Fortunately, the police were most polite. Once again, my friendship with Selçuk had done me no harm. It was “sir” this and “sir” that. Exhausted, I calmly did all they asked and produced perfectly plausible responses to all their questions.
There was the matter of my visit to Faruk Hanoğlu. Why had I gone to see him, and when? How long I had stayed? What was the exact nature of our relationship? How well I’d known him, and such… They were simply gathering as much information as possible, that was all. A routine interview. Nothing to be concerned about. Not yet, anyway.
Nothing was asked about Okan, and nothing volunteered. With Okan so terrified of the police, he’d have no choice but to spend a couple more days with Refik Altın, at their love nest. Within a couple of days, everything would be clear, in any case.
I was certain that they’d interpreted my fatigue as boredom, therefore assuming that all I told them was true. My testimony was typed up. After glancing over it, I signed a copy. I was thanked, and a policeman went so far as to accompany me to the exit, no doubt due to his respect for, and fear of, Commissioner Selçuk. Shaking my hand as we parted, he said, “Give my regards to the chief.”
I was deposited in front of my building by the same car that had taken me off to the station an hour earlier.
At last, I could crawl into my inviting, empty bed, with particular emphasis on the word “empty.” Were John Pruitt or even Haluk Pekerdem to come calling, I’d have politely turned them away. I was that tired. As I got undressed, I took the large safe-deposit box key out of my trouser pocket and placed it on the nightstand. I’m normally a tidy person, some would even say compulsive, but for tonight I simply tossed my clothes onto the low armchair near the bed.
It would take an alert mind to go through the lists forwarded to me by Cihad2000. That could wait until morning. It was nearly nine o’clock. Cihad2000 and Pamir would be going at it by now, I thought. Then I was out cold.
A blissfully deep sleep and delightful dreams were cut short by the endless ringing of the phone. Even worse, the call had been placed not to the line attached to the answering machine, but to my modem, the number of which even I didn’t know. It seemed the ringing would never stop; I’d have to answer it.
Opening a single eye, I peered at the alarm clock. It was well after midnight.
I dragged myself into my home office and produced my grimmest “Alo.”
“I just called to thank you” came the voice of Cihad2000. “I haven’t woken you?”
“I was sleeping. Anyway, I’m awake now.”
“It was amazing, better than any of my fantasies. I couldn’t get enough. It was so… punishing.”
“I’m so happy for you,” I said.
“Anyway, you’d better get back to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow. I’m too wound up to sleep. Maybe I’ll get some more work done. Oh, by the way, have you had a look at the lists I sent? Did you find anything useful?”
“You wouldn’t believe how exhausted I was. I passed out the second I got home.”
“Alright, alright. I can take a hint. Sorry. Tomorrow then…”
“Okay.” I yawned.
He thanked me again before hanging up.
It had been a short call, but I was now fully awake. I went back to bed, hoping for the best. The covers were still warm. I pulled them up to my chin.
I started imagining what I’d find when I opened the safe-deposit box the next day. It’d be just like a film. I’d walk in and open the box with my key. The name of the bank, branch code, and box number were all engraved on the key, after all. In order to ensure that I’d be able to stride right past the lines of envious bank customers, with a curt nod directed at the deferential manager, I’d have to follow the example of my mother, chin high, eyes straight ahead, and dressed to genteel advantage. I could only guess at the dirty laundry that awaited me. It might lead me not only to Volkan’s killer, but to that of loan shark Faruk as well. It’s true that the police were on the case, but they now had me to contend with as well.
I turned over onto my other side, completely altering my train of thought. Volkan was just Volkan, and Faruk just Faruk. And both were dead. But then there was Haluk Pekerdem… Ah, that Haluk Pekerdem. I tried to picture him lying next to me. And failed. It just wasn’t happening.
I was feeling sleepy again. But I thought I heard strange sounds in the flat. I froze and listened carefully. Yes, someone was in my flat. Perhaps even more than one person. Whoever they were, they hadn’t turned on a light. It could only mean trouble.
I considered confronting them. I was half dressed and barefoot. It’s true that shoes aren’t necessarily required for Thai boxing, but this wasn’t a question of fun and games. It could well be a question of life and death. As always, the right shoes were essential. And then there was the damage that might be caused to my flat, my home. Life and property both hung in the balance!
I was just sitting up when two shadows appeared before me. I’d have had to be blind not to notice the glinting barrel of a gun pointed right at me. Both of them wore ski masks. I guessed that they were male, strong, and young.
The one nearest me seemed somehow more alert and in charge. Indeed, he spoke first.
“Give me the key,” he hissed, waving the gun at my nose.
I’d have to think carefully before springing to action. And springing out of a prone position would be no easy matter.
“What key?” I said, buying time.
“Don’t play dumb. The first question is always ‘who are you?’ or ’what do you want?’ I’d expected more of you. Don’t drag this out. And don’t try any tricks.”
Well, at least he had a sense of humor. The voice was unfamiliar.
“That last line of yours was a bit hackneyed,” I said, reaching for the lamp.
He rapped my hand with the gun.
“We won’t be getting married or anything. There’s no need for that light.”
“But how I am supposed to see what I’m doing, sweetie?” I asked.
I’d hoped to be able to spring out of bed and onto my feet. “Now if you’ll just allow me to get up.”
He pushed me back onto the bed with his gun.
“We know all about your special skills. It’s better you stay like that. We don’t want to hurt you. Just hand over the key…”
Good for Okan. So, he’d sent a pack of his dogs after me. Or he’d hired some. Well, he did have the backing of the Hanoğlu family.
“So,” I said. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Just tell me where the key is. I’ll get it myself.”
“Who sent you? Okan?”
“You talk too much!”
He pressed the gun into me, just under my chin. So that’s what’s meant by “looking down the icy barrel…” It was freezing.
Actually, I was glad he hadn’t switched on a light. For one thing, he would have noticed the key on the nightstand right next to me.
For another, he hadn’t yet considered that I had the home-court advantage. I knew the exact location of every stick of furniture in my flat, as well as the positions of every potential weapon. Anything I got my hands on could be smashed into him or his partner.
With the gun sticking into my chin, I couldn’t see the other intruder. But I sensed that he was close to the foot of the bed. Right around where my knees were.
I did a quick calculation.
“It’s right next to me, by the table light.”
As he reached toward the nightstand, he turned his head to look for the key. Big mistake! And mistakes are never handier than at moments like these.
The blow to his kidneys with my strong right hand surely cracked two ribs. The other man took a reverse kick to the face and was buckled over and bellowing.
By the time the gun was pointed at me again I was on my feet and standing right between them. It’s my favorite position. Nothing’s more fun than leaping into the air and smashing a leg into one assailant, a turned foot into the other. Throw a midair spin into the equation, and it’s sheer joy.
I did it!
When I landed, there was now a gun in my hand.
We stood there, at the corners of a triangle. The partner, who hadn’t yet spoken, was now unarmed and no doubt dumbstruck at the loss of his weapon.
“Enough already!” said the one in charge. “Put it down.”
“You put yours down,” I said. “My gun’s as good as yours.”
As I took a step back, I checked the safety catch. It wasn’t on. They meant business. Still, it seemed a heavy weapon for a job like this. I’d have chosen something smaller, lighter, more elegant-chic shiny steel beats dull black any time. After all, they weren’t on safari! They’d set out to break into a flat and shoot at close range, if necessary, a person-not a wild boar!
Stamping his foot like a petulant child, “Drop it!” said Mr. Take Charge.
My gun trained on him, his on me, I reached over and grabbed the key.
“Drop it!” he said.
“Hah, you’re repeating yourself!” I scolded. Then I bluffed. “I recognize your voice.”
He said nothing.
I shoved the key into my underwear. These days, I sleep in designer label boxers left over from my old lover. Not only are they manly, they’re sexy as hell. I mean, if Madonna can get away with it, why can’t I?
The key was cold. I tingled.
“Don’t push us,” he said in a low voice. “We don’t want to hurt you. This has got nothing to do with you. Give me the key and we’ll forget all about it.”
The other one was still rubbing his nose. Not being in possession of a weapon, he concentrated on licking his wounds.
There would be that can of pepper spray on the dressing table, if I could reach it. It looked like an ordinary can of deodorant. I’d bought it when self-defense techniques became all the rage after the explosion in purse snatching. I’d never actually used it, though.
Actually, I had no idea whether it would do any good. After all, the three of us were breathing the same air, and in close proximity to each other. No, I’d have to rely, once again, on my skills in Thai boxing.