He nods but says nothing. Julia’s dislike for the man is growing. There is just something off about him.
“Forgive me, Detective,” she says. “But what exactly is being done to find my sister?”
He pulls on his earlobe and studies the ceiling. “We check morgue, hospital, and correctional facilities to see if she arrested in another part of Turkey. This is hard because communication between regions not so good. We also check overland borders. But this takes much time.”
Christine interjects. “And what I can tell you, Julia, is that the embassy is also making inquiries on your behalf. So far we have nothing from intel, but we haven’t utilized all our avenues yet.”
Julia suddenly feels exhausted. There’s so much to absorb.
“Try not to worry,” says Christine. “We’ll keep you up to date every step of the way. Detective, I understand you have some questions for Julia?”
“That is correct,” he says, reaching for the manila folder on Christine’s desk. He takes out a document.
Julia glances at the file and wonders what else is in there.
He looks at the paper. “Your sister travels a lot.”
“Yes.”
“What does she do for money while she travels?”
Julia hesitates. “I’m not sure. Waits tables, cuts hair, probably.”
“Okay.” He purses his lips. “You were foster children. That is hard life, I think.”
Julia feels a tug in her gut. “How did you know about that?”
“US records,” says Christine. “It’s best that we give the Turkish authorities as much information about Toni as we can.”
Detective Muhtar continues. “Your sister returned to United States three years ago. She did not go anywhere for one year. Did you have contact with her when she come back to America?”
Julia’s heart beats a little faster. “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with her disappearance,” she says, carefully.
Detective Muhtar glances up at Julia. “You do not wish to answer?”
“Detective Muhtar is just trying to get a better picture of Toni,” says Christine.
“And I understand that, but that trip back home was over three years ago.”
Detective Muhtar rubs his chin. “Did your sister have a mental issue?”
Julia looks at me. “What do you mean?”
“Was she depressed?”
Julia sits back in her chair. “What are you implying? That she might have committed suicide? Toni would never do that.”
“They’re just discounting possibilities, Julia,” says Leo, trying to be reassuring. He looks at Christine. “Maybe that’s enough for one night.”
Julia shakes her head, irritated. “I’m fine, Leo. Please continue, Detective.”
Detective Muhtar delves into the file, pulls out a photograph, and slides it across the table.
“You know this?”
Julia picks up the image, looks closely. The saturated backpack lies discarded on the sea rocks like a piece of trash. By the looks of the wear and tear around the edges, the backpack had seen a lot of miles, and what was once probably a vibrant teal is now a faded, grubby beige. A tiny knitted Chinese girl doll the size of a key ring, with black plaits and red pajamas, hangs from one of the back straps. Typical Toni. A little girl at heart.
Julia swallows. “Was this it? Toni’s backpack?”
Christine nods. “It was fished out of the water on the rocks on the western side of Galata Bridge.”
Detective Muhtar shows Julia and Leo a drone shot of where the backpack was situated on a sea wall at the opposite end of the ferries and piers.
“And her belongings? They were still in there, along with her passport and wallet?”
“That’s correct,” says Detective Muhtar. “The pack was full of her personal items.”
“Including her phone?”
Christine frowns. “Phone? I wasn’t aware she had one.”
“I bought it for her the last time I saw her. She used it to Facebook, email, whatever. As far as I know she still had it with her.”
Christine turns to Detective Muhtar. “What does it say on the inventory list?”
He scans the file, finds the list, reads. He looks up.
“No phone,” he says.
15
The drive back to the hotel with Detective Muhtar is a silent one. No one is much in the mood for polite conversation, especially Julia. After being dropped off, Leo insists they eat something before turning in for the night. Julia reluctantly agrees so they opt for the tired-looking restaurant inside the hotel and order from the menu. But Julia does nothing except push tomato wedges around her plate.
“We could get them to make you something else,” offers Leo. “A grilled cheese or something?”
Julia shakes her head. “I’m not hungry.”
“The cell phone was a good pickup. Maybe they can triangulate, whatever. Track where she went.”
“Assuming it didn’t simply fall out somewhere.” Julia spears a cube of feta, breaks it in half, leaves it there. “That detective, I don’t know.”
“Oh, he’s all right.”
“I swear I smelled alcohol on his breath.”
“Really?”
She looks up. “There were other signs. Broken capillaries on the nose and cheeks, yellowing of the sclera in the eyes.”
Leo stuffs a lump of lamb into his mouth and chews. “Lots of cops drink. Doesn’t mean they aren’t any good at their jobs. Besides, there’s not much we can do about it if he does. We’re kinda at their mercy. At least there’s Christine Fletcher. She’s switched on. You like her?”
Julia shrugs. “She seems competent, I suppose.”
He puts down his fork and looks at her.
“What?” she says.
“I know you’re used to being in control, but you’re going to have to let the experts do their jobs. Have some trust in other people for a change.”
That stings and she looks away.
Leo stares at her. “Why didn’t you tell them?” he says.
“It’s none of their business.”
“They need to know everything
