friends. A small price to pay.” He looked over. “You see why it was so important to find him. Even use Gulun. A matter of state,” he said. “But you kept running. And clever.” He shook his head. “Palestine. Not Greece.”
Leon looked away, unexpectedly pleased. “I thought you would give him to the Russians.”
“Leon,” Altan said, his tone puzzled, as if Leon hadn’t been listening. “We are giving him to the Russians.”
Leon turned, the air around him suddenly still. Nothing moved, boats, waves, everything stopped in place.
“I told you last night,” Altan said. “The Americans don’t want him. Not now. Not if they can use him to trade.”
“To trade,” Leon repeated flatly, no sound at all now, not even birds. In the garden room, Alexei would be writing down dates, asking Ayse for more coffee. “Trade for what?”
“Their man in the consulate. A much bigger fish now than our Romanian. Killing Mr. Bishop. Who next? Maybe you. Jianu’s information, you know, is-how old? Months at least, maybe years. Useful, but not so important as someone still operating inside.”
Leon saw Alexei back in Laleli, extending his hand, squeezing an invisible lemon.
“If he is inside,” Leon said, his voice plodding, one thought, then another. “It could have been-”
“Well, that’s what you’ll find out.”
“Me.”
“Yes, of course. You make the bargain with Melnikov. Who else? I can’t be seen as interfering. Even now, we should be indoors. Who knows if someone is watching?”
Involuntarily, Leon looked out at the water.
“He’s there,” Altan said. “And now another man dead. They have to act. That’s why Barksdale called. Can you help. And of course I knew you must have Jianu. So everything could be arranged. If I got to you in time. And I did.” He turned his hand up, then lowered his voice. “Jianu’s not so important now. This one is.”
“Then why would the Russians trade him for Alexei?”
“No one defects. A matter of principle with them-emotions, even,” he said, correcting himself. “You remember Melnikov at the party? Don’t worry, they’ll trade. They can’t afford to let him go, set an example. The one inside? It’s just a question of time now, before the Americans get him. They have to. But such a mess-looking here, looking there, turning everything upside down. Much easier to have him delivered. Worth throwing Jianu back to get him.”
“Then what was that charade before?” Leon glanced toward the house. “People flying in from Ankara.”
“Leon. Would you rather have him believe that you’re taking him to the Russians?”
Animals were herded through gates, the lining up itself meant to reassure, pacify them, make the rest easier. Something every butcher knew.
“But not before you got a few dates out of him.” Squeezing harder, only pulp left.
Altan shrugged.
Leon looked down suddenly at the wooden slats of the terrace, feeling them about to open, the jolt of a trapdoor, his whole body poised for a second in midair.
“Leon.”
No louder than a faint echo, all sound pulled into some vacuum. On the Bosphorus, a swirl of silent birds were diving for something he couldn’t make out, a fish, something hapless flailing on the surface until it slipped under.
“They’ll kill him.”
“Eventually.”
The birds were regrouping, swooping up, then diving again.
He turned to Altan. “I won’t do it.” His breath ragged, the way it had been holding on to the life preserver.
Altan looked at him, surprised. “Won’t do what?”
“Give him to the Russians.”
“Do you think you are working for yourself? You’re part of this. It’s been decided.” He peered at Leon. “You don’t believe me? I’ll phone. You can ask Barksdale yourself. It’s what they want.”
And suddenly his stomach, fluttering, began to cramp, knowing that he didn’t have to call, that it was true. You’re part of this.
“They’ll kill him,” he said again.
“This is a concern to you? No such tears for Enver, I notice.”
“I didn’t kill him.”
“You’re not killing this one, either. Who are you working for? Him? The Americans want a trade.”
“You do it then.”
Altan shook his head. “Why would I go to Melnikov to suggest this? The man in the consulate is nothing to us- the Americans’ problem. Melnikov will believe you. He already thinks you work for them. And now it turns out-he’s right.” He looked over at Leon. “Isn’t he?”
The logic of it encircling him, the slats holding.
“I was just supposed to pick him up,” Leon said quietly, talking to himself.
“We all think that at the beginning. That it’s easy. So you learn. You can’t be sentimental. About him? You have to think what’s important to you.” He waited. “It’s been decided.” Another moment, staring at Leon now. “I’ve explained you to Barksdale. Bebek, all that business. They trust you to do this.”
Leon stared back, saying nothing. I’ve explained you. And then it was too late. His silence had answered for him.
“Good,” Altan said. “Now, the arrangements. You meet with Melnikov. Let him decide the place for the exchange. Then he won’t be suspicious. But somewhere public. You bring Jianu, he brings their man-interesting to think what Melnikov will tell him, no?”
Lining them up in a stall.
“Make sure it’s somewhere you can have your people waiting. You don’t want to make a spectacle. He’ll be armed no matter what you say, so you too, agree to that. But not his man-or Jianu. No dramatics. They like a formal exchange-start here, you there, a meeting in the middle. Like a duel. Always afraid of tricks. They think everyone’s like them.” He held up a finger. “But soon-today, if possible. I don’t want to keep Jianu here. Anyway, it’s better for them too. Before their man can suspect.” He looked up. “A place where he can’t run, when he sees your people.”
“My people,” Leon said.
Altan opened his hand, an offering gesture.
“But you can’t be involved.”
“Gulun’s men don’t always wear uniforms. But you see them at the door and you know there’s no way out. Melnikov’s men-you won’t even have to guess. Cossacks. Out to here.” He indicated burly shoulders. “Nothing ever fits. A place with exits would be good. Haghia Sophia, somewhere like that. But let him pick. A guarantee for him, that he’s not walking into a trap. They like that.”
“And if they start shooting?”
“They won’t. That would ruin it for the next time.”
Leon looked up.
“One of their men in Washington, I think. You’ll talk to him another time about that trade.”
“A man in Washington,” Leon said, feeling his stomach clench again.
“Well, there always is. More than one. So for a while he’s not sure who you mean, and they all lie low-a good thing for you. If not, he’ll like you thinking there is. But there must be. It’s always safe to play that card. What’s the matter?” he said, taking in Leon’s face. “Ah, did our friend already play it? Always make them think you have more. Leon. How would he know? Do you think they would tell him that?”
Leon looked at the water. People hear things, sometimes by chance. And people lie. He saw the flat in Laleli again, tidy, duffel packed, ready to go, Alexei hunched over the board, plotting moves.
“So, your first meeting. Somewhere neutral. Where Emniyet wouldn’t notice,” Altan said, smiling. “Right under my nose, an innocent encounter.”
“The bar at the Park.”
“Like during the war? Easy days for us. All of you watching each other. No,” he said, thinking. “The Pera. Mrs. Bishop. You’re with her in the bar. Melnikov comes in, says hello-he met her here, at the party-you invite him to sit, she has to go. An errand. Or however you want to arrange that.” He looked over. “You’re good at those things. Try
