When I woke up the next morning, at an hour ordinary people refer to as “the afternoon,” I felt like a sharp blade had pierced my forehead, entering just below my right eyebrow. I pulled back the thick curtains; bright winter sunshine filled the room. A wonderfully crisp day, the kind that brings joy and energy! I sighed contentedly. Pity about the headache. Such things simply should not be on a day like this.
On the way to the bathroom I ignored the flashing light of my answering machine. Whoever had called at such an early hour deserved to wait. First I’d enjoy a long shower and the sumptuous breakfast offerings laid in by Ponpon. Followed by a couple of Advil, if required. The brilliant blue sky urged me to find an outdoor spot to warm my bones and to spend the rest of the day lazing about.
Wrapping myself in a robe, I began fixing breakfast. Flitting across the floor on tiptoe amused me, as well as minimized contact with the freezing tiles. As the bread toasted, I switched on one of those determinedly dispassionate but in fact utterly partisan twenty-four-hour news channels. One simply must remain abreast of current affairs!
Only watched bread toasts just right, so I turned up the volume and returned to the kitchen. I listened to the latest on the financial markets: international stock market closings; dollar, euro, and yen parity; and fluctuations in oil and gold prices. The information did nothing for my pounding headache, but still I listened. I am not the sort to surrender to pain.
When each slice had begun to turn a golden brown, I flipped them over: I like my bread toasted on both sides. The market reports, so avidly followed by the good people of our nation, ended, and the regular news began.
I couldn’t believe my ears. The female presenter failed to repress the thrill in her voice as she announced: “Leading financial consultant Faruk Hanoğlu has been killed in an unfortunate accident.”
I rushed back out to the living room. The news account was accompanied by stock footage of Faruk Bey, tensely holding forth on the consequences of foreign direct investment. Looking more unpleasant than ever in a tailored suit that did nothing for her complexion, the presenter droned on in a small window in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen: Faruk Bey was fifty-three years old, had been educated abroad, and had served as a financial consultant for many years. He had recently been arrested for murder but was subsequently cleared of all charges.
No additional information about the “unfortunate accident” was provided.
The smell of burning bread had me racing back to the kitchen. It had happened again. I’d turned my back for a moment and the last two slices of bread had turned to charcoal. Shortly after my visit, during which I’d been outrageously mistreated, Faruk Hanoğlu had died. And how? An “unfortunate accident.” Whatever that meant!
The stabbing pain just above my right eye suddenly spread to my entire forehead. I’d scared myself: Surely I couldn’t have called down a curse on the late Faruk… Or could I have? No, I was being silly.
I didn’t know whether to blame the headache on the news of Faruk’s death, on an empty stomach, or on having spent such a long night in the stuffy smokiness of the club. I definitely needed an Advil. After downing half a glass of cold milk to coat my stomach, I took two. I would remain seated until I felt better.
I tore to shreds a now stale slice of cake made by Ponpon, reduced the shreds to crumbs, and unenthusiastically chewed as much as I could as I sat there in the kitchen. The tiles were freezing, I was getting cold feet, and things were getting more complicated. I couldn’t find rhyme or reason for the seemingly random series of events in which I was now hopelessly entangled.
First I needed more details about the “unfortunate accident.” I nearly called Selçuk, my police connection, but thought better of it. Pestering him every time I had a question, particularly when it had nothing to do with his job at the force, didn’t seem fair. I decided against it. Then I remembered Olcay. These days he was working for that insipid twenty-four-hour news channel. Once upon a time we had enjoyed intimate relations for an entire weekend. His career had since taken off.
I dialed his number at the network and was connected almost immediately. So, he was not yet important enough to warrant five layers of screening.
I told him who I was.
“What’s up, girl? Where you been?” he began. It is a manner of speaking I detest. I even considered hanging up on the spot.
“Oh, I’m around. And fine,” was my terse response. “What have you been up to? How are you?”
“I’m around too, my rose… So you’re alright then?”
He hadn’t changed a bit. Even that single weekend had been overlong.
“There’s something I need to ask you,” I said. “I missed the cause of death in the piece you just ran on Faruk Hanoğlu. I knew him, you see, and I can’t believe this happened!”
“My condolences,” he said, a note of respect creeping into his voice for a moment. “Just a sec, babe. I’ll find out for you.” Put on hold, I was forced to listen to whatever the channel was broadcasting. The experience was not unlike one of those brainwashing scenes in cold war films.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long. There are no more details. The police reported an ‘accidental death.’ That’s it. I guess no one’s investigating further…”
“I see…” I said.
“I hope you don’t mind my saying so, but the guy was a real piece of shit. I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but people really do die as they live. Divine retribution and all that. Still, my condolences, since you knew him personally. Afraid I’ve got to go. We’re real busy here.”
“Okay. Thanks, anyway. Bye.”
Boorish Olcay had been as tactless as ever. Not only had he failed to provide any worthwhile information, he’d aggravated both me and my headache. One more performance like that, and he’d be deleted from my address book. That would serve him right!
Once again, Selçuk was my last, best hope. I called him up and explained. He listened patiently until I was finished, promising to do what he could. I’d get him a nice gift and visit him at home.