They bowed to one another. Just as Yashim turned to go, the imam turned his face to the window.
“Sufic mysteries,” he said quietly. “Beautiful in their way, but ethereal. I don’t think they would mean much to the ordinary people. Or perhaps, I don’t know, too much. There’s a lot of passion, and even faith, in this kind of poetry, but in the end it doesn’t suit the believers. It’s too free, too dangerous.”
I don’t know about free, Yashim reflected.
But dangerous, yes.
Certainly dangerous.
Even murderous.
[ 30 ]
He saw her swinging down the street, tall and graceful and challenging the men to stare. A few yards from him she slowed and began to look around.
He put up a hand and waved her across.
She dragged back a stool and sat down abruptly. A group of old men playing backgammon at the next table rubbernecked with obvious stupefaction; but Preen didn’t notice, or care.
“Coffee,” she said.
Yashim ordered two, avoiding the tray boy’s curious stare. Not for the first time in his life he wanted to stand up and explain. She’s not, in fact, a woman, so everything is as it should be. She’s a man, dressed as a woman. But he admired her courage in coming to the cafe. He nodded grimly at the old men.
With scarcely a trace of make-up, the flush in Preen’s cheeks was real: she looked, Yashim thought, better for it.
“We can’t talk here,” he said. “I’ll cut along home, and you can join—”
“We’ll talk here,” she replied through gritted teeth. The boy served the coffees, and began to flick a duster over an adjoining table. Yashim caught his eye and jerked his head. The boy sloped off, disappointed.
“I’ve got reasons for discretion, Preen.”
She drew breath through her nose. Her chest heaved.
“Such as?”
He looked at her. “You’re looking good today,” he said.
“Cut it out.”
She sounded tough, but she kept her eyes on the table and moved her head slowly from side to side. A trace of pleasure.
“It’s better if we’re not seen together at the moment. It’s my job to blend in, to slip by unobserved. As for you, well, I’m not sure what we’re into here.”
“I’m a big girl,” said Preen. Her lip quivered. Yashim grinned. Preen covered her mouth with a hand and shot him a look. Then she giggled.
“Oh, I know I’m naughty, sweetie. I just couldn’t help it. I had to do something a bit wild, see someone I like. Shock them, too. To feel alive.” She let a shiver of pleasure run through her body. “’ve been talking to Istanbul’s most disgusting man.”
Yashim raised his eyebrows.
“I’m amazed you can be so sure.”
“A hunchbacked pimp, from the docks? I’m sure. He says someone saw your friends the other night.”
Yashim leaned forwards.
“Where?”
