calm my breathing. The door shook again. Would the lock, Isabel’s little piece of wire, really hold them?
Muffled voices echoed. Someone banged on the door again. Harder this time. Knocking.
I totally expected it to jump open at any moment. Once the lock was open, that would be it. We’d be prisoners. What would we say? Stick to our story. I could hear my breathing, Isabel’s too.
Something sharp struck the door. It rattled. There was a scratching noise like a key being inserted into a lock. Isabel was kneeling in front of the door with her hand up at the keyhole holding the piece of wire into it. Could that hold them? Surely not.
Any moment now.
My desire to pursue this was about to be punished. Even if these guys were only Topkapi Palace security guards, breaking into this kind of place was a serious offence. It had to be.
Isabel held her hand at the key hole. Her hand turned a little. I could see the wire moving in her fingers.
Suddenly there was a shout, as if someone had yelled in frustration. Something banged against the door. It could have been a hand. The wire in Isabel’s hand moved again, twisted. I held my hand on hers, pressing lightly. I felt her hand move once more as someone tried to turn the key again. This wasn’t going to hold them.
But it did. The door didn’t open.
There were more shouts, more rustling, more shuffling. Then more scraping. I had no idea what was going on on the other side, but I could guess. Different people were trying the door. Then there were shouts that sounded like threats, then more scratching. Isabel’s wire was bent, but it had stopped moving, as if it had jammed in somewhere. There was banging again. The door rattled.
It remained closed.
Then there was a rushed clattering, as if everyone on the other side was heading back up the stairs.
We’d done it. I leaned against the wall, relaxing a little for the first time since we’d come down the stairs. I could breathe again. Isabel bent down and looked through the keyhole.
Then she stood and whispered. ‘This gives us maybe twenty minutes. There aren’t too many locksmiths open in Istanbul this late, but I expect they’ll find someone. If they catch us in here, we’ll be in serious trouble. We’ve got to find another way out.’
She looked at me with an expression that was almost pleading.
‘We’d better have a look around,’ I said. I moved down the passage, walking fast.
‘This was your idea,’ she whispered, as she came up behind me.
‘Lets stick to the story that we wanted a bit of privacy,’ I said.
‘Sure, but I don’t think they’re stupid.’
That was when I noticed the block of faded yellow marble set into the wall halfway along the corridor. There was an Arab inscription on the marble. The hair on my neck stood to attention.
‘That’s the Janissaries’ motto,’ I said, stopping at it. ‘I place my faith in God.’
I looked back. There was no one coming through the door.
‘That was in one of Alek’s photos. He was here,’ I said.
The bulb above us flickered and a long forgotten memory came rushing back. As a boy, when I’d behaved very badly, I’d been locked in a basement storeroom. The room had been lit by a faded yellow bulb, just like this. It had flickered. The smell was weirdly similar too, damp and earthy. I’d hated that place.
We continued, moving fast down the gently sloping, brick-lined corridor. A hundred feet further on the corridor turned back on itself. The next section ended in what looked like a storage corridor.
In the far wall there was a rough door-sized opening in a solid brick wall. The opening looked recent. There were dust and brick fragments all around.
Who had broken through this wall?
I looked back over my shoulder, then stepped through the opening, moving fast. The wall that had blocked the passage had been over two foot thick, enough to deter casual investigations. Chunks of loose rubble lay to one side in the next section of the passage.
The walls here were made of pale brick too, but they were cleaner, as if this lower part of the passage had been used a lot less over the centuries. It ran straight, and away from Hagia Eirene.
I had a feeling we were heading in the direction of Hagia Sophia.
Then, without warning, the yellow bulbs hanging from the walls went out. I stopped. A curtain of bl
ackness engulfed us. The darkness felt primitive. Prickling sweat broke out all over me.
‘Wait a second,’ I said, as calmly as I could. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the torch I’d bought in the shop earlier. A shaft of brilliant white light popped out from it, illuminating everything in its beam.
‘Always be prepared, that’s what my dad said.’ I waved the beam around.
‘Not in my eyes, please,’ Isabel hissed. She pushed the torch to one side.
I swung the beam over the faded brick walls around us, the arched brick ceiling above and the shiny stone passageway sloping down in front of us. A red electric cable ran along the bottom of one wall. Someone was working down here.
‘No wonder geo-phys surveys of Hagia Sophia never find anything,’ I said. ‘Reliable readings in this type of ground go to a depth of twenty feet, maybe a little more. We must be thirty feet down already, and we’re not even near the bottom of this.’ The beam of light from the torch illuminated the corridor up to about a hundred feet away. After that everything faded into gloom. Behind us, black shadows pressed in.
‘Thank God for the wonderful Mr Maglite,’ I said, as I set off down the passage. I was walking fast. ‘I wonder where the hell this goes.’
‘I just hope there’s a way out,’ said Isabel.
There were no sounds now, just the noises we were making – the sound of our footsteps on the stone, the rustling of our clothes. The air was cool down here.
I shone the torch beam over the walls as we walked on, looking for anything interesting.
‘This place gives me the creeps,’ said Isabel.
‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’
She put a hand on my arm. ‘Let me have a go.’
I passed her the torch. We walked on, moving fast. The next section of the passageway sloped even steeper.
Then, up ahead, there was no wall on the right. I held my breath as we came up to it. I knew what was happening. The passage was turning into a ramp going down one side of a large underground hall. My notion of space was suddenly inverted. We were above something now, not below it. It was weirdly disconcerting.
The Istanbul Puzzle Page 19