The Prophet Murders (22 page)

I was as stunned as
sa Gürhan What was going on?

“Fehmi’s my closest friend,” said Adem. “We’re bosom pals. We’ve got nothing to hide from each other.”

Judging by Fehmi’s lack of reaction to Adem’s get-up, that much was certainly true.

It was obvious from the way they exchanged glances that something was up, but I had no idea what. Adem hadn’t been the least bit surprised by Fehmi’s arrival. In fact, he was clearly expected. These two had cooked up some kind of plan.

Fehmi loosened his tie as he took a seat between me and
sa.
“One of our Cessnas was dropping by. I thought I’d get a ride down. I’m glad I did. It meant meeting you.”

sa Gürhan interrupted: “Do you always call him ‘boss’?”

He was a lot more boisterous than I’d remembered, and drunk as a skunk. I didn’t appreciate his expression. Every time I caught him exchanging glances with Adem he would give me a filthy grin.

Something had gone terribly wrong. I could sense the balance shifting. Now we had both Fehmi and Adem Yildiz to deal with. The enormous Mazi harbour was totally empty, and the night pitch black. And here we sat with a serial killer and his accomplice. I had no idea how Fehmi had arrived. There had been no sound of a motor. The Zodiac was still tethered to the pier. I’d been a little over confident, and now I might have to pay the price. I’d had too much wine. My reflexes were dulled.
sa Gürhan had long since passed his limit, and was smiling stupidly.

“Adem, honey and almonds,” he murmured softly to himself, in what he thought passed for a song.

“I’d like a coffee, please.” I carefully enunciated each syllable. “A bitter, sugarless cup of Turkish coffee.”

The coffee would help me come to my senses. Otherwise, we were finished. I was still young. There were so many places to go, shopping to do, men to seduce . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of such an abrupt end.

The last thing I needed was to end up as fodder, one of the regular transvestite stories.

The question Fehmi asked as he turned to Isa only panicked me more.

"Is your name really
sa?” he asked. “Like the Prophet
sa“

I was afraid that the giggling Gürhan would forget himself and reply “No, ‘I’m Gürhan’.” But he’d been too well trained. like Isabella and “That’s right,” he said, simpering. “ I Isadora.”

Fehmi had a strange gleam in his eye. The look he shot Adem was unmistakable.

“Would the little lady care for another glass of wine?”

The “little lady” Fehmi referred to was of course
sa. The tone used to address him was both flirtatious and belittling.

Even in his stupor,
sa must have sensed that something was awry. He refused the wine and took a long sip of water.

“What about the coffee?” I asked, as brightly as possible. “Don’t bother. I’m happy to make it myself.”

As I rose to my feet my head spun. I sank back into my chair.

This was a disaster! Too much wine can make me sleepy, but I never get dizzy. What’s more, I never overdo it. Adem hadn’t even opened the second bottle. The wine must be drugged.

Adem also had a glass in front of him, but he seemed unaffected. Nothing was happening to him, but my faculties seemed to be fading by the second. I was having trouble controlling my body.

I wanted to get out of the house immediately, taking Isa back with me to Cengiz’s place.

I reached for the glass of water, downing it in a single gulp.

As I replaced it I noticed a lipstick smudge on the rim of the glass. I turned and looked at Adem’s glass: it was half full. But there wasn’t a trace of lipstick. He couldn’t have drunk any. The rim of the glass sparkled, it was spotless.
sa and I had finished an entire bottle of wine. And who knows what he’d put in it!

Fehmi began fondling
sa whose eyelids were drooping.
sa, in slow motion, was making a show of resistance, but Fehmi ignored him. As he kissed
sa, Fehmi dribbled raki into his half-open mouth. Some of the raki ran down
sa's chin. Fehmi licked it off.