Barbara Nadel - Arabesk

Suleyman smiled, if a little weakly. 'I'm absolutely exhausted.'

'Then let's go to my office,' Ìkmen said, reaching up to put his arm around his friend's shoulders’

'Your office? I didn't know you had an office at home.'

'I mean the balcony actually, Suleyman. Fate has not, as you know, seen fit to enhance my financial status for some time. But if, like me, you don't mind street dust or the odd exchange with the demented old man next door, then it serves.' As they passed by the door of the kitchen, Ìkmen called out, 'Two teas for the balcony, Fatma, please.'

The female voice that replied was well laced with acid. 'When I'm good and ready, Çetin, and not before.'

'I do have Mehmet with me, my sweet soul’ he added, a look of pure mischief curling across his face.

And his efforts were rewarded.

‘I’ll do it right away,' the same, slightly sweeter, female voice replied.

'You know,' Ìkmen said as he led Suleyman out onto the balcony and then slowly sat down in his chair, 'if you could capture that special something you do to women and then sell it, you could give up policing for ever.'

'At the moment that looks quite appealing actually, sir-'

Both men shared a knowing smile, Ìkmen took his cigarettes out of his pocket and threw one at Suleyman before lighting up himself. Then he settled back in his chair and looked quizzically at his one-time subordinate.

'So Mr-smoking-again-because-now-I'm-a-bigshot, what, apart from the bastard press, the dead woman and the absent child, is on your mind?'

Suleyman sighed before lighting up in what to Ìkmen was a worryingly enthusiastic fashion. 'So you know about Urfa, Urfa's wife, the missing child…'

'Like other mortals, I listen to the radio and I have my sources,' Ìkmen said with a knowing smile. 'Any ransom demands?'

'No. Not yet.'

'Doesn't mean there won't be. Just because a note wasn't found in the apartment, if indeed that is so, doesn't mean that the child hasn't been abducted. If the perpetrator gets off on publicity, a hiatus forcing something like an appearance from Urfa on television could be just what he wants.'

'Or her.' Suleyman smiled.

Ìkmen in response raised his eyes briefly towards the aqua blue sky. 'May Allah strike me down if I forget the women!' Then looking again at Suleyman he asked, 'Is that, seriously, a real possibility?'

'Urfa is, for want of a better term, a sex symbol,' Suleyman said as he drew long and hard upon his cigarette. 'Women want to get near to him, they desire him-'

'Here are your glasses of tea.' Fatma Ìkmen set the small silver tray down in front of the two men. Suleyman was unaware of such things but Fatma, who had recently lost five kilos of fat since her, never mentioned, 'female' operation, was wearing quite a thick coating of recently applied lipstick.

She stood back to look at Çetin's old partner and sighed. 'Ah, but you look so smart!' she said. 'Your mother must be so proud!'

'I'm glad you approve of the suit, Mrs Ìkmen,' Suleyman replied, skating over the issue of his mother's opinions. He had not seen her who had given him life since he had left his wife the previous October. 'It's good to see you again.'

'And you, Mehmet,' she said and then, with a sharp glance at her husband, she added, 'I can't tell you how grateful we all are to have you here-'

'Yes, thank you, Fatma,' Ìkmen interjected and smiled at her through clenched teeth. 'You just go and enjoy the kitchen again for a bit'

The two men left off their conversation for a few moments after Fatma retreated. Quietly they enjoyed their tea, their cigarettes and the unrivalled view Ìkmen's tatty old balcony afforded of the great Sultan Ahmet Mosque, its gardens and its sad royal child-filled tombs.

'Also, Ruya Urfa died by cyanide poisoning,' said Suleyman when the time finally seemed right. 'Forensic are right now exploring the possibility of death by misadventure. But there were no bottles immediately evident that contained such a substance or derivatives thereof and with no suicide note-'

'We are probably looking at a homicide which,' Ìkmen said with a sharp raising of one finger, 'Dr Sarkissian probably feels is particularly ''feminine" in character?'

Suleyman smiled. 'Yes. Have you spoken to him?'

Ìkmen's failure to reply to this was pointed. 'Which is why my earlier discounting of women was so erroneous,'.he said. 'Poison is considered by some, including the dear doctor, to be a particularly feminine mode of despatch. That coupled with copious amounts of envy…'

'You are thinking of Tansu Hamm?'

'Along with the rest of the nation probably, yes,' Ìkmen said. 'Although the missing child adds rather a different dimension, don't you think?'

'Yes.'

'Bitter childless women…' 'Obsessed devotees of Erol's music,' Suleyman added.

'Psychopaths.' Ìkmen drew hard upon his cigarette and then scrunched the butt out in the ashtray. 'Anyone else?'

'We're actually looking for one of the neighbours at the moment,' Suleyman said as he watched two Oriental tourists struggle with their phrase book in the street below. 'Erol's manager claims this man told him about Ruya Urfa's death before he reached the apartment this morning. The neighbour's knowledge could possibly precede both Mr Urfa's discovery of the body and our arrival at the scene. Of course, he could simply have witnessed the aftermath of Erol Urfa's discovery of the body and then drawn certain conclusions from that But until we interview him we won't know.'

'Is this manager person reliable? In your opinion?'

Suleyman put his cigarette out in the ashtray. 'He's loud, theatrical and given to offensively dreadful shirts. But I don't think he would lie about such a thing. I mean, it wouldn't profit him in any way to do so.'

'Mmm. Unless, of course, he's protecting his human investment’ Ìkmen sipped his tea thoughtfully. 'And the neighbour? What of him?'

'According to his parents, Cengiz Temiz is forty-five years old and has Down's syndrome. He has been known to enter the Urfas' apartment from time to time. He is, apparently, rather fond of the baby. When he saw Temiz this morning, Urfa's manager, Ibrahim Aksoy, thinks he may have taken fright for some reason. Çöktin is out looking for him now.'

'If he is Down's you do know that you may have some real problems interrogating him, don't you?'

Suleyman sighed. 'It won't be easy, no.'

'In my experience, which is only small,' Ìkmen said, lighting yet another cigarette and then rubbing his stomach as if experiencing some pain there, 'he's going to be very frightened and very suggestible.'

'Yes.' And then leaning across to look at Ìkmen more closely, Suleyman said, 'Are you all right, sir? I'm not tiring you, am I?'

Ìkmen gave him the sort of look that, unchecked, could possibly curdle milk. 'I'm actually better doing this, as well you know, Suleyman,' he said and then rapidly changed the subject back to something that interested him. 'He'll probably, if my experience is anything to go by, confess immediately. However, if you do need help with that there is always Dr Halman.'

'Yes,' Suleyman said as he turned his head just slightly to one side at mention of the psychiatrist's name. Whether this could be interpreted as evidence supporting current station gossip concerning Suleyman and the rather older female psychiatrist, Ìkmen didn't know. But if his ex-deputy was having an affair with her he was getting rather better at concealing the fact

'Anyway,' the younger man said as he drained his tea all in one draught, 'I must go now. Thank you, sir, for what has been a very pleasant few minutes.'

'The pleasure is all mine,' Ìkmen replied and then looking down towards the floor lest Suleyman see the misery in his eyes, he added, 'I miss both the job and you.’