Arabesk

look at the situation from a romantic, for want of a better word, perspective, Urfa does stand to gain by the death of his wife.'

'What do you mean?'

As the traffic queue came to a grinding halt, Suleyman turned to his sergeant 'To free him for Tansu Hanim.'

Coktin, quite unexpectedly, laughed. 'What, you mean marry her?'

'Not necessarily but-’

'She's old enough to be his mother, sir!'

Suleyman bristled. 'So?'

The two men shared a look that informed Coktin that he should not really continue with this line of argument. He looked down at the floor and cleared his throat 'Well, I suppose he might marry her, but… Did he tell you that, sir? That he might marry Tansu?'

Suleyman opened the window of the car and lit a cigarette before answering. 'No,' he said, 'quite the reverse, in fact He said it was his intention to marry another girl from his village, though he said he would still carry on seeing Tansu. But people do lie,

Coktin, and aside from the initial shock that his wife's death gave him I can see very little of the desperately grieving husband in him.'

'Doesn't mean that he killed his wife though, does it? If Cengiz Temiz is to be believed, the assailant was a woman anyway, though I'm not sure we can necessarily believe Cengiz Temiz, can we, sir? I mean, you must admit to being a little wary about his story. There have to be a lot of questions, don't there? I mean, why did he leave his apartment when his parents were out? Why did the 'devil woman' only hiss as opposed to attacking him when he saw her standing over the body of Ruya Urfa? Why was the door left open in the first place? It's too fantastic. We can't take it as absolute truth, can we?'

'No,' Suleyman smiled, 'but nor can we necessarily believe Erol Urfa either. The point I'm trying to make, Coktin,' he said as he gently eased the car forward a few millimetres, 'is that one must always keep an open mind.'

'Well, yes.

'Even when that openness is extended to people of one's own type,' he looked intently at the car in front, 'if you know what I mean.'

He felt, rather than saw, Coktin's anger.

'Oh, so people have been saying that just because Urfa and myself-'

'People have been saying nothing.' Suleyman flicked the ash from his cigarette out of the window. 'But that issue will arise unless you are very careful. The slightest hint of partisanship will be both noted and commented upon. Staying with Mr Urfa in your own time and turning up at the station with him and his entourage later are just examples of this.' Then turning to look at Coktin, he added, 'We must all be totally correct in this matter. If Inspector Ikmen taught me nothing else, he taught me that that is the only way to arrive at an honest solution to a crime.'

'Yes, but you come from wealthy-'

‘I know exactly where I come from, Coktin,' Suleyman said with a hard edge to his voice, 'and I know you know I have not always been popular because of it'

'Yes, but-'

'Every time someone of high birth is either arrested or implicated in a criminal act to which I am assigned, people nudge each other knowingly. I know this.' Then leaning towards Coktin he said, 'But I also know that the only reason I have survived is because I have never given in to partisanship, bribery or the lure of informal little talks with suspects. There are several prominent – families in this city who will no longer talk to me because of my attitude. But I don't care. We are here to ensure that the innocent are protected and the guilty are punished. That is our job.'

'Police work is not always like this,' Coktin said as he lit up a cigarette of his own. He then added bitterly. 'There are people who are completely innocent who-'

'I do not intend to get into a discussion about anything that occurs east of Ankara,' Suleyman snapped. 'Until today I have never even so much as alluded to the differences between you and myself. But you must be careful with regard to Urfa. He is a high-profile person who is watched, followed and regarded by everyone.' With just a quick, sharp look, he added, 'I'm actually looking out for you, you know!'

Coktin mumbled something that could have been thanks but then he moved miserably down into his seat and stared malevolently at the car in front 'You must know that things are different for the poor, whether out in the country or here in the city,' he said. Where my parents come from people burn working in the intense heat of the summer for just a few lira, virtual slaves to corrupt village headmen.'

Suleyman sighed. Although accustomed to being told that he couldn't possibly empathise with the common man, he always felt that the resentment frequently levelled at him personally was misplaced. After all, the last of his parents' servants had been given notice (due to lack of Suleyman family funds) when he was four. And besides, the way Ikmen had always trained him to see things was that if a person were guilty of a crime, that guilt stood regardless of that person's status in life. And the law, if at times only theoretically, agreed. But he knew, sadly, that there was no way of telling this to Coktin right now. He had things in common with Erol Urfa – nationality, age, possibly philosophy of life too.

Coktin didn't want Erol to be a murderer and, in truth, Suleyman felt that it was not really likely. However, as the lead officer in this case, he had to be rational. Coktin, though an excellent policeman, was exhibiting a blind spot with regard to Urfa that was disturbing. It seemed not to extend to Tansu but then that was perhaps to do with her being a woman or, rather more specifically, a very unpleasant woman. In respect of Erol Urfa, however, Coktin would have to be guided most carefully. Either that or watched.

As Suleyman regarded his deputy's sulky face out of the corner of his eye, he decided that the latter option might just be the best course to follow.

Ferhat Goktepe, though well-accustomed to Tansu's frequent rages, found himself completely at a loss with regard to her grief. Earlier, in his capacity as her caring manager, he had taken her to an audition for a part in a new film. Although the production company involved were in fact French, the casting of Tansu was only a formality. Goktepe had sent them enough publicity material to convince them that Tansu was 'big' in her own country, which is what the French had wanted. Big, Turkish, a peasant – all that was fine. But the producer, one Marcel Saint Denis, wanted Tansu not for the love interest in what was essentially a soft porn movie but as the scheming elderly mother of the depraved Sultan. Goktepe hadn't yet told Tansu this. And with her behaving the way she was, he couldn't imagine he would be breaking the news to her for some time.

Goktepe looked from the screaming mass of Tansu on the sofa towards the large unopened bottle of champagne on the table and back again. Ever patient, Tansu's sister Latife and two brothers, Galip and Yilmaz, stood silently behind their sibling's writhing form, looking concerned.

'I'm going to have to speak to Ibrahim Aksoy about this,' Goktepe said as he took his mobile telephone out of his jacket pocket 'Erol must be made to see reason.'

‘I’ll bring him back myself if I have to,' Galip said darkly and placed a protective hand on Tansu's shoulder. 'No one uses my sister and then just throws her away.'

'Exactly,' Goktepe concurred. He punched a number into his telephone. 'Which is why I am going to sort it out' He leaned forward to speak directly to Tansu. 'Don't worry, my brightest star, Ferhat will not let you down.'

But before he could press the send button to make the call, a voice of dissent joined the conversation.

'What you're all forgetting,’ Latife said as she moved round the sofa to sit with her sister, 'is that Erol has gone from here in order both to honour his wife and to preserve the dignity of his child. Whatever we may think, it does not look right for him to reside at the home of an unmarried woman, known to be his lover. I mean, the police could even still be-'

'Shut up! Shut up!' Tansu screamed and took a hard if hopeless swing at her sister. 'I want Erol here and I want him now!'

'I don't think you should have said that,' Galip muttered. He pulled Latife roughly up from the sofa.

The considerably younger Yilmaz looked across at his brother and stuttered, 'D-d-don't you think we sh-sh- should get a d-d doctor?'

Ferhat Goktepe smiled as he finally pressed the send button. 'No need for a doctor to get involved,' he said