Tears of Pearl

You’ve no need to be involved.”

“And you, Roxelana. Perestu wants you immediately.”

Stricken, she stood, holding my hand as we followed the k?zlar aas?, as imposing a figure as a eunuch could be—tall, with elegant bearing and proud features—towards the palace, splitting off when we reached the entrance to the harem. The sultan, apparently, was waiting for me in a public section of Yıldız. We made our way through long, narrow corridors, made claustrophobic by their ornate decoration: enormous porcelain urns on one side, rows of giant crystal candelabras on the other, stretching from the floor almost to the ceiling, their heavy bases reaching almost to the edge of the runner in the center of the hall. After passing through a pair of inlaid doors, we reached a reception room that might have been found in any aristocratic residence in Western Europe. Heavy curtains hung from tall windows, silk covered the walls, and the furniture was perfectly ordinary. Velvet-covered settees stood along side chairs with gilded arms, and in the center of the chamber was a round sofa, in the center of which was another huge candelabra. It was on this sofa that Abdül Hamit was sitting.

“I bear no good news,” he said. “But felt you should be informed at once. Ceyden’s murderer has been identified. I’ve ordered his arrest and expect him to be taken into custody within the hour.”

“Who is it? How—”

“An Englishman. Benjamin St. Clare, the son of a man I have entertained here—a man you know.”

“Yes, Sir Richard.” I could hardly speak. “I’m more than stunned. What led you to this conclusion?”

“One of the eunuchs came forward. He saw Mr. St. Clare fleeing from the direction of the courtyard and followed, but was not able to catch him. When he heard Roxelana’s screams, he gave up the pursuit, fearing that she had been violated by the intruder.”

“And he’s certain it was Ben—Mr. St. Clare?”

“He recognized him from a previous encounter.”

“He’d been to the harem? How is that possible?”

“No, nothing of the sort. That would not be possible. There was a mishap on a boating excursion. Mr. St. Clare assisted with the rescue and spoke at some length to Jemal after the matter was settled.”

“Why did he wait so long to come forward?”

“He was afraid St. Clare would come after him. I don’t understand how any of this came to pass. I can only imagine that there was some sort of connection formed between this young man and Ceyden—she was one of those he rescued.”

“It’s understandable.”

“It’s unacceptable. But it does prove him to be of weak character.”

“Jemal did not actually see him in the courtyard,” I said. “You said he saw him running near it. How can any of us be certain Mr. St. Clare killed her?”

“He found this near her body.”

I knew before he handed it to me what I would see: the cross Mr. Sutcliffe had given me. Benjamin’s cross. The sight of it sent my head spinning. Of course. It had been taken when my jewelry was stolen. I’d been so upset, I’d not considered it as more than one more casualty along with the rest. There hadn’t seemed to be any connection between the theft and Ceyden’s death.

As I considered what I believed the couple had intended to do the night of the murder, images of the jewelry sewn into Ceyden’s gown returned to me. If she had planned to flee, she would surely have been wearing it. But if she’d changed her mind, telling Benjamin only when he arrived to spirit her off, she wouldn’t have worn it. His reaction to her news might have been violent. And much though I did not want to believe him capable of murder, I knew all too well that when desperate, people turn to terrible things.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” I said, stalling. “I find it impossible to believe.”

“As do I, Lady Emily. I must find out how this criminal gained access to my harem. I begin to wonder if this palace provides any measure of safety.” He creased his forehead. “And I feel I owe you some sort of apology. Had I not stopped you from pursuing your investigation, albeit temporarily, we might have learned this earlier.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I said. “Do you suspect there is a connection to Bezime’s death?”

“I cannot doubt it,” he said. “I do not think we have two murderers running rampant through my palace. I cannot forgive myself for not doing more to prevent it.”

“Do not be so hard on yourself,” I said. “We all can only make the best decisions possible in a given moment. I, too, wish I could have done something.”

“He must have known she had the letters you found on her body,” he said. “And killed her in a vain attempt to recover them lest his sins be discovered. I regret having cut her so thoroughly out of my life. I should have listened to her better.”

“She knew you loved her.”

“I did not pay attention when she told me she was being threatened.”

“Truly, do not be so hard on yourself,” I said. “All you can do now is ensure that her murderer is brought to justice. May I speak to Mr. St. Clare when he’s in custody?”

“It is not necessary.”

“I want to be certain that—”

“There can be no doubt of his guilt.”

“But what of Bezime’s death? There’s no hard evidence to implicate him. We can’t prove he knew she had the letters.”

He nodded, satisfaction streaming from his eyes. “You think you can persuade him to confess?”

This was not at all what I had in mind—at least not in the way he meant. My desire was to learn the truth, regardless of the outcome. If Benjamin was guilty, I would accept that, but if he was not, my task would be to prove his innocence. For now, I could not believe his guilt a foregone conclusion. My body began to ache and my head to throb as dizziness coursed through me.

“It is worth a conversation,” I said, my mouth dry.

“Yes, I can allow that.”

“Thank you.”

“I must know,” he said, crossing his arms and pressing them hard against his chest. “I must know what happened to Bezime.”

Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside, and the k?zlar aas? started for the door. He opened it to find Colin, who stepped forward, bowing to the sultan before crossing to me and kissing my hand.

“Benjamin is gone,” he said, his voice low as he looked into my eyes. “He’s taken all his field equipment and disappeared.”

Chapter 20

“He’s in bad shape,” Margaret said, greeting us at the door of Sir Richard’s house in Pera. “The doctor’s given him a sedative. There was no other option.”

I embraced her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

“Not have to worry about me being completely undone at the sight of my first body.”

“Your first?” I asked. “So you’ve not sworn off the whole business?”

“Not all the way. But I couldn’t pursue it as you do. I’ve not the strength, and at any rate, Mr. Michaels would be too horrified by it all. I’m rather fond of him, you know, and would hate to drive him to an early death.”

“An excellent policy when considering how to treat one’s spouse,” Colin said, bending to kiss her on both cheeks. “Where’s your chaperone? I must say, she’s not doing much of a decent job keeping an eye on you.”

“Back at the hotel. She had a fit of the vapors as soon as she heard about Benjamin.”

“Not, I’m sure, because she feared he was unjustly accused, but because you’d been socializing with his father,” I said.

“Precisely.”

“I spoke to the ambassador,” Colin said. “If Benjamin is located and stands trial, he’s agreed to be his