Sarah Rayne - What Lies Beneath

‘That is certainly possible. Rich Englishmen are often targets for the unscrupulous.’

‘Where is Jamie now?’

‘This is where we have a problem,’ said Raif slowly. ‘We’ve been told that a small group of people on the outskirts of Edirne have him.’

‘You mean they’re keeping him prisoner? But that’s not permitted.’

Raif spread his hands. ‘In wartime rules can change. And we know of these people. They work in secrecy but the Pasha’s men know they exist.’

‘Who are they? How many are there?’

‘In the main they are Turks. There could be a fifty or so of them, perhaps more. Some are guerrilla fighters but all are fiercely loyal to their country and their race. But they are all what I think you would call extremists.’

Extremists. Fierce men – probably also some women – who changed the rules of war. And Jamie, quiet unassuming Jamie, whom Crispian had regarded as a brother, was in their hands.

‘Can we get to him? Get him back here?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘God, man, we must! The British Embassy—’ Crispian stopped, remembering how very isolated they were, how virtually impossible it would be to even get a message to an embassy. ‘Do they intend to keep him prisoner until the war is resolved?’ he said. ‘Until Edirne is no longer under siege?’

‘Mr Cadence, it is not just a matter of imprisonment for your cousin. The people who are holding him follow the old ways of the Turks. And there is a very particular punishment they reserve for spies.’

A very particular punishment.

The doctor’s words went through and through Crispian’s brain as he and Gil made their way to the small square on the edge of the city. Neither of them was sure of their own safety, but two of the Pasha’s soldiers had been rather grudgingly allotted to escort them, which Crispian thought was probably as safe as they could get.

‘Which is to say not very safe at all,’ said Gil.

They had managed to persuade Raif to accompany them, to act as interpreter. At first he had refused. ‘There is too much here I must do,’ he had said. ‘So many injured people who need me.’

‘We need you,’ said Crispian. ‘We need you to interpret for us. Please. If it’s a question of money—’

‘It is not a question of money,’ said Raif coldly. ‘It is a question of who has more need of me and at the moment that is the injured soldiers. Also, I do not care to be seen assisting a spy against my people.’

‘My cousin isn’t a spy,’ began Crispian hotly, but Gil broke in, laying a hand on Crispian’s arm.

‘We’ll do it by ourselves,’ he said. ‘We’re outcasts here, that’s very clear. Somehow we’ll manage, though.’ He turned away, but before he got to the door, Raif said, ‘Wait. That was discourteous of me. I will come with you and I will translate what’s said by the captors. But my name must not be used. These people who hold your cousin must not know who I am.’

‘That’s a reasonable enough condition,’ said Gil.

‘And if, after an hour’s time, you have no success I shall return here, even if I do so on my own.’

‘That’s also reasonable,’ said Crispian.

As they got ready for the journey, Gil said quietly, ‘I thought that would get him.’

‘What?’

‘Our indifference. The implication that we could do it without him.’

‘Thank you,’ said Crispian gratefully.

‘Save your thanks until we know whether we can get Jamie out of this. I should think we can trust Raif, can’t we? To translate everything honestly?’

‘Yes, I think so.’

‘And Jamie?’ said Gil. ‘I suppose there couldn’t be any truth in the charge of spying? Not even the smallest speck?’

‘Not even the smallest speck,’ said Crispian angrily. ‘It’s absurd. Are you ready? We’d better set off.’

But before they could do so, Raif came to them.

‘Is something wrong?’ said Crispian, seeing the expression on the doctor’s face.

‘Later you might think of it as something that is right. I’m sorry, Mr Cadence, but the night staff have just told me that during the night Sir Julius sank into a deep coma. So far it hasn’t been possible to revive him. They have tried and I have just been with him and I have tried as well.’

‘Oh God,’ said Crispian, and for a moment he had to turn away from both the doctor and Gil, because the emotions struggling inside him were almost too much to bear. He put out a hand to the wall, because he was not sure if his legs would support him. Anger and sorrow and bitterness coursed helplessly through him, but after a moment he was able to straighten up and turn back to the others.

‘Is he dying?’

‘I think so.’ Before Crispian could ask the question, Raif said, ‘I think he has a few hours of life left. Not longer than that.’

‘Oh God,’ said Crispian again, and looked at Gil. ‘What do I do?’

‘If you stay here I’ll try to get Jamie freed—’ said Gil, but Raif interrupted him.

‘You must both go,’ he said. ‘These people will take more notice of family. Sir Julius can’t be helped, not by any of us. He’s already far beyond us. Also, I don’t think we will be away very long. Your discussion with the people who are holding him won’t be a lengthy matter.’

Gil said, ‘They’ll either agree to release him right away or they’ll refuse?’

‘Yes. And if they refuse, you won’t be able to change their minds. I think we will be back here in two hours – three at the most.’ In a friendlier voice than he had used since breaking the news about Jamie, he said, ‘Sir Julius is not likely to die until late tonight at the soonest. You will be in good time to be with him at the end.’

It did not take very long to reach the place where Jamie was being held. The Pasha’s men clearly knew the way, and Crispian’s party were taken to one of the old parts of the city.

‘D’you sense we’re going nearer to the fighting?’ murmured Gil to Crispian.

‘Yes, but I think it’s probably because we’re going to the outskirts of the city.’

Buildings huddled together and there were dark, sinister-looking alleyways with archways overhead. Neither Crispian nor Gil had been to this part of Edirne before, and Crispian noticed that the Byzantine influence was stronger than elsewhere. Despite the fighting and the threat of food shortages, the narrow shops still had displays of beautiful, jewel-coloured silks and exotic pottery, and stalls and booths were selling food.

‘Probably not for much longer, though,’ remarked Gil.

Between the buildings they glimpsed the onion domes and minarets of the mosques and prayer halls, and all round them was the strange, unfathomable language. On the air came the distinctive thin wailing that Crispian recognized as either people being called to prayer or people already engaged in prayer. The scents of cooking and exotic spices and oils lay heavily on the air and people looked at them curiously as they went past doorways and shops.

And somewhere in this bewildering maze of alleys and buildings, Jamie was being held by people who believed he had given information to Edirne’s enemies. People who, according to Raif, followed the old ways of the Turks and had a very particular punishment for spies. But what?

As they were led through the streets Crispian tried to imagine what Jamie must be feeling but he was unable to do so.

Jamie Cadence’s Journal, Edirne, 1912

When I think of how I worked out the details finally to destroy Crispian in Edirne, and how I failed, I’m consumed with such fury it almost overwhelms me.

It’s quite difficult to set out a proper account, and earlier, I was aware of nervousness because this is the morning I’ve allotted to describing what happened in Edirne. The day I’ll have to relive the nightmare in these pages. So here it is. The truth.