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
'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
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