A boat, a bottle of rakı, maybe a girl . . .’
‘In your dreams,’ a third voice said.
‘What? The boat, the rakı or the girl?’
‘What do you think!’
They all laughed. Frozen, Ay ş e wondered what to do next. She could hear Nar behind her, breathing heavily. She hoped she’d found her phone. But then she heard the young man say, ‘It’s quiet outside, I’m going out for that cigarette now.’
‘Oh, have one in here!’ the older man said.
‘No,’ the young man said, ‘I can’t smoke in a kitchen, it just isn’t nice.’
‘OK.’
Ay ş e grabbed the handle of the door nearest to her and opened it. She pulled Nar after her. The blinding whiteness of the room was the first thing that hit her. It was some kind of fridge or freezer. Once Nar was in, Ay ş e pushed the door to, but not shut. She made Nar keep it open with just one finger.
Hiding in a fridgewas certainly a novel experience but the real surprise for Ay ş e and Nar came in the shape of a rather urbane-looking man who appeared to be moving blocks of cheese around.
Chapter 10
The boy, Alp İ lhan, wasclearly frightened but in spite of his fear, his love for what he did shone through.
‘Murder mystery events are only part of what we do,’ he told İ kmen, Süleyman and the others. ‘We put on plays, our own work and others, anywhere that will take us.’
‘You all go to Bo ğ aziçi University?’ İ kmen asked.
‘Yes.’
İ kmen looked down at his notebook. ‘And you started Bowstrings the summer before last?’
‘Yes. With Ceyda Ümit and Söner Erkan. It was my idea.’
He was a pleasant enough young man but there was a streak of what might be quite ruthless ambition there too. His fictional guise as an Ottoman prince rather suited him.
‘I assume that, being students, you needed to raise some capital to start Bowstrings,’ İ kmen said. ‘You must need to pay for costume hire, publicity, for rehearsal time for your plays. Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sohow did you do that?’
He sighed. ‘I work as a tour guide in the summer,’ he said. ‘I can speak English and so I get some work through a travel agency in Sultanahmet. But that’s not much. Most of the money that Bowstrings have had so far has come from Söner’s parents. They’re rich.’
‘Would you say that Söner’s parents basically own Bowstrings?’ İ kmen said. Alp was a good-looking boy but now that İ kmen regarded him closely he could see that for all his beauty he was just a rather ordinary lower-middle-class İ stanbul lad. He was the type of kid whose dad probably had a middle management job in a bank and whose mum stayed at home and wore a headscarf. Not unlike İ kmen’s own children.
Alp looked down at the floor. ‘Yeah.’
‘And is that a happy arrangement?’ İ kmen asked.
‘Yeah. Sort of.’
‘Sort of?’
‘They pay all our bills but . . .’ After casting a glance at their captors over one shoulder, he leaned forward in his chair and said, ‘Söner could kind of hold that over everyone’s head from time to time. Like, if we didn’t want to do what he wanted to do he could say he was going to tell his dad . . .’
‘Who would cutoff your money?’
‘Maybe.’
İ kmen looked at the boy, who was obviously frightened for all sorts of reasons, and then he said, ‘Did you like Söner, Alp?’
He had to think about it for a moment but then he said, ‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
The black-clad ghoul with the camera on his helmet moved in closer and İ kmen lost his temper. He glared into the man’s eyes and said, ‘What are you filming for? Posterity? Your own amusement?’
The man moved in even closer and Hovsep Pars put a hand up to his chest in a vain attempt to still his wildly beating heart.
‘What kind of sick—’
‘Your job, Inspector İ kmen, is to question suspects and then make a judgement,’ the leader of the masked gunmen interjected. ‘Don’t speculate about me or my team. Get
‘In your dreams,’ a third voice said.
‘What? The boat, the rakı or the girl?’
‘What do you think!’
They all laughed. Frozen, Ay ş e wondered what to do next. She could hear Nar behind her, breathing heavily. She hoped she’d found her phone. But then she heard the young man say, ‘It’s quiet outside, I’m going out for that cigarette now.’
‘Oh, have one in here!’ the older man said.
‘No,’ the young man said, ‘I can’t smoke in a kitchen, it just isn’t nice.’
‘OK.’
Ay ş e grabbed the handle of the door nearest to her and opened it. She pulled Nar after her. The blinding whiteness of the room was the first thing that hit her. It was some kind of fridge or freezer. Once Nar was in, Ay ş e pushed the door to, but not shut. She made Nar keep it open with just one finger.
Hiding in a fridgewas certainly a novel experience but the real surprise for Ay ş e and Nar came in the shape of a rather urbane-looking man who appeared to be moving blocks of cheese around.
Chapter 10
The boy, Alp İ lhan, wasclearly frightened but in spite of his fear, his love for what he did shone through.
‘Murder mystery events are only part of what we do,’ he told İ kmen, Süleyman and the others. ‘We put on plays, our own work and others, anywhere that will take us.’
‘You all go to Bo ğ aziçi University?’ İ kmen asked.
‘Yes.’
İ kmen looked down at his notebook. ‘And you started Bowstrings the summer before last?’
‘Yes. With Ceyda Ümit and Söner Erkan. It was my idea.’
He was a pleasant enough young man but there was a streak of what might be quite ruthless ambition there too. His fictional guise as an Ottoman prince rather suited him.
‘I assume that, being students, you needed to raise some capital to start Bowstrings,’ İ kmen said. ‘You must need to pay for costume hire, publicity, for rehearsal time for your plays. Is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sohow did you do that?’
He sighed. ‘I work as a tour guide in the summer,’ he said. ‘I can speak English and so I get some work through a travel agency in Sultanahmet. But that’s not much. Most of the money that Bowstrings have had so far has come from Söner’s parents. They’re rich.’
‘Would you say that Söner’s parents basically own Bowstrings?’ İ kmen said. Alp was a good-looking boy but now that İ kmen regarded him closely he could see that for all his beauty he was just a rather ordinary lower-middle-class İ stanbul lad. He was the type of kid whose dad probably had a middle management job in a bank and whose mum stayed at home and wore a headscarf. Not unlike İ kmen’s own children.
Alp looked down at the floor. ‘Yeah.’
‘And is that a happy arrangement?’ İ kmen asked.
‘Yeah. Sort of.’
‘Sort of?’
‘They pay all our bills but . . .’ After casting a glance at their captors over one shoulder, he leaned forward in his chair and said, ‘Söner could kind of hold that over everyone’s head from time to time. Like, if we didn’t want to do what he wanted to do he could say he was going to tell his dad . . .’
‘Who would cutoff your money?’
‘Maybe.’
İ kmen looked at the boy, who was obviously frightened for all sorts of reasons, and then he said, ‘Did you like Söner, Alp?’
He had to think about it for a moment but then he said, ‘Yes.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
The black-clad ghoul with the camera on his helmet moved in closer and İ kmen lost his temper. He glared into the man’s eyes and said, ‘What are you filming for? Posterity? Your own amusement?’
The man moved in even closer and Hovsep Pars put a hand up to his chest in a vain attempt to still his wildly beating heart.
‘What kind of sick—’
‘Your job, Inspector İ kmen, is to question suspects and then make a judgement,’ the leader of the masked gunmen interjected. ‘Don’t speculate about me or my team. Get
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