Arabesk

'About his work and his cyanide?'

Suleyman smiled. 'Yes,' he said, 'and also about wasps. The Emins had a problem with wasps a little while back, I believe.'

'Mmm. And with Miss Latife, as Beikis told us, being so keen on gardening…’

'Oh, yes,' Suleyman said as he picked his car keys off his desk and put them in his pocket, 'she did say that, didn't she? Makes you wonder whether her interests extended to disposing of pests, doesn't it?'

Strangely, for Tansu, she had been very quiet during the journey back to Yenikoy. Yilmaz had thought that even with the lawyer in the car she might still rail at him. But she did not Perhaps she had come to terms now with the fact that Erol had deserted her -or maybe her interview with the police had been so horrendous it had robbed her of speech. He still felt bad about having been the cause of her ordeal in the police station. The Emins had always been staunch and faithful to each other – until now – and he had no doubt that at some point recriminations would follow. But for the moment he just sat back and enjoyed the fading of the fierce sunlight and the coming of the slightly cooler evening breezes. The Bosphorus was, he thought, probably at its most beautiful at this time of day, when its blues and whites were just touched by the gentle coppery tones of sunset If only he still had little Belkis to share such moments with, but there.

Latife and Ferhat Goktepe strode into the hall to. meet a tense-looking Galip.

Still silent,.Tansu then entered the house, followed by Yilmaz and, until the singer dismissed him, Adnan Oz.

'You can go back to your office now, Adnan,' she said as she mounted the steps to her front door. ‘I need to be. alone with my family.'

'Ah, but-'

'I will call you when I need you!' she said commandingly and turned on her heel and entered the house.

Yilmaz shrugged at the rather taken aback lawyer and followed his sister who, now in the hall, was saying something very similar to Ferhat Goktepe.

'But Tansu, my darling,' the manager was saying, 'if you do need anything, anything at all, you must call me.'

'Yes, yes.' Distractedly, or so it seemed to Yilmaz, she patted her manager on the arm and gave him a small smile. 'But please go now, Ferhat,I need to be alone to

'Yes, of course, my soul,' he said as he kissed both her hands several times over. 'I do understand, I-'

'Ferhat, please!'

'I'm going! I'm going!' Which he did, blowing kisses to his most lucrative star as he went

Tansu, followed by Yilmaz, walked into the large, pale living room where Galip and Latife were waiting for them.

Tansu crossed the room in order to get herself a drink, then moved back to the door which she slammed on the outside world with some vigour.

Although Suleyman hadn't formally dismissed Ikmen, he had not asked him to accompany him to Besiktas. So, try as he might, it was difficult for Ikmen to carve a role for himself in the current round of activity. And besides, there was still Fatma to contend with; she would be furious at his breaking doctors' orders. There was also Madame Kleopatra Polycarpou's funeral tomorrow morning. Somehow he would have to try and persuade his angry wife or even one of his moody daughters to press his best suit for the occasion. Unlike Cohen, who was also due to attend, he did not have the luxury of still being in uniform.

As he made his way down to the reception area, Ikmen once again pondered why Madame might have killed her husband, the eunuch. Sexual jealousy, surely, could not have come into it, and marital violence, another favourite when it came to homicide, was unlikely. Murad Aga, to his recollection, had always seemed to be completely under Madame's control. He always looked as if he adored her. Perhaps the motive was monetary. It was a thought, seeing as people always said that the hamam did in fact belong originally to Madame's husband who they now knew was none other than Murad Aga. Still, with all the protagonists in that little saga now well and truly dead, Ikmen's thoughts upon this were more along the lines of interested speculation rather than active inquiry. And anyway, more pressing concerns were afoot now. His other cigarette packet, which he hadn't given to Cengiz Temiz, was completely empty – a situation that needed urgent attention.

At the front desk, however, something much more interesting from the point of view of the current case confronted Ikmen. Erol Urfa, complete with baby Merih in a car seat plus someone who looked like an attendant drunk, was talking anxiously to the duty officer who was, in this case, Kaya.

'So how long is Inspector Suleyman likely to be?' Erol was asking as Ikmen approached the scene.

'I have no idea, sir,' Kaya replied. 'Perhaps you would like to wait'

With the aid of a slightly disgusted sniff at the swathes of cigarette smoke that were emanating from a cloth- capped individual who was also waiting for somebody or other, Erol said, 'Well, I'd rather not really. Not with the baby…'

'Quite right' the drunk at his shoulder agreed somewhat volubly. 'Not one of your better ideas, my dear Erol.'

'I'd really rather you were quiet now, Ibrahim,' the singer said, turning, rather sharply on his companion.

As he drew level with the party, Ikmen briefly made eye contact with Kaya before he said, 'Is there anything I can do for you, sir?'

For a moment, Erol Urfa looked at Ikmen with a puzzled expression on his face. It made the inspector feel as if he were some strange type of fauna the singer had not previously encountered.

At length, Erol said, 'Who are you?'

'My name is Inspector Ikmen. I work with Inspector Suleyman.' Ikmen smiled. 'You are, of course, Erol Urfa, are you not?'

'Yes.'

Ikmen offered his hand which Erol took.

'Is there anything I can help you with?'

'Well, I was really hoping to speak to Inspector Suleyman,' Erol said as he looked down at the baby who appeared to be stirring.

Ikmen sighed. 'Well, he's likely to be some time. You are welcome to wait in my office if you wish.'

'Oh, I don't think we want to do that, do we, Erol?' the drunk said unsteadily. ‘I mean…'

'Well, you don't have to stay if you don't want to, Ibrahim,' Erol said, turning to the man with a taut expression on his face. 'But I would rather-'

'You know you're committing fucking professional suicide, don't you!' the man said loudly. 'In my-'

'And I think that you've had far too much to drink to be in a place like this,' Ikmen said as he took hold of the man's arm and started to move him towards the door.

'Hey! Erol is my-'

'Erol and the baby will be quite safe with me,' Ikmen said to him firmly as he propelled him forwards. 'You just go and sleep it off somewhere, yes?'

'I'll wait for you in the car, Erol!' he said over Ikmen's shoulder. 'Don't say anything stupid, will you?'

'I'm sure he won't,' Ikmen said with a smile.

The man, now out in the street, wobbled off in several different directions before finally settling upon a chosen course.

As Ikmen returned from the doorway, Erol said, 'He means well.'

Tm sure he does.' Ikmen said, bent down to smile at the waking baby. 'Come on, let's get you to my office.'

He led the way across the reception area and up the two flights of stairs to the offices. As they mounted the second flight the sound of Ikmen's coughing was augmented by small whimpers from Merih.

'I think she probably needs a feed,' Erol said.

'Uh,' Ikmen replied, the grunt being the only noise his congested lungs could manage at this point

At the top of the second flight, while Ikmen gasped painfully for air, Dr Irfan Akkale closed the door to the corridor behind him and made to descend the stairs. Until he saw Ikmen. Peering closely into the inspector's greenish-white face, he said, 'What are you doing here, Ikmen? If you have a coronary here when you should be at home, I take no responsibility.'

'Yes, Dr…' Ikmen gasped.