shut, she led him up the creaking wooden staircase to the strange eyrie that clung to the side of the old baths' caldarium. The story was that Madame's husband had built this bedroom because he had poor circulation and was therefore always cold. The heat from the caldarium had, so the tale went, made his life much easier. Given the present scorching conditions, Cohen was glad that the baths were no longer in use.
Although it was obvious from the rattling sounds that emanated from the rickety wooden bed that they were in the presence of one who was dying, the pattern of light from the delicate filigreed shutters made Madame Kleopatra, if not lovely, not unpleasant to look upon.
Mina motioned Cohen into one of the chairs beside the bed and then sat down herself. With a smile the policeman took one of the old woman's hands in his and then kissed it.
'You know,' he said looking at Madame but addressing Mina, 'when I was a child Madame used to let me and my brothers bathe here for free.'
'Why did she do that?'
He looked away from Madame just briefly in order to smile at Mina and then he said, 'We were poor, you know. My mother died when we were very small and Dad was just a useless drunk. We moved here from Balat so that the old man didn't have to go so far to get to Cicek Pasaj.'
'A Karakoy story.'
'You have it,' he sighed. 'Well, Dad didn't exactly have a lot of control over us and so, as young boys will do, we went around pretty filthy most of the time. At school we were looked down upon, scruffy uniforms.' He laughed as he looked down at his less than perfect police uniform. 'Until, that is, Madame happened to see us one day. 'Bring those poor Jewish boys to me,' she said to that skinny old eunuch with the gold teeth she'd taken in God alone knows how long before.' 'A eunuch? What-'
'It's a long story,' he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. 'But anyway she led us in, directed us to the men's section and we had a bath. Then before we left she told the eunuch, in front of us, 'You are to let the Jewish boys in whenever they wish and you are to charge them nothing.'' She said it very haughtily, which is what she was like.'
'So when did you last see Madame then?' Mina asked.
'Oh, it has to be thirty years ago now,' Cohen said. 'I know that the baths were closed by then and everyone said Madame was dying.'
'So why are you here now?'
'I was passing and she just stuck her head out of this window.' His gaze drifted across the filigree shutter. 'I raised my cap to greet her and she smiled one of her haughty ones. 'So they made you a policeman, did they, Jew?' she said, and I replied, 'They wouldn't have done if you hadn't cleaned me up, Madame.' Then she scowled. 'Oh rubbish,' she said, or something like that 'They would have had you anyway. You're a clever little man, I could see the brightness in you and your brothers always. And if your police friends should ever say otherwise, you send them to me.' And then she slammed the shutter closed and was gone.'
'Did you ever know Madame's husband?'
'No. Why?'
'Well,' Mina said, 'my mum says Madame had no family of her own but her husband's people should probably be told that she's dying.'
'I have no idea who they are,' Cohen said. He turned back to look at Madame just as she opened her eyes. 'God!'
'No,' the old woman rasped, 'not God.' She lifted up one papery hand and patted the side of his face. 'Come close, Jew.'
Her breath was both laboured and rank and although he knew logically that she was just an old, dying woman, Cohen felt repelled. As she began to whisper, he winced. By the end of her little speech his expression was, however, one of shock rather than repulsion. At first Mina thought it was the rapidity with which the old woman sank back into coma that so disturbed him. But as soon as she saw the policeman whisper inaudibly into the old woman's insensible ears and then jump up from his seat as if scalded, she thought that perhaps Madame had said something shocking.
'What did she want?' Mina asked as she followed his rapidly retreating figure out of the room.
'Nothing,' he said shortly, hurrying down the stairs. 'Yes, but
Just as Cohen drew level with the door to the child's room, the baby began to cry. For a moment, possibly because his head was still full of whatever it was Madame had said, Mina thought that he hadn't noticed.
But she was wrong.
'Is that a baby?' he asked as, uninvited, he pulled the door open.
'Yes,' Mina said, 'it's a friend's. I'm looking after it for her.' Then, pushing past Cohen, she went over to the bed upon which the baby lay wrapped in a pretty gold brocade cover.
'I didn't think you lot often had children,' Cohen observed as he let his eyes drift distractedly around the room. Then, as if to himself alone, he added, 'What a terrible place to house a baby.'
'It's not so bad,' Mina said and held the child protectively against her chest.
Cohen shrugged. Then turning quickly he walked smartly out of the room without another word. As he disappeared, Mina let go of the breath she had been holding and then kissed the baby's head. Whatever Madame had said to Cohen had certainly shocked him. But in the circumstances that was probably a very good thing.
As soon as Suleyman's car disappeared down her drive, Tansu's demeanour changed completely. Whereas her mood had been one of soft conciliation and even at times tearful distress while the inspector was in her house, his departure provoked something far more malevolent.
'I can't believe you agreed to speak that posh boy's words without any discussion,' she snarled at a grey-faced Erol. 'We're stars. We don't just get pushed around!'
'He is a policeman, Tansu,' Latife said as she put a calming hand on her sister's shoulder.
'When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it!' Tansu roared and then hurled herself down at Erol's feet. 'You just say whatever you feel you need to in order to get Merih back, my darling. Don't worry about whether the police are there.'
Had Erol Urfa had any emotional resources left with which to respond he would probably have stroked Tansu's head as was his custom. But he was like stone now. Anxiety and sleeplessness had taken their toll and when he did respond it was with only a very weak smile.
As Tansu covered Erol's leaden legs with tear-stained kisses, Latife felt that the time had come for her to leave. There was no point in talking to either of them in their current moods and besides, if Tansu as she so often did managed to provoke Erol to lovemaking in spite of his own feelings, she did not want to be around. She strode out of the room, her face set and grave. But when she was once again by the swimming pool her mood lightened. She picked up the book she had been reading before the policeman arrived and, with a smile, resumed her studies.
By five o'clock that afternoon the results of the fingerprint analyses had come through. They necessitated the reappearance of Cengiz Temiz in Interview Room 3. A very tired-looking Suleyman observed the trembling man sitting opposite him with something between odium and pity. Coktin, who sat beside his boss, leafed briefly through the documents before looking up again as Suleyman spoke.
'So, Mr Temiz,' Suleyman said, 'I ask you again, where were you on the evening of the eleventh of August nineteen ninety-nine?'
Cengiz Temiz just carried on shaking, his mouth lolling open, soundlessly.
'I do need some sort of answer from you, Cengiz,' Suleyman continued in what he hoped was a rather more conciliatory tone.
Cengiz Temiz's small eyes darted rapidly between the two faces in front of him. Although he did not feel able to admit it, he wanted to go to the toilet quite badly.
'I didn't hurt Mrs Ruya,' he said as he pushed his hands between his legs and leaned forward.
As this was the first thing that Suleyman personally had actually heard Temiz say directly to him, it was quite a breakthrough. It also gave him the opportunity to tackle the man regarding more recently acquired evidence. Before he began he tried to bear in mind what Zelfa Halman had told him about speaking to people like Cengiz. It also briefly passed through his mind what the psychiatrist had said about the chances of someone like Cengiz being able to both plan and execute quite a complex murder. In the face of the evidence, however, he had to put that to one side.
