Miray takes a sudden left down one of the laneways and drops out of sight.
“We’re going to lose her,” says Julia, pushing her way through the crowd.
“I knew we should not trust her,” growls Detective Muhtar.
They half-jog through the throng of people and turn into the laneway and see Miray waiting for them beneath a neon blue sign in the shape of a wolf, the word Asena emblazoned across the bottom in fancy, looping script. Brisk techno beats leak out from behind an imposing black door.
When they reach her, Miray says, “Let me speak to Clara first.”
Detective Muhtar shakes his head. “Not possible. We are coming in with you.”
“You cannot. She will know you are police. She will not tell you anything if I do not explain first.”
“You are making me wonder about this girl Clara very much,” says Detective Muhtar, eyes narrowing. “It seems she has something to hide. Should I be arresting her?”
Miray bites her lip. “Clara is a good person.”
“You said that about Suleyman, too. You are not the best judge of character, I think.”
Julia shoots Leo a look. She doesn’t like where this is heading.
“Maybe Miray is right, Detective Muhtar. We don’t want her friend to clam up,” says Julia.
Miray glances at the club door. “Clara is from Lithuania. She does not want to go back there. That is all.”
“She’s an illegal immigrant?” says Detective Muhtar.
Miray exhales. “Yes. But she is a good person. She work’s hard to send money home for her little boy.”
“We are wasting time,” says Julia. “Let Miray go in and talk to her friend.”
Detective Muhtar lets out a breath.
“Five minutes only, then we come in.”
33
They wait outside beneath a withering cypress, trying not to look too conspicuous. Detective Muhtar pulls a cigarette from a softshell pack and lights up. Julia realizes she must be frowning because he takes two sidelong steps to keep the smoke downwind.
“What’s with the wolf?” says Leo, looking up at the blue-coated canine above the doorway.
Detective Muhtar follows his gaze.
“The wolf is the holy animal of Turkey. There is a famous Turkish legend that Asena, a she-wolf, found an infant boy and nursed him back to health. Asena was impregnated by the boy and gave birth to ten half-wolf, half-human cubs, from which the Turkic people are born.”
Leo raises an eyebrow. “Sure beats the bald-headed eagle.”
Detective Muhtar glances away and Julia’s reminded of the first time she met him and his aura of lingering sadness. She eyes his wedding ring, thinned out by time.
“Do you have children, Detective?”
He looks startled then rearranges his face to something more passive. “A daughter.”
“Is she involved in police work, too?”
“She died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He grinds out his cigarette. “Yes. It was a great tragedy.” Detective Muhtar looks at his watch. “That is long enough.”
“A few more minutes.”
He shakes his head. “I give her more time than I first said. We go in now.”
Before Julia can object, he opens the door to the club. Inside there’s a dimly lit corridor and a muscle-bound doorman sporting an earpiece. The doorman’s eyes land on Detective Muhtar and remain there. He takes a step to the left, crosses his arms, blocking their path.
Detective Muhtar barks something harshly in Turkish but the doorman’s unimpressed. Detective Muhtar reaches into his pocket and holds his ID up to the doorman’s nose.
“Okay?”
The doorman stares a beat longer then finally steps aside and lets them pass. They walk up the corridor and reach another door, where there’s a smiling hostess in a pink sequined bustier and scarlet lipstick. She opens the door with a flourish and they are instantly transported into another world. A world of crisp Armani suits, bejeweled throats, and multicolored cocktails.
Leo whistles under his breath, looking around. “Beverly Hills, eat your heart out.”
Floor-to-ceiling glass doors lead out to a large, softly lit balcony with a spectacular glass bottom floor. The floor is partially submerged in the ocean, floodlit to enable the best views of the sea life below. Tiny fish dart in all directions. Jellyfish billow. Julia even spots what she thinks is a baby shark. The effect is both mesmerizing and disconcerting and Julia feels mildly seasick.
She drags her eyes away to take in the rest of the surroundings. To the left, there’s a horseshoe-shaped bar, a dance floor, and a large seating area with table and chairs. To the right, low-slung couches provide a more relaxed zone where beautiful women and equally beautiful men recline, sipping exotic cocktails and sucking on bubbling hookah pipes.
Julia can’t imagine what a backpacking traveler like Toni would be doing in a glitzy place like this. Leo nudges her. She follows his gaze. Just west of the bar, Miray’s involved in a heated exchange with a blonde woman.
“Looks like we found our mystery witness.”
34
Clara Domitrovich. Strikingly beautiful. Early twenties. Long blonde ponytail sitting high on the crown of her head. Her sparkling chandelier earrings swing violently as she gestures wildly with her arms. Clara is not happy. She shouts something at Miray, turns on her heel, and slams through a side door.
“Oh boy,” says Leo.
Miray sees them and comes over. “She will not talk to you.”
“Try harder,” says Detective Muhtar.
“I have. She does not wish to be involved.”
“If you want to help your boyfriend, you have to get Clara to talk,” says Leo.
Detective Muhtar nods. “That is correct. Tell your friend we can do this here or I can arrange for her to be sent back to Lithuania.”
Miray looks distraught. “Please, no. You can’t.”
Detective leans close to her. “I can and I will. Go back and get her to talk.”
Miray raises her eyes to the glittering skyline and takes a deep breath. She’s on the verge of tears and Julia feels sorry for her but they need that information.
“I will try again.”
She dumps the dog in Detective Muhtar’s arms and disappears through
