Free Arabesk by Barbara Nadel Page A

Avram and as a fellow Armenian had visited frequently, for a while, after that. But not recently. For as Sevan Avedykian's sorrow had grown, so his silences had hardened. Every fibre of his body shouted to Sarkissian that he should have alerted the father to the son's activities many years before. And perhaps Sarkissian should have done just that. He had, after all, known about Avram's obsession with Ersoy for many years. True, he didn't realise quite how dangerous the fabulous Ersoy was until it was too late. Not that Avedykian would have listened then any more than he did now. And so, after just one abortive attempt to explain his involvement in Avram's past, Sarkissian had walked out of the Avedykian house for what he hoped was the last time. That had now been three months ago.
    After looking down briefly at his pocket diary, Suleyman broke the silence. 'I've learned who Erol Urfa claims to have been with on the night of the murder. Çöktin told me.'
    'Oh?'
    'Yes. Ali Mardin; he owns a small pansiyon on Yerebatan Caddesi. Like Urfa he is a .. .'
    'He's Kurdish,' the doctor assisted. 'Don't you think you should take Çöktin with you, in that case?'
    'No. I think it might be better if I impress upon Mr Mardin the seriousness of what has happened alone. I want to cut through as much clan loyalty as I can. These people need to know that only two things are of importance to me - the safe return of Merih Urfa and the apprehension of Ruya's killer. I don't care what values these people adhere to or what they consider their origins to be.'
    'How very modern’ Arto Sarkissian said with more than a hint of irony in his voice. 'I wish you luck although I do have some anxieties. I mean, you are dealing with people -Erol, Aksoy, Tansu and now possibly Mardin - who know how to keep secrets very effectively. After all, Ruya and Merih were, until yesterday, nonexistent people’
    'Yes. Strange’ Suleyman's eyes glazed over as he considered this point 'I would have thought that Aksoy would have wanted to exploit the fact that Erol honoured his village betrothal. Man of principal marries little country girl. After all, most of his fans are of a certain class . ..'
    Sarkissian laughed. 'Oh, you terrible snob!' he said. 'But yes, I suppose they are mostly peasants. It does rather depend upon what Aksoy had in mind for Erol though. And his affair with Tansu was frequently headline news. That woman is so volatile she ensures whoever she is with is never out of the public eye’
    'And if the public are fascinated by a person, they will buy their tapes, CDs or whatever.'
    The doctor bowed in agreement. 'Precisely.'
    'How horribly cynical.'
    'That's business.'
    There was a knock at the door. In response to Suleyman's call to enter, a smart, if rather nondescript young man, entered the office. Tipped as Suleyman's replacement, Ìkmen's new sergeant, Orhan Tepe was one of those men who always looked cheerful, whatever the occasion. And now was no exception.
    'What is it, Tepe?' Suleyman said, only briefly looking away from the doctor.
    'We've got some people downstairs who claim they killed Ruya Urfa. They say they've got to see you, sir.'
    Suleyman groaned. 'Crazies.'
    'Well, yes, but, er, not obviously so, sir,' said Tepe. 'Not mad old women in rags or men who think they're Adnan Menderes.'
    'Oh,' the doctor said with a smile, 'unusual crazies, eh?'
    'Well, if you call two teenage girls wearing chadors unusual then, yes, they are, sir.' Turning back to Suleyman, he said, 'Shall you be coming to see them, Inspector, or shall I just get their parents to collect them?'
    I am an addict for the sorrow that you bring I embrace the knife's edge of your disdain I am lost I am gone I am dead
    Until your sweet return into my life happens once again.
    As he looked at what he had just written, Çetin Ìkmen shook his head in disbelief. 'You know’ he said calling out to Fatma over the top of the tape he had been transcribing, 'I think the state should