One day a postman came to my village. The postman brought me a letter from my son, Saul.
'Is your name Adam?' the postman asked. 'Yes,' I said.
'I've got a letter for you.' The postman read the envelope: 'Adam of the village of Minta.'
'A letter for me. Who is it from?' I asked. The postman looked at the envelope again. 'From Saul' he said. He gave me the letter and walked away.
'Martha, Martha,' I called to my wife. 'Come here. We have a letter from our son, Saul.'
Martha came out and looked at the letter. She was excited but she was also worried.
'A letter from Saul,' slie said. 'Is he alive and well? I'm going to find the school teacher. He can read the letter.
There was no school fifty years ago. So I cannot read or write. I live in a small village. The only work is farming. My only son, Saul, left the village two years ago and my three daughters are married. Saul is making a lot of money in a foreign country.
Martha and the school teacher came back. A lot of other people came. Everyone wanted to hear my letter. The school teacher opened the envelope and read the letter.
Dear Father,
I am living in London. I have a job in a factory. The work is very hard. But the pay is good.
I am well and I live with people from my country.
I am sending you $100 in this letter. This is for you and my mother.
Love to you and mother.
Saul
'One hundred dollars!' I said to the school teacher. 'You're wrong. It's a mistake.'
'No', the school teacher said. 'I'm not wrong. It's not a mistake. Here is the money.' And he gave me a piece of paper.
'What is this?' I asked.
'A money order,' the school teacher said. 'Go to Darpur. Take this money order to the Post Office in Darpur. The money order is worth one hundred dollars. The Post Office official will give you the money.'
'One hundred dollars!' I said again.
Everyone laughed and said, 'Adam, you are a rich man. You can buy many things for your farm and for your house.'
'And I can buy some good food and drink in Darpur. I am going to give a party for you all,' I told my friends.
Martha said, 'Saul is a good son.'
That evening, the village people talked about the money order and my money. Martha and I also talked about the money. We needed many things for the farm.
CHAPTER TWO
Adam Goes to Darpur
The next morning I got up very early. It was dark and everyone was asleep. But I was going to Darpur.
I washed and dressed carefully. I put on my best clothes and I carried my best stick. I put the money order carefully in my pocket and I said goodbye to Martha.
I walked ten miles to the main road. I sat down at the main road and ate my breakfast.
I waited for the bus. I waited for two hours. Then the bus came and I got on.
It is a long way to Darpur. The bus takes three hours. I arrived in Darpur and walked to the Post Office immediately.
I do not often go to Darpur. I only know the market, and one shop. This is the shop of Rick. I buy things for my farm from Rick.
There were a lot of people in the Post Office. I asked about money orders. A man showed me the queue. There was a long line of people and I waited at the back.
Finally it was my turn; I was at the front of the queue. But the official did not serve me.
'Excuse me,' I said. 'It's my turn. I'm next.'
'You are next? Old man, I'm very busy,' the official said. 'Look at my papers. Look at all these people. I am very busy. And you must wait.'
So I waited. Finally the official looked at me.
'What do you want?' he asked.
I gave him my money order. 'This is my money order for one hundred dollars,' I replied.
The official held out his hand. 'Identity Card,' he said.
'Excuse me. I don't understand,' I replied.
'Your Identity Card,' the official said again. 'Give me your Identity Card.'
'What is an Identity Card?' I asked.
'I can't give you any money for this money order. First I must see your Identity Card. Your Identity Card gives your name and your address. Your Identity Card describes you. There is a photograph of you in your Identity Card. I don't know you. Who are you?' The official was a little angry.
But I was also angry. 'Who am I?' I said. 'Everyone knows me. I am Adam of the village of Minta. I haven't got an Identity Card and I don't need an Identity Card.'
'Old man, I'm very busy and you're very stupid,' the official said. 'Who are you? Where is Minta?'
'Give me my money. Give me my one hundred dollars,' I said.
The official looked angry and said, 'Show me your Identity Card. I don't know you.'
The official gave back my money order and he turned away.
'Where can I buy an Identity Card?' I asked the official. He did not speak to me. He did not answer.
'Go to the Ministry of the Interior,' a man said. He was standing in the queue. And he told me the way.
CHAPTER THREE
An Identity Card
I walked to the Ministry of the Interior. I waited in another queue. I spoke to another official. I asked for an Identity Card.
'Fill in this application form,' the official said. 'And bring the form and three photographs of yourself and two dollars. Come back tomorrow.'
'Tomorrow?' I said. 'Can I have an Identity Card today, please? I live in Minta. I live five hours' journey from Darpur. I'm an old man.'
'Yes, come back tomorrow.' And the official turned away.
I walked away from the Ministry of the Interior. I walked to the market. At the market I looked at everyone. I was looking for a man from my village. But I could not find a villager. So then I walked to the shop of Rick. I spoke to Rick.
'I want an Identity Card,' I told him. 'But I need three photographs of myself.'
'I see. You need some photographs.' And he showed me the way to a photographer.
I found the house. The photographer was asleep but he came to me quickly. The man's clothes were dirty and he looked tired.
'I need an Identity Card,' I said. 'I want three photographs of myself.'
'Yes, you want three photographs of yourself,' the photographer replied. 'And I take very good photographs. Come and see my camera.'
We walked into his room. In the middle of the room was a large camera.
'This is the best camera in Darpur. This camera is very, very good,' the photographer said proudly.
'I've never seen a camera,' I said. 'I don't know about cameras. Hurry up and take a photograph of me.'
'Please do not hurry me, old man,' the photographer said. 'I am an artist.' And he gave me a mirror and a comb.
'I don't want a mirror, I don't want a comb. Please take my photograph. I'm going to Minta this afternoon. And I'm in a hurry,' I said.
'Yes,' he said. 'But first the price. This is the best camera in Darpur and I'm the best photographer. Three photographs will cost you two dollars fifty.'
'Two dollars fifty!' And I laughed.
'Two dollars fifty - and pay me now please,' the photographer answered.
I did not know the price of photographs. What could I do? Then the photographer said, 'You are an old man. For you, the price is two dollars.'
So I gave him the money and he took the photographs. 'Come back tomorrow morning,' he said.
'I want my three photographs now, immediately,' I said.
'Don't be stupid,' the photographer said. 'Photographs take twenty-four hours. Come back tomorrow.'
What could I do? So I said, 'Yes. Tomorrow morning.'
'Good,' said the photographer. 'Now go. I have a lot of work. I'm very busy.'
I went back to the bus station. I sat on the bus for three hours. I walked ten miles back to my village.
It was night time and I was very tired. Martha and my friends were waiting for me. 'Where is the money?' Martha asked.
'I have no money. I cannot change the money order. First I must have an Identity Card.' And I told Martha everything.
'Tomorrow I am going to Darpur again,' I said. Then I did not talk again. I was very tired and it was late at night. I lay on my bed and I slept.
CHAPTER FOUR
No Photographs
I woke up late the next morning. The sun was already high. I did not walk to the main road and catch a bus. All the buses go to Darpur early in the morning.
So I stayed at home on Wednesday. I was still very tired. I rested and talked to the villagers about the money order. I told them about the Identity Card and the photographer.
The school teacher said, 'Yes, the official is correct. In a Post Office, you always show your Identity Card.'
The school teacher filled in my application form for an Identity Card.
On Thursday I travelled to Darpur again. I walked to the main road and I caught a bus. In Darpur, I walked to the house of the photographer.
I knocked on the door of the house. No one came to the door. I knocked again loudly with my stick. A woman opened the door.
'Who are you? What do you want?' she asked.
'Can I have my photographs, please?' I said.
'Your photographs? I have no photographs,' the woman replied.
'I came here on Tuesday. Where is the photographer?' I asked.
'He's out. He's not here.' And the woman closed the door.
I shouted at her, 'I'm waiting here for him.'
After a long time the photographer came back. He looked tired and he smelt of beer.
'Give me my photographs,' I said. 'I have waited a long time for you.'
The photographer looked at me and said, 'I don't know you, old man. What photographs are you talking about?'
'My three photographs for my Identity Card. I paid you two dollars for them on Tuesday. Give me my photographs immediately or my money.'
'Your photographs? Your money? What are you talking about?' the photographer said. 'Show me the paper. Show me the receipt for your money.'
'My receipt?' I asked.
'Yes. Where is your receipt?' the photographer asked.
'You didn't give me a receipt,' I shouted. 'Give me my photographs or my money immediately.' And I hit the photographer hard with my stick. I am old, but I am still strong.
The photographer fell on the ground. He shouted, 'Help! Help! This old man is killing me.' And I hit him hard again.
Lots of people ran out of their houses. I hit the photo-grapher again and two men held me. I could not get away from the two men.
The photographer was very angry and I was very angry. Lots of people were shouting.
Then a policeman came. The photographer shouted to the policeman, 'This old man hit me three times with his stick. He's a thief and a murderer. He wants my money.'
The policeman held my arm and said, 'Come with me to the police station.' I did not say anything. We walked to the police station.
At the police station, the policeman asked me, 'Did you hit that man three times?'
'Yes,' I said, 'he didn't give me my photographs.'
'Show me your Identity Card,' said the policeman.
'I am Adam of Minta village,' I replied, 'and I haven't got an Identity Card.'
'Old man,' said the policeman. 'Go back to your village. Don't come here and fight. Keep out of Darpur.' And he pushed me into the street.
I went back to my village. I was tired and angry.
CHAPTER FIVE
Adam Changes his Money Order
Next day I told my story to all the villagers. The villagers were angry. Martha was very unhappy.
She said, 'Saul is working very hard. He is sending money and we can't have the money. What are we going to do?
I did not know. Then in the evening the school teacher came to my house again.
'Adam. Perhaps I can help you,' the school teacher said. 'Here is a letter to Mr Sheth.'
'Mr Sheth?' I said, 'Who is he?
'He's an important man in Darpur and he's a friend of my wife's cousin,' replied the school teacher. 'This letter is to Mr Sheth. The letter is about your money order. Perhaps he can help you.'
I took the letter and thanked the school teacher.
So I travelled to Darpur again on Saturday, for the third time. After a long time, I found Mr Sheth's house. The door was opened by a tall man.
'Can I see Mr Sheth?' I asked.
'And who are you?' the tall man asked.
'I have a letter for Mr Sheth,' I replied.
'I see. Can I have the letter, please?' And the tall man held out his hand.
'The letter is here,' I said. And I took the letter out of my pocket. 'But I must see Mr Sheth.'
'Many people want to see Mr Sheth,' the tall man told me. 'He is a very busy man and a very important man. Mr Sheth is not here at the moment. But give me your letter, and Mr Sheth will read it later.'
I gave the tall man the letter. Then I waited. Later, a large black car came and a man went into the house. A long time later, the tall man opened the door again.
'Come in now, please, and follow me,' he said.
I followed the tall man. We went into a large room with fine carpets and big chairs. Another man was in the room. He was drinking.
'This is Mr Sheth,' said the tall man.
'I am Adam of Minta village,' I replied.
'Yes, I know,' said Mr Sheth. 'Thank you for the letter. I hope I can help you. I like to help people. Please, sit down.' Mr Sheth smiled. His clothes were new and smart.
'Thank you,' I said.
'Can I see the money order, please?' Mr Sheth asked.
I took the money order out of my pocket. By now, the money order was dirty and looked very old. I gave it to Mr Sheth.
'This money order is for one hundred dollars,' I said. 'My son sent it from a foreign country.'
Mr Sheth unfolded the money order and looked at it. 'You can't change this money order,' he said. 'This money order is not worth one hundred dollars. This money order is worth nothing.'
'Worth nothing! Worthless?' I asked.
Then Mr Sheth looked at the money order again. 'Yes, worthless. Your son does not understand about money orders. This money order is not correct for our country,' Mr Sheth said. Then he looked at the money order again and said, 'And this money order is also old. It is out-of-date.'
I said nothing. Mr Sheth gave me the money order back.
Then Mr Sheth smiled and said, 'I am very sorry. You are an old man. You came a long way from your village. What can I give you to eat and drink?'
I was not hungry. But Mr Sheth went out of the room. Then he brought me some coffee and some cakes. I drank my coffee.
'Old man,' said Mr Sheth, 'I like to help people. I am a rich man. Give me your money order.'
I gave my money order to Mr Sheth. 'Yes, this money order is worthless,' he said again. 'But I am going to help you. I am going to change this money order for you. I am going to give you some money.'
Mr Sheth went out of the room. I felt very happy again. After a few minutes, the tall man came into the room. He gave me an envelope. 'This is from Mr Sheth. You can go now,' the tall man said.
I went out of the house. I walked along the road to the bus station. I opened the envelope and I took out my money. I counted the money. It was ten dollars. I thought about my only son, Saul.
My son, Saul, had sent me a money order for one hundred dollars. Mr Sheth had given me ten dollars. I felt old and I felt poor again.
- THE END -
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It is early morning on a sunny spring day in April. Heathrow Airport, London, is busy, as usual. Hundreds of people are arriving, leaving, or waiting for planes.
In the Departure Lounge of Terminal One, a man is sitting reading a newspaper. He does not like airports. There are too many people, and he is always nervous when he flies. He looks at his watch impatiently. Then he hears the announcement over the loudspeakers.
'British Airways announce the departure of Flight BE570 for Istanbul. Will passengers please proceed to Gate 16 for boarding.'
Tom Smith picks up his suitcase and walks towards Gate 16.
Twenty minutes later, the plane is preparing to leave. It moves slowly across the airport to runway number two. Tom is sitting looking out of the window.
The plane suddenly moves forward, races down the runway and rises into the air. Tom looks down at the houses and roads far below, and smiles. London is behind him. Now he is on his way to Istanbul.
Tom relaxed and took a letter from his pocket.
Resat Bey Apt 11-3, Kamerot Sokak, Ayazpasa, Istanbul
My dear Tom,
Thank you for your letter. I am so happy that you can come and visit me for a holiday. Life here in Istanbul is very interesting. I am enjoying my work, but I miss you very much. It will be wonderful to see you again.
I'm sure we will have a very nice holiday. Spring is here, and the weather is beautiful.
I have to work on Monday 14th of April - the day you arrive. So I can't come to the airport to meet you, but you can take a taxi from the Air Terminal to Taksim Square. That's in the centre of the new part of the city. There's a big hotel called the Park Hotel near the square. I'll meet you there at 5 o'clock. We'll meet in the American Bar. The view over the city is beautiful.
I can't wait to see you again, Tom. I have so much to tell you. So remember, the Park Hotel, Taksim Square, 5 o'clock.
See you on the 14th. love,
Angela.
Tom sat for a moment, looking at his fiancee's letter. Then he put it in his pocket. He looked down at the green fields of France, as the plane continued its journey across Europe.
'Have you been to Istanbul before?' said a voice. It was the young man in the next seat.
'No, I haven't,' said Tom. 'Have you?'
The man smiled.
'My home is in Istanbul. I'm studying in London at the moment. I'm going home for a holiday.'
'Really?' said Tom. 'Where are you studying?'
'At London University.'
The two men sat talking, as the stewardesses began serving lunch. The young man told Tom his name was Kemal. His parents had a shop in Istanbul.
'Are you meeting someone in Istanbul?' Kemal asked.
'My fiancee,' said Tom. 'She's working in Istanbul.'
'That's interesting. How long has she been there?'
She went to Istanbul two months ago. She works for a small company which is starting to export to England. She's making all the arrangements.'
'Exporting always seems so difficult,' said Kemal. 'It seems difficult,' Tom agreed. 'But that's Angela's job. She's an expert in importing and exporting. Her father has an import/export agency in London and she has worked for him for some years. She's almost completed her work in Istanbul now. The company has already started to send goods to England. She'll be coming back to London soon.'
'What kind of goods do they export?' asked Kemal. 'All kind of things - brass ornaments, coffee-pots, trays leather and onyx articles - Angela's father thinks these goods will sell very well in England.'
'That's interesting,' said Kemal. 'My parents sell things like that in their shop in Istanbul.'
The two men went on talking as the plane flew over Italy and Greece towards Turkey. Soon they were descending to Yesilkoy Airport, Istanbul.
When the plane stopped, Kemal stood up. 'I hope you enjoy your stay in Istanbul,' he said. 'Here's my telephone number. If you need anything, phone me. I live in Sisli. It's not far from the centre of the city.'
'Thanks, Kemal, that's very kind of you.'
'Not at all,' replied Kemal. 'Nice to meet you. And now, goodbye.'
Tom went through Customs and Immigration and walked towards the airport exit.
CHAPTER TWO
The American Bar
A bus for the City Air Terminal was waiting outside the airport. Tom got in and sat down beside the window. Other passengers got on and the bus left the airport and drove towards Istanbul.
Soon they were driving past the houses and apartment blocks near the city. Then they passed the old city walls. Tom felt excited, and looked at everything. He saw beautiful old mosques and street markets.
The bus was now approaching the centre of old Istanbul. It stopped at some traffic lights.
A car stopped beside the bus. The door opened and a woman got out. Two men were with her. Suddenly Tom jumped to his feet. It was Angela!
'Angela!' Tom shouted. 'Angela! Here! It's me, Tom!'
He knocked on the bus window. Suddenly the traffic lights changed and the bus moved forward. Tom ran to the back of the bus. Angela and the two men were going into a building.
'Angela!' he shouted. 'An...' He stopped. It was too late. The bus was moving quickly down a wide street. The passengers were looking at Tom and he suddenly felt foolish. He walked back to his seat and sat down.
What a surprise, he thought to himself. I must tell her when I see her this evening.
Then the bus crossed Ataturk Bridge and Tom looked at the boats on the Golden Horn. Again he felt excited.
The bus arrived at the Air Terminal at a quarter to four. There were some taxis waiting there. Tom went up to one.
'The Park Hotel, Taksim Square, please,' he told the driver.
'English? You come with me. I take you quickly.'
At a quarter past four, the taxi arrived in the square.
'Here you are, sir, the Park Hotel.'
'Thank you,' said Tom, and paid the driver.
Tom went into the hotel. He found the American Bar and sat down at a table on the terrace. A waiter came out.
'A beer, please,' said Tom.
He sat in the afternoon sunshine, and looked down over the city of Istanbul. The view was very beautiful. He was looking at the sea. The Bosphorus was full of ships. There were very big ships going to Russia and little sailing ships. In the distance, he could see the mosques and palaces of old Istanbul. How beautiful and how exciting!
Tom looked at his watch. It was nearly five o'clock. He got up and walked up to the hotel entrance. There were lots of people going in and out of the hotel. But he did not see Angela anywhere. He went back to the bar and ordered another beer.
Come on Angela, Tom said to himself. Don't be late.
Just inside the American Bar a man in a grey raincoat was sitting at a table. He was drinking coffee and smoking cheap cigarettes. A newspaper lay open on the table in front of him, and from time to time he looked at it. But the man wasn't reading the newspaper - he was watching Tom.
It was now twenty past five. Tom sat in the evening sunshine. He looked at his watch again, and waited. Half past five. Quarter to six. It was getting dark. He looked at the lights on the Bosphorus. Strange, thought Tom. Angela isn't usually late.
Tom sat at the table, on the terrace of the American Bar, waiting for his fiancee. He waited, and waited, and nobody came.
And the man in the grey raincoat sat patiently inside the bar, smoking, and watching Tom.
'Another beer, sir?' asked the waiter.
'No, bring me a black coffee, please. Have you a telephone?'
'Yes, sir, inside.'
Tom went into the hotel. There was a telephone beside the reception. Tom dialled Angela's number. The phone rang and rang, but nobody answered it. He put the phone down and turned towards the reception desk.
'Excuse me,' he asked the receptionist, 'Kamerot Sokak - do you know where it is?'
'Yes, it's very near. Go out of the hotel entrance and turn right. Walk along the street - and Kamerot Sokak is fourth on the right.'
'Thank you,' said Tom.
Tom went back to the bar. He drank his coffee and paid for his drinks. It was now after eight o'clock. Tom picked up his suitcase and left the hotel.
Inside the bar, the man in the grey raincoat stood up and picked up his newspaper. He put some money on the table and walked out into the street. He stood on the pavement for a moment or two, then started walking.
CHAPTER THREE
A Shock
Kamerot Sokak was a narrow, quiet street of old apartment buildings. Tom walked along the pavement, looking at the numbers on the doors. There was only one street light and it was difficult to see. But finally, he found Angela's address, number 11.
The building had a large glass door. Tom pushed it, but it was locked. There was no bell. He knocked on the door. Nothing happened. He knocked again, louder this time, and listened. Silence.
Damn, he thought. He was impatient now. And worried.
He stood back in the middle of the street and looked up. There were five floors, and all the windows were black. There was no light anywhere in the building.
Angela, he said to himself, Angela! Where are you?
A short distance away, the man in the grey raincoat stood in a dark doorway. He was watching Tom, watching every move he made...
Tom did not know what to do. He knocked once more on the glass door - again nothing happened. Finally, he picked up his suitcase. With a last look at the building, he turned and started walking back towards Taksim Square.
Tom Smith, he thought to himself, as he walked. You need a hot bath and a good sleep. Then you can decide what to do.
The Park Hotel was expensive, but Tom remembered seeing one or two small hotels near Taksim Square. Finally, he was standing outside the Ankara Hotel. He went in.
'Good evening,' he said to the woman at reception. 'I'd like a single room, please.'
The woman nodded.
'We have a nice room upstairs. Come, I'll show you.'
They went upstairs and she opened a door.
'Very nice room,' she said.
It was small, but it was clean and it looked comfortable.
'I'll take it,' he said, and gave the woman his passport.
'The bathroom is along the corridor,' she said. 'Breakfast is from eight to ten o'clock. Goodnight.'
Tom put his case down and sat on the bed. He suddenly felt very tired and unhappy. He was not having a good dinner in a nice restaurant. He was not sitting with the woman he loved. He was sitting alone, in a cheap hotel, in a strange city.
For a long time he sat on the bed thinking, But I saw Angela. I saw her from the bus!
Finally he stood up.
OK, he thought. Tomorrow morning I'll go to Angela's office and find out what has happened. There's a very simple explanation, I'm sure. I'll find out tomorrow.
He had a hot bath and got into bed. He was very tired after his long journey and soon fell asleep.
The man in the grey raincoat walked across Taksim Square. There was a telephone kiosk in the corner. He dialled a number, and waited. Then he spoke.
'He's in the Ankara Hotel,' the man said. 'He waited at the Park Hotel and then he went to the girl's flat. Now he's in the Ankara Hotel... Yes, yes of course I will.'
He put down the phone and left the kiosk.
The next morning, Tom felt much better. He had breakfast, then took a taxi to the office where Angela worked.
The taxi drove through the busy streets and crossed the Galata Bridge into the old city. Finally, it turned into a small street near the Railway Station. It was a narrow street of shops, small businesses and workshops. The taxi stopped in front of a grey building.
"F. Karamian and Co. Export/Import Agency", said the sign above the door. Tom pushed open the door and went in. A secretary was typing at the reception desk. She looked up as Tom came in.
'Good morning,' she smiled.
'Good morning,' said Tom. 'My name's Tom Smith. I'm looking for Angela Thomson - she's my fiancee. I arrived in Istanbul last night and waited for her, but she didn't...'
The secretary was staring at him. She stood up.
'Wait a moment, please, Mr Smith.'
She hurried over to a door marked "Office", and went inside. Tom could hear her talking to someone.
The door opened and a man came out. He looked very serious.
'Mr Smith, my name's Diinya. Please come in.'
Tom went into the office.
'Please sit down, Mr Smith,' said Diinya. 'Look - er, I don't know how to tell you this, Mr Smith. I have some very bad news for you. I'm very sorry indeed, but Miss Thomson, your fiancee - is - is dead.'
CHAPTER FOUR
'I Saw Her'
Drink this, Mr Smith,' said Mr Diinya. He handed Tom a glass of strong brandy. Tom sat, shocked, white-faced, unable to speak. He drank the brandy slowly.
'How - how did it happen?' he asked.
'A car accident. Miss Thomson was driving along a dangerous road. No one knows what happened. Her car went off the road and fell down the hillside.'
'Yesterday evening?' Tom asked.
'I beg your pardon?'
'The accident - it happened yesterday evening?'
Diinya looked at him.
'Mr Smith, the accident happened a week ago - last Sunday to be exact. She had been away to Bursa for the weekend and...'
'But that's impossible!' said Tom. 'I saw Angela yesterday!'
'Yesterday?'
'Yes. I was on the airport bus, coming into Istanbul. I saw her in the street.'
'I'm terribly sorry, Mr Smith, but you're making a mistake.'
'No, I tell you I saw her. I...'
'Mr Smith,' Diinya said patiently, 'Istanbul is a big city. There must be hundreds of women here who look like your fiancee.'
Tom said nothing.
'The British Consulate were very helpful,' continued Mr Diinya. 'They made all the arrangements for the funeral. It was on Wednesday.'
'Have her parents been told about this?' Tom asked.
'That is a problem, I'm afraid. Her parents are on holiday in France. The British and French police are trying to contact them.'
'So they don't know yet,' said Tom quietly.
'No, they don't, I'm afraid.'
There was a long silence.
'Can I have another brandy, please?' asked Tom.
'Of course.'
Tom tried hard to think clearly.
'I thought I saw her yesterday,' he said softly.
'I understand, Mr Smith. It's a great shock - a terrible tragedy for you - for all of us.'
After a pause, Diinya asked, 'What will you do now, Mr Smith? Is there anything I can do to help?'
'I'm not sure,' said Tom. 'I need some time to think. I don't know what to do.'
'Do you know anyone in Istanbul?'
Suddenly Tom remembered Kemal.
'Yes, yes, I have friends, don't worry. Look, Mr Diinya, I can't decide anything now. I think I'll stay in Istanbul for a day or two. I'd like to visit the Consulate, and maybe the police.'
Mr Diinya opened a drawer in his desk and took out a card. He wrote on it and handed the card to Tom.
'I've written down the telephone number of Mr David Pennington. He's the man in the Consulate who made the arrrangements for the funeral. The other number is my office telephone number. Contact me if you need anything. I'm here during the day.'
Tom stood up.
'I must go now,' he said. 'Thank you, you've been most kind.'
Mr Diinya walked with him to the door. 'Well, Mr Smith, once again, I'm terribly sorry.'
'You know I was so sure I saw her. So sure...' Tom said.
'I understand,' replied Diinya. 'It's a terrible shock.'
The two men shook hands.
'Remember, come here any time if you need anything,' said Mr Diinya. 'Goodbye, now.'
'Goodbye,' said Tom, and walked out into the street.
Mr Diinya turned and walked back into his office. He closed the door carefully and sat down at his desk. For a few minutes he sat thinking. Then he picked up the telephone.
Tom walked slowly through the crowded streets of old Istanbul. The streets were busy, and full of interesting people, shops and cafes. But Tom did not see any of those things. He was not interested in Istanbul, he was not a tourist any more. Tom was thinking of Angela. He remembered the journey on the bus from the airport. He was sure he had seen Angela. She had been there on the pavement, getting out of a car. But Diinya said it was not Angela. Angela was dead. She had died a week ago.
Tom walked through the streets of the city. He walked through the Grand Bazaar. He walked on and on through narrow old streets. He didn't know where he was, or what time it was. He thought about Angela. He thought again about his journey on the bus from the airport. Again and again he thought about it, and again and again he saw his fiancee. Then he stopped walking, and stood for a moment on the pavement. He was standing on a street beside the sea.
Angela isn't dead, he thought. I saw her!
He looked in his pocket and found Kemal's telephone number. He walked quickly across the street to a cafe. He went inside to the telephone.
'Hello, Kemal? Hello, it's me, Tom. Remember...? Yes, yes, fine thanks. Listen, remember you said I could phone you if I needed anything? Well, something has happened. Can we meet somewhere?'
CHAPTER FIVE
A Disappointing Day
'So,' said Kemal, 'you really think you saw her, do you?'
Kemal and Tom were sitting in the American Bar at the Park Hotel. Tom thought carefully for a moment before answering.
'Yes,' he said slowly. 'Yes, I do. You probably think I imagined it. I understand that. But I'm convinced I saw her, that's all.'
Kemal nodded.
'I can't stop thinking about yesterday,' Tom continued. 'I close my eyes and I can see Angela there on the pavement. I can't forget that.'
'Listen, Tom,' said Kemal. 'We only met yesterday but already we're friends. You're in my country, you're my friend, and you need help. If you think you saw Angela, that's enough for me. I believe you. Now we have to decide what to do.'
'There are two things I want to do as soon as possible,' said Tom. 'I want to go to the street where I saw Angela. Then I want to go to the British Consulate. I have an appointment for this afternoon.'
'OK,' said Kemal. 'The street where you saw Angela. Do you think you can remember where it is?'
'No problem,' said Tom. 'We can drive along the same route as the airport bus. I'm sure I'll remember it.'
'And what do you think you will find there?'
'I'm not sure. But she was going into a building with two men. At least we can find the building - maybe that will tell us something.'
'OK,' said Kemal. 'My car's outside. Let's go.'
Tom and Kemal were driving through the city.
'It was a wide street,' said Tom. 'We came to a roundabout after the traffic lights. We turned left and then we passed an old aqueduct.'
'Aksaray,' said Kemal. 'It's near here.'
Kemal drove over Ataturk Bridge. After a few minutes, they saw the old aqueduct. Then they came to a large roundabout and turned right.
'This is it,' said Tom. 'It's somewhere near here.'
They were approaching some traffic lights. Tom looked out of the window at the buildings on the left.
'No,' he said. 'Not here.'
They drove on to the next traffic lights.
'This is it,' said Tom. 'This is the place.'
Kemal stopped the car.
'You get out. I'll find a parking place.'
Tom got out and looked around him. He was in a wide street of shops and offices. A newspaper kiosk, a travel agency - he remembered them from the day before. He stood looking at the buildings opposite until Kemal arrived.
Tom pointed across the street to the entrance to an office building.
'That's it, I think,' he said.
They crossed the street and looked at the name plate beside the entrance to the office block. There were many names there a lawyer, a dentist, a doctor, and many other offices. Tom stood looking at the names for a few moments.
'Well,' he said finally, 'I'm sure she went into this building. But which office was she going to? Was she going to see a lawyer, or a dentist, or a doctor? How do we begin to find out?'
Kemal took his arm gently, and they walked slowly back to the car.
'Listen, Tom,' he said. 'You're going too fast. You can't expect to find out everything immediately. Wait until you see the man at the Consulate. After that, we'll think about it. Then we can decide what to do. We know she was going into that building. That's something, anyway. Now look, it's lunch-time. You must be hungry. I know a good restaurant near here ...'
'You're right,' said Tom. 'We have to be patient.'
CHAPTER SIX
Visit to the Consulate
After lunch, Kemal drove Tom to the British Consulate in Mesrutiyet Street. He stopped the car at the gate.
'Well, good luck,' he said. 'I'll wait for you.'
Tom opened the car door.
'It's very good of you to help me like this Kemal. Thanks very much.'
'Not at all,' said Kemal. 'See you later.'
Tom went through the Consulate gates. The old Consulate, with beautiful gardens round it, looked like a palace. Tom pushed the big door open and went in.
'I'd like to see Mr David Pennington, please,' he said at the reception desk. 'My name's Tom Smith. I have an appointment.'
After a few minutes, a tall man wearing glasses came to meet him.
'Mr Smith, my name's Pennington. How do you do?' said the man, holding out his hand.
Tom shook Mr Pennington's hand. 'How do you do,' he replied.
'Come into my office, please, Mr Smith. Mr Diinya told me you were coming.'
They walked up the beautiful staircase of the Consulate and went into Mr Pennington's office.
'Sit down, please,' said Pennington. 'Mr Smith, I'm very sorry about your fiancee. It was a great tragedy. Please accept my condolences.'
'Thank you,' said Tom.
Mr Pennington took two files from his desk.
'This is our report on the accident,' he said. 'And this is the police report. I can give you copies of these, but perhaps you'd like to ask me some questions first.'
Tom thought for a moment.
'Mr Pennington,' he said, 'I think I saw Angela yesterday.'
Pennington stared at Tom. There was silence in the room. Pennington looked down at his desk, then he looked at Tom again. Tom was able to hear the noise of the traffic in the street outside the gardens. For a long time Pennington said nothing. At last he spoke.
'Mr Smith,' he said, 'I don't think you fully understand. Your fiancee...'
'I know,' Tom interrupted. 'Angela was killed in a road accident last weekend. Her funeral was last Wednesday. Mr Diinya told me that this morning. But I'm telling you I saw her yesterday.'
'Mr Smith, I think you should read these reports carefully before you say anything more.'
He passed the files over to Tom.
'Can I get you a cup of tea or something?'
'A cup of tea would be nice. Thank you.'
Pennington left the office. He came back a few minutes later with some tea. There was silence in the room while Tom read the reports. Presently he looked up.
'After the accident,' Tom asked Pennington, 'how did they identify the body?'
'That was difficult,' said Pennington. 'As you know, the accident happened on a dangerous road about 200 kilometres from here. Your fiancee's car crashed through a wall by the side of the road, and fell down the hillside. The car burst into flames and was completely burned out. The - the body was very badly burned, so identification was difficult. But the police found your fiancee's handbag lying near the car. Her passport and papers were in the handbag. The police found out that the car was owned by a car hire company. Miss Thomson had hired the car for the weekend.'
'What about Angela's parents?' Tom asked.
'I'm afraid her parents don't know about the accident yet. They're on a camping holiday in France - the police are trying to contact them.'
'What was she doing on that dangerous road?'
'She spent the weekend in Bursa, sightseeing. It's a very interesting old town. She was on her way back to Istanbul.'
Tom thought for a moment.
'And are the police quite satisfied?' Tom asked.
'Yes,' said Pennington. 'The police are convinced that it was an accident. The file is closed.'
'And you people at the Consulate,' said Tom quietly, 'are you satisfied?'
For a moment Pennington said nothing.
'Yes, Mr Smith, we are,' he said. 'Our job, among other things, is to look after British citizens in Turkey. We have looked into this matter very carefully. And we are satisfied that it was an accident.'
Tom said nothing.
'I really am very sorry,' Pennington went on. 'I understand how you must feel. You've had a terrible shock. My advice to you now is to leave Istanbul. There is nothing you can do here.'
'I'm beginning to think you're right,' said Tom. 'Perhaps I should go home. You know, I really thought I saw Angela, but now...'
'Where are you staying?' asked Pennington.
'The Ankara Hotel, near Taksim Square.'
'Will you be all right? Do you know anyone here?'
'I'm all right, thank you. I have a friend here.'
'Well Mr Smith, please think carefully about what I've said. I hope you'll take my advice. If you need anything before you leave, contact me. I'll be glad to help you.'
'Thank you,' said Tom, standing up. 'Thank you for all you've done.'
'Not at all,' said Pennington. 'I'm sorry your visit to Istanbul wasn't a happier one. Have a good journey home. Goodbye.'
The two men shook hands and Tom left the Consulate.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Man in the Grey Raincoat
Kemal was waiting in the car outside the Consulate gates.
'What did he say?' Kemal asked, as Tom got in the car.
'The same as Diinya,' Tom replied. 'It was an accident. Angela's dead. The file is closed.'
Kemal started the car, and drove away from the Consulate.
'Mr Pennington advised me to go back to London,' Tom continued. 'I'm beginning to think he's right.'
Kemal said nothing.
'The police think Angela is dead, and the people at the Consulate do too. I'm the only person who doesn't think she's dead. So what am I going to do? Stay here in Istanbul? Go home? Really, I just don't...'
'Now wait a minute, wait a minute, Tom,' said Kemal. 'How long have you been in Istanbul?'
'Not very long...'
'You've been here less than twenty-four hours. And what has happened to you in this time? You've had a terrible shock. You've been told that your fiancee was killed in an accident a week ago. But you are sure you saw her from the bus last night. So now you are confused and you don't know what to do. That's right, isn't it?'
Tom nodded his head slowly in agreement.
'Well, I'll tell you what you're going to do,' Kemal went on. 'You're going to come with me to the Topkapi Palace. We can walk through the beautiful gardens there and think about everything carefully. Then we can decide what to do next.'
Tom smiled.
'You're right, of course. It has been a difficult day.'
'Exactly,' said Kemal. 'Now it's time to relax a little.'
They were driving down narrow streets, to the Golden Horn.
'This is the Galata Bridge - it crosses the Golden Horn,' said Kemal. 'Look, isn't it beautiful?'
They drove slowly across the bridge in the bright sunlight.
'It is beautiful,' said Tom, looking out across the Bosphorus. 'Very beautiful.'
They continued across the bridge, turned left, and drove past the Railway Station. A few minutes later they came to Santa Sophia - one of the oldest and most beautiful buildings in Istanbul. It was once a church, then a mosque and now it is a museum.
'We'll leave the car here,' said Kemal. 'First, I'm going to show you the Palace of Topkapi.'
They got out of the car in a large park. They were standing in front of the first gate of the Palace.
'The Sultans of Turkey used to live in Topkapi Palace,' Kemal explained.
Kemal and Tom bought an entrance ticket. They walked through the gate into the gardens of the Palace.
'This is the first courtyard of the Palace,' went on Kemal. 'Over there are the royal kitchens. And over there the harem - that's part of the Palace where the women lived.'
They were walking down a wide path. Kemal looked round and then he took Tom by the arm.
'Walk a little faster,' he said quietly.
Tom saw that there was a strange look on Kemal's face.
'Is anything wrong?' he asked.
'Keep walking,' said Kemal. 'And don't look back.'
They walked across the courtyard towards the second gate of the Palace.
'Kemal, what's wrong?' said Tom quickly.
'Someone is following us,' answered Kemal.
Someone following us?' said Tom. 'What do you mean?'
There's a man in a grey raincoat walking behind us. I saw him when we came into the Palace. I wasn't sure at first, but I'm sure now.'
They walked on and then ran through the second gateway. Kemal looked back. The man was still following them.
'This way. Quickly.' Kemal led Tom to the entrance of the Treasury. Inside, it was very crowded and it was also dark after the bright sunshine.
'We're going to separate now,' said Kemal. 'The man won't be able to follow both of us. You take a taxi back to your hotel. Have you got some money?'
'Yes,' said Tom.
'Right, I'll phone you this evening.'
'What are you going to do?' asked Tom.
'I'm going back to my car.'
'Be careful,' said Tom.
'You too,' said Kemal. 'See you later.'
CHAPTER EIGHT
A Surprise Phone Call
It was seven o'clock when Tom arrived in Taksim Square. He got out of the taxi and walked towards his hotel. He felt nervous. Was someone watching him? Was someone sitting in a car watching his hotel? He hurried inside.
'Good evening,' said the woman at reception.
'Good evening,' said Tom.
He took his room key and went upstairs. He locked his door, took off his shoes and lay down on the bed. He felt tired, but nervous and excited at the same time. For a long time he lay on the bed, listening to the noises in the street outside, and thinking about one person - Angela.
The phone rang. It rang loudly, and Tom jumped nervously.
Kemal, he thought, and picked up the receiver.
'Yes?'
'This is reception, Mr Smith, I have a call for you.' 'Thank you,' said Tom.
'Hello? Is that Tom Smith?' It was a woman's voice. 'Yes. Who is that?' Tom asked. His heart was beating fast. 'You don't know me, Mr Smith, but I'm a friend of Angela's. I have something to tell you. Can we meet somewhere?' 'Who are you?'
'My name's Julie. As I said, I'm a friend of Angela's. Listen, I don't want to talk on the phone. Can we meet somewhere?'
'Yes, yes, sure,' said Tom, thinking quickly. 'Do you know the American Bar at the Park Hotel?'
'I know it. I'll be there in twenty minutes.' There was a click and then there was silence. Tom put the phone down and jumped to his feet. 'I must tell Kemal,' he said to himself. He picked up the phone. 'Reception? Can I have Istanbul 36 82 45?' Tom waited impatiently.
'Sorry, sir, there's no answer,' said the woman at reception. 'OK, I'll try later.'
Tom put the phone down, and left the room.
There were only a few people in the American Bar when Tom went in. He sat down at a table by a window. From there he could see everyone who came through the door.
Tom sat drinking a beer and watching the door. Who was Julie? What did she want? Tom would soon find out.
A girl came in a few minutes later. She had long blonde hair,
and was wearing jeans. The girl looked round the bar, then walked over to Tom's table.
*Hi,' she said. 'I'm Julie.' 'Hello,' he said. 'I'm Tom. Please sit down.' She sat down. The waiter came over. 'Would you like a drink?' said Tom. 'A coffee, please,' she said. The waiter nodded and left. 'So you're Tom,' Julie said. 'You look just like your photograph. Angela showed me a picture of you.'
'But how did you find me?' Tom asked.
'I went to the British Consulate today,' Julie explained. 'I spoke to Mr Pennington; he told me the name of your hotel. I knew you were coming to Istanbul and I wanted to speak to you.'
She looked round nervously.
'Listen, Tom,' she went on. 'There's something strange going on. What do you know about Angela's accident?'
'Only what the Consulate told me today,' said Tom. He told Julie about his conversation with Mr Pennington.
'And are you satisfied?' she asked.
Tom looked at her.
'Tell me what you think,' he said slowly.
'All right,' said Julie. 'Let's start at the beginning. Angela came to Istanbul two months ago. I met her at a party soon after she arrived and we became good friends. At the beginning, she was happy. She enjoyed her job, she liked working for her boss...'
'Diinya ?'
'That's right. Everything was fine. I saw her quite often. We used to have lunch together, and go sightseeing. And then, two weeks ago something happened. Angela seemed worried about something - something to do with her work. I asked her what was wrong but she didn't want to talk about it. Then one lunch-time we were together in a restaurant and suddenly Diinya came in. The moment she saw him, she became nervous. I think she was afraid of him.'
'Go on,' Tom said.
'Well, I don't know anything else. She never told me what she was worried about. I saw her a few more times, and then she had the accident.'
She looked at Tom.
'But it is strange, isn't it?' Julie went on. 'She was worried about something - her job, or her boss, or something. But she wouldn't talk about it. And then she had an accident.'
She stopped.
'That's all,' she said. 'That's what I wanted to tell you.'
Tom leant across the table.
'Shall I tell you something?' he said quietly. 'Yesterday, on the way into Istanbul, I saw her.'
Julie stared at him.
'Where?' she asked.
'I was in the airport bus, coming into the city. We were in Millet Street near Aksaray. Angela was going into a building with two men.'
'What do you mean, going into a building? Which building?'
'Well, I don't know. There are a lot of offices in the building. I went there today. There was a dentist, and a doctor...'
'Doctor,' said Julie. 'That's interesting.'
'What do you mean?'
'Angela had a virus two weeks ago - a bad attack. She was getting pills from a doctor. That explains it - she needed more pills, or treatment. She was going to a doctor!'
Tom thought for a moment.
'So that's where she was going,' he said. 'To the doctor's. Maybe I can go and ask the doctor a few questions.'
Julie looked worried.
'Be careful, Tom,' she said.
'What do you mean?'
'Just be careful,' she repeated. 'Something strange is happening. It could be dangerous for you if you ask too many questions.'
'OK,' said Tom. 'But I'm sure Angela is in this city somewhere. She's in trouble. The police and the Consulate say she's dead, so they won't help. But I think she's alive. She's in Istanbul somewhere, and I'm not leaving until I find her!'
CHAPTER NINE
'Goodbye, Mr Diinya'
Later that evening Tom phoned Kemal. He told him about his meeting with Julie. Kemal listened while Tom explained what had happened.
'OK,' he said, when Tom had finished. 'Listen - I think I understand what's happening. Angela was working for Diinya. Right?'
'Yes.'
'And then she was worried about something - something at work. Right?'
'Yes.'
'OK, and then she had her accident. But it wasn't an accident. Tom - you know what I think? I think Angela is alive. She's here somewhere in Istanbul. Diinya is holding her prisoner.'
'What?'
'Think about it, Tom. Angela was worried about something at work. We think it was something to do with Diinya and his export business. And now she has disappeared. But she isn't dead - there was no car accident - Diinya is holding her prisoner, I'm sure of it.'
'But,' began Tom. 'I don't...'
'Listen, Tom,' continued Kemal, 'what about the man in the Topkapi Palace today - the man who followed us? You know what I think, Tom? I think Diinya and his friends have been watching you since you arrived in Istanbul. They know where you are staying, they know you went to the Consulate, and that's how they followed us to the Palace today. They know everything about you, Tom.'
'God,' said Tom quietly. 'My God, Kemal, I think you're right. You must be right. But what are we going to do now?'
'I'll tell you,' said Kemal. 'They know where you are staying and they know you're looking for Angela. That's why they're watching you. They want to find out what you do next. Well, I'll tell you what you're going to do next. You're going to leave Istanbul. Now listen...'
Next morning, Tom checked out of his hotel.
'Thank you,' he said to the receptionist, 'and goodbye.'
'Leaving Istanbul?'
'Yes, I'm going home.'
'Goodbye, sir. Have a good journey.'
Tom took a taxi to Diinya's office. The driver stopped outside.
'Wait here, please,' said Tom. 'I'll be back in a few minutes.'
He went into the office.
'Good morning,' he said to the secretary. 'Is Mr Diinya here? I've come to say goodbye.'
She went to the office. Mr Diinya came out.
'Ah, Mr Smith.'
'Good morning, Mr Diinya. I've come to say goodbye.'
'Leaving so soon?'
'Yes. I went to the British Consulate yesterday and spoke to Mr Pennington. It seems there's nothing I can do here. I'm going back to London. Thank you for your help.'
'You're welcome, Mr Smith. Once again, I'm very sorry about your fiancee. I'm sorry your visit to Istanbul wasn't a happy one.'
'Thank you and goodbye. My plane leaves at midday.'
'At midday? I see. Goodbye, Mr Smith. Have a good journey.'
The two men shook hands. Tom turned and left the office. His taxi was waiting.
'The airport, please,' he said as he got in.
The taxi moved off. Another car, parked twenty metres away, moved away from the pavement and started following.
At the airport, Tom walked over to the British Airways desk. He asked about the flight to London, but he did not check in. Then he bought a newspaper and sat down to wait. He looked round the busy airport.
Somewhere among all these people, he thought, someone is watching me.
He opened his newspaper and started reading. Then there was an announcement over the loudspeaker: 'British Airways announce the departure of their flight TK979 for London. Will Passengers please proceed to Gate 6 for boarding.'
Tom picked up his things and walked towards passport control. There were lots of people at the entrance to passport control. Tom went into the crowd of people and moved towards a large man whose relatives were saying goodbye. Suddenly he turned and went into the men's toilet. In the toilet he took off his jacket and started to wash his hands and face. No one followed him into the toilet. Then there was another announcement: British Airways Flight TK979 for London. This is the final announcement. Will passengers please proceed immediately to Gate 6. This gate is now closing.'
Tom heard the announcement but didn't move. He looked at his watch, and smiled to himself.
The man in the grey raincoat walked over to the telephone kiosks and dialled a number.
'Hello? I saw him leave. Yes - he's on the plane.' The man put the phone down and walked away towards the exit.
Half an hour later, Tom was in a taxi on his way to Kemal's flat in Sisli.
Kemal opened the door.
'Hello, Tom,' he smiled. 'Everything OK?'
'No problem,' smiled Tom. 'I went into the crowd at passport control. Then I hid in the toilet at the last minute.'
'Well done. Diinya and his friends will think you have gone back to London. Now you can stay here in my flat and we can start looking for Angela.'
'And we know where to start, don't we?'
'Yes - Diinya's office,' replied Kemal.
CHAPTER TEN
An Important Discovery
Kemal and Tom had something to eat. Then they sat down and made their plans for the evening.
'We'll watch Diinya's office this evening,' said Kemal. 'When he comes out we'll follow him. Then we'll find out where he lives.'
'Won't that be dangerous for me?' asked Tom. 'He knows me, remember. What if he sees me?'
Kemal smiled and stood up.
'I've thought about that. And I've got just what you need. Look.'
Kemal opened a drawer.
'Put this on,' he said.
'A wig!' said Tom.
'And a false moustache, too. Go on, try them on.'
Tom put on the wig and moustache. He looked in the mirror.
'No one will recognise me now,' he laughed. 'Not even my own mother!'
'Good,' said Kemal. 'And if you also wear dark glasses you will be completely disguised.'
It was seven o'clock and the shops and small businesses in the quiet street were closing.
Tom and Kemal sat in the car, waiting patiently. 'He'll be leaving soon,' said Tom.
Further down the street, they could see the entrance to Diinya's office. They sat in silence, watching. Time passed slowly. Ten past seven, quarter past, then suddenly - 'There he is,' whispered Tom. 'That's him.'
Diinya came out of his office and locked the door carefully behind him. He looked along the street. Then walked over to a grey Mercedes car and got in.
The Mercedes moved away from the pavement and drove along the street. It turned right onto the main road.
'Let's go,' said Kemal and drove down the street. They turned right, following the Mercedes. The main road was busy, and they drove along in the traffic.
'There it is,' said Kemal. 'About fifty metres away, in front of that taxi.'
'Careful,' said Tom. 'Don't drive too close. Stay behind the taxi.'
They drove along the main road, watching the Mercedes.
'He's turning left.'
'OK.'
Tom and Kemal followed.
They were now driving along the wide street beside the sea. For twenty minutes they drove towards the suburbs of the city. Now they were outside the city centre and the traffic was moving faster. The Mercedes turned off the main road.
'Slow down,' said Tom. 'You're too near.'
They slowed down until the Mercedes had turned the corner, then drove faster. When they turned the corner, the road was empty.
'Damn,' said Kemal, and drove faster. They crossed another side street, and looked quickly right and left.
'Left,' said Tom. 'There he is!'
They turned and drove along a quiet street of private villas. This was the most dangerous part because there was not much traffic. If Diinya looked round now, he would see that someone was following him...
'He's stopping,' said Kemal, as he saw the Mercedes' brake lights going on.
Kemal drove slowly. The Mercedes was now fifty metres in front of them.
'He's turning,' said Kemal.
The Mercedes turned off the street and drove through the gates of a large villa. The villa was surrounded by trees and bushes. Already the gates were closing behind it as the Mercedes drove up to the house.
Tom and Kemal drove past the closed gate and continued along the street.
'Well,' said Tom. 'That's where Diinya lives.'
'That's a start,' said Kemal. 'Come on, let's go home now.'
Back in Kemal's flat, they discussed what they had seen.
'I think that Angela is in the villa,' said Tom.
Kemal agreed.
'What do we do now?' asked Tom. 'We can't get into the villa. There are probably men guarding it.'
'I agree,' said Kemal. 'We think she's in the villa but we can't get in there.'
'It doesn't matter. The villa isn't important,' said Tom.
'What do you mean?'
'Think about it,' Tom replied. 'Remember what Julie said. Angela was worried about something at work. She worked in the office, she never went to the villa. So what we're looking for is in the office. The villa isn't important.'
'You're right,' said Kemal. He stood up and walked over to the window. 'Listen, you've been inside the office, what's it like?'
'When you go in the door,' Tom told him, 'there's the window, and a small reception desk. Then there's an office, and a door to Diinya's private office at the back.'
'Anything else?'
Tom tried to remember the inside of the office.
'Yes,' he said. 'There's a door, another door, at the back.'
'OK,' said Kemal. 'They must have a workshop or a store through that door. That's where they'll keep all the things they export. So somehow we have to have a look inside...'
Kemal thought for a moment.
'I've got an idea,' he said suddenly. 'Diinya exports onyx ornaments to England. My parents sell things like that in their shop. So, if I had a box of ornaments and I wanted to sell them very cheaply, who would buy them from me?'
Ibrahim Diinya was alone in his private office. He was working at his desk, finishing some paperwork. He always did his paperwork alone before going home.
He looked at his watch. Another ten minutes, then he would be finished.
There was a knock at the door.
Diinya looked up from his papers. He didn't move. There was another knock, louder this time.
He put the papers in his desk and locked it. Then he got up and went out into the office. He could see a man outside, standing in the doorway.
'We're closed,' he said through the glass door. 'Come back tomorrow.'
'I'm sorry,' said the man. 'It's urgent, please.'
Diinya was annoyed. He unlocked the door and opened it.
'We're closed. Can't you see?'
'I'm very sorry to bother you,' said Kemal. 'But I was hoping to find someone here. I have a problem. You see, I need some money quickly. I must have it tomorrow morning, early. It's for well, it doesn't matter why I need the money. That's my problem. But I have some onyx ornaments to sell and I heard you would be interested.'
He held out a beautiful onyx ashtray.
'Would you be interested in buying fifty of these?'
Diinya took the ashtray and looked at it carefully. Kemal could see he was interested.
'Very good quality,' said Kemal.
'Fifty, did you say?'
'That's right. They're in the car outside.'
'How much do you want?' Diinya asked. '15,000 lira for fifty,' said Kemal.
'That's too much,' said Diinya. 'I'll give you 5000.'
'Please - I need the money urgently,' said Kemal.
'Then you will accept 5000,' said Diinya.
Kemal looked disappointed.
'All right.' he said. 'You can have them for 6000 lira. They're in a big box in the car. Could you help me carry them? They're very heavy.'
Diinya went with him to the car. Together they carried the box into the office.
'This is really very kind of you,' said Kemal. 'They are heavy.'
They carried the box to the back of the office. Kemal looked quickly at the door.
'Have you got a store somewhere?' he asked. 'I'm sure you don't want the box in your office.'
Diinya thought for a moment. He looked at the large box in his small office and said, 'One moment.'
He took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. They picked up the box and carried it through into the workshop. It was a long, wide room, with windows on one side. There were a lot of articles in the room - onyx tables, lamps, ornaments, brass and leather articles. On a workbench, there were rows of tools and cutting equipment.
'This is fine,' said Diinya. 'Put it down here.'
They put down the box.
Diinya took out his wallet. '6000 lira,' he said.
At that moment the telephone in his office rang. Diinya looked annoyed.
'Excuse me one moment,' he said to Kemal.
He went back to his private office.
Kemal looked at his watch and smiled as Diinya disappeared through the door. Quickly he looked round the workshop. There was a door at the other end. He looked out of the windows.
Outside there was a small courtyard, and at one end of the courtyard, a wall, two metres high.
On the workbench at the end of the workshop, there were several onyx table lamps. Kemal looked quickly at them. They had been cut in half with a cutting instrument. The inside had been removed. Kemal looked closely.
Suddenly Kemal heard Diinya say goodbye. He turned quickly away from the workbench.
'Sorry to keep you waiting,' Diinya said as he came back in.
'Not at all,' said Kemal. 'I can see you're a very busy man.'
Diinya counted out 6000 lira.
'Thank you,' said Kemal. 'I really need this money. Well, I won't take any more of your time.'
Diinya walked with him to the door into the street.
'Thanks again,' said Kemal. 'Goodnight.'
'Goodnight,' said Diinya, and closed the door.
Kemal went back to his car and drove home. Tom was waiting for him.
'Did it work?' he asked, as Kemal came into the apartment.
'Perfectly,' smiled Kemal. 'My brother phoned just at the right moment, when we were in the workshop. Diinya believed my story, too. And he gave me a very low price for the onyx.'
'What did you see in the workshop?'
Kemal looked serious.
'Well, not very much, I'm afraid. It's just a workshop, or a store. There were lots of onyx and leather articles, brass and tools. And there were some onyx lamps being repaired, I think. But there's a courtyard outside, and another building opposite. I'm sure that it belongs to Diinya. And more important - there's a wall at one end of the courtyard, which isn't too high
'Meaning?'
'Meaning that it wouldn't be too difficult to climb over it.'
CHAPTER TWELVE
Disaster!
The next morning, after breakfast, Tom and Kemal sat looking at a street map of Istanbul. 'Look here,' Kemal said. He pointed to a small street.
'Diinya's shop is in this street. Now, look at the street behind his shop. We'll have to find a way into the courtyard from that side.'
'Do you know that part of the city?' asked Tom.
'Not very well. As far as I remember, there are only offices, warehouses and workshops there. At night it will be quiet, but we'll have to be very careful.'
'OK, we'll do it tonight,' said Tom.
They left Kemal's flat in Sisli at ten o'clock and drove across the city to Diinya's shop. They parked the car two blocks from the workshop. There were not many street lights there and it was dark.
'Come on,' said Kemal. 'We must walk from here.'
They walked along the dark streets. They were both wearing dark clothes. They came to the street which ran behind Diinya's workshop and courtyard.
'You see?' said Kemal quietly. 'Only offices, warehouses and workshops - nobody lives in this street. The courtyard must be up this alleyway, behind these buildings.'
They looked up and down the dark street. No cars, no one in sight.
'Let's go,' whispered Kemal.
They walked quickly up the alleyway. Tom's heart was beating fast, his mouth dry with fear. They stood behind one of the warehouses, beside the courtyard wall. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked.
'Help me up,' whispered Kemal. 'Quietly!'
Tom stood with his back against the wall. He held his hands together. Kemal put his foot in Tom's hands and reached up.
'OK,' Kemal whispered.
Kemal looked carefully over the wall. The courtyard was empty.
Kemal pulled himself up and sat on top of the wall.
'Give me your hand,' whispered Kemal down to Tom. 'I'll pull you up.'
Tom reached up. Kemal took his hand and pulled. Tom put his other hand on the top of the wall and climbed on to the wall beside Kemal.
Kemal dropped silently to the ground in the courtyard. Suddenly there was a noise. It came from inside the workshop.
Kemal pointed to the side. They hurried silently over to the wall, and waited.
Another noise. A door opened and closed inside the workshop. A light came on in the workshop and shone out across the courtyard. Tom and Kemal stood frozen against the wall. They expected a door to open and men to run out into the courtyard. But nothing happened. They heard people talking and moving about inside. Kemal put his mouth close to Tom's ear.
'This is our only chance,' he whispered. 'We have to try to see what they're doing in there.'
They moved very slowly towards the window. It was so quiet that Tom could hear his heart beating. At last they were going to find out what was happening.
There were some men in the workshop. One of them was working with an onyx table lamp. The lamp had been cut in half. He put a small plastic bag inside the lamp. Then he fixed the two halves of the lamp together again.
Tom looked at all the onyx and brass ornaments, the cutting tools, the pile of plastic bags on the table. Suddenly he understood what was happening.
Ornaments for export to England, and inside the ornaments - opium!
'So that's it!' he whispered to Kemal. 'They're smuggling drugs in the ornaments!'
Tom stepped back from the window. Perhaps he was excited by what he had seen. Perhaps he forgot where he was. But suddenly, he put his foot on a stone and slipped.
He put out his hand and knocked against a piece of wood. The piece of wood fell to the ground with a loud crash.
A light came on, a door opened, and men rushed out.
'Run!' shouted Kemal.
'Stop!' shouted a man. 'Catch them!'
Seconds later, Tom and Kemal were at the wall. They jumped, but Tom was too slow. One of the men caught his legs and pulled him to the ground.
Kemal turned to help Tom. Then it was too late. The other men jumped up and pulled him back into the courtyard. A few seconds later it was all over. Tom and Kemal were prisoners.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Journey Into Danger
'This way! Hurry up!' said one of the men, pushing Tom and Kemal towards the door of the workshop.
'Get inside!' said the man.
Tom and Kemal stepped inside and stopped, shocked. Diinya was standing in the workshop. He had a gun in his hand. For a few seconds he stared at them silently.
'Well, well,' he said slowly, 'our friend, the Englishman. Very clever. Oh, yes, very clever. And you!'
His face was red with anger as he looked at Kemal. He stepped forward and hit Kemal in the face. Tom moved forward.
'Don't move, or I'll kill you now,' said Diinya. The gun was pointing at Tom. 'Get over there.'
Tom and Kemal stood beside the workbench. Diinya looked at them both for a long moment.
'So,' he said finally. 'You have seen all this.' He pointed to the plastic bags and the onyx ornaments. 'Very clever of you. We should have killed the English girl before. Then this would never have happened.'
'Where is she?' asked Tom. 'Where is Angela?'
'Oh, don't worry about her. She's OK. Let's say - she is a guest at my villa. You'll be able to speak to her very soon - I'm sure you'll have a lot to talk about - before you all die!'
He laughed - a cold, cruel laugh.
'OK, let's go, said Diinya to his men. 'We're taking these two with us.'
The men pushed Tom and Kemal out of the workshop and through the shop to the door. The Mercedes stood in the street.
'Get inside,' said Diinya.
Tom looked up and down the street. But there was no one there to help them.
'Don't try anything foolish, Englishman. You can't escape. Get in.'
Tom and Kemal sat in the back of the car, with a man on each side of them. The others got in the front. They drove away from the shop, turned on to the main road, and drove across the city towards the suburbs.
'Take a look,' said Diinya, smiling. 'Istanbul by night. So many people, so much life. Take your last look at it, you foolish young men. It's the last time you'll see it.'
'What,' began Tom, 'has Angela got to do with this?'
'We needed her at the beginning,' replied Diinya. 'She was very useful. She helped us to arrange the export of the things to England. She didn't know anything about our - our other business. But one day, she left something in the office, and came back for it in the evening. Most unfortunate for her. She saw what we were doing. After that, I could not let her go.'
'Where is she?' asked Tom urgently.
'Ah - I'm not a cruel man,' replied Diinya. 'I did not kill her. I have kept her in my villa.'
'That's because you didn't know what to do,' said Tom.
'Exactly. But we have no choice now. You know too much about us.'
'What about the drugs when they arrive in Europe?' asked Tom.
'That's easy,' replied Diinya. 'We have friends in England. The goods are delivered to dealers in England and our friends buy them. Your fiancee helped us a lot. I shall soon be rich - very rich.'
The Mercedes turned off the main road, and drove along the small street towards Diinya's villa. The car drove in through the gates of the villa, up to the house. It stopped near the front door. It was a big villa with three floors. There were steps leading up to the front door.
'Out,' said Diinya.
They got out of the car. There was one small light above the front door of the villa. The rest of the house was in complete darkness. Tom looked around - he was looking for a way to escape. Diinya saw him.
'If you try to escape, I'll shoot you,' he said. 'Now, get inside.'
They started walking up the steps to the front door.
'STOP!' shouted a voice.
Suddenly a blinding light came on. The garden of the villa was full of men running towards them. For a second Diinya stood frozen on the steps, shocked. Then he ran towards the door. It opened suddenly and two men jumped out. They had guns pointing at Diinya.
'Stop! This is the police. Stop or we'll shoot!'
Diinya dropped his gun and slowly put his hands above his head. His men did the same.
'The police,' Kemal said. 'We're safe.'
At that moment the door of the villa opened and a girl ran out.
'Tom!' she shouted. 'Tom!'
Tom turned round quickly.
'Angela!' For a long time they stood, unable to speak, holding each other.
'Oh, Tom,' said Angela. 'You're here at last!'
He looked into her eyes. 'Angela, my love,' he whispered. 'Are you all right?'
'Oh, yes, I'm all right. I'm fine. The police came here to the villa about an hour ago. We knew you were coming, the police were following you. Oh, Tom, I was so worried that Diinya would kill you.'
She put her arms round him again.
'Oh,' said Tom suddenly. 'Angela, my love, I want you to meet a very good friend of mine.' He turned and smiled at Kemal.
'Angela, this is Kemal.'
'Hello, Kemal, nice to meet you,' said Angela.
'Hello,' he said. 'I've never met you before, but I feel I know you very well!'
They laughed.
'Kemal has been wonderful,' said Tom. 'Without his help, we wouldn't be here now.'
'Oh, I only helped you a little,' said Kemal.
'A little!' said Tom.
They watched as Diinya and his men were taken to a police car.
'How did the police know what was happening?' asked Tom.
At that moment a car drove up to the villa. A man got out of the car and walked towards them. He smiled.
'Hello, Mr Smith,' he said. 'We meet again.'
'Mr Pennington!' smiled Tom.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Time for a Holiday
Later that night, Tom, Kemal and Angela were relaxing. They were sitting in Mr Pennington's flat in the Consulate building. David Pennington was telling them what had happened.
'Julie came to see me here at the Consulate,' he explained. 'She told me about her conversation with Tom. Then I was convinced that Tom's story was true. I contacted the Turkish police again. After that I tried to contact you, Tom, but you had left your hotel. We thought you'd gone back to England.'
'No,' smiled Tom. He looked at Angela. 'I had some urgent business here in Istanbul.'
They all laughed.
'How did they treat you in the villa?' asked Tom.
'They treated me very well,' replied Angela. 'When my virus was very bad, they took me to the doctor. But I was terribly worried on the Monday you were arriving in Istanbul. Diinya knew you were coming because I had told him earlier. And I knew he was going to send someone to follow you. I was terribly worried.'
'They made a big mistake when they took you to the doctor,' said Tom. 'If I had not seen you from the bus...'
'Don't,' said Angela, 'don't even think about it.'
'What about the car accident?' said Kemal. 'How did they arrange that? I wonder whose body was in the burnt out car?'
There was silence while they thought about that. 'The police will have to find that out,' said Pennington finally.
'It was a very clever plan of Diinya's,' said Tom. 'Very clever.'
'Yes,' agreed Pennington. 'And drug-smugglers like Diinya can make millions of pounds.'
'Well - it's over now,' said Angela. She turned to Tom. 'Do you remember the letter I wrote to you Tom? I said that life here in Istanbul is very interesting. I was right, wasn't I?'
They all laughed.
'Yes,' said Tom, 'a little bit too interesting for me! After all this, do you know what I want?'
'What?'
'I want a really dull, uninteresting holiday in Istanbul!'
And I'm Ryan Geertsma. Spotlight uses a special English method of broadcasting. It is easier for people to understand, no matter where in the world they live.
Voice 3
"A question brought me to the point of ending my life when I was fifty years old. My question was the most simple one that lies in every person...It is the question without which life is impossible: Why do I live? Why do I wish for anything, or do anything?...Is there anything in my life that will not be destroyed by my death?"
Voice 1
These are the words of the famous Russian writer Leo Tolstoy. Like Tolstoy, many people ask these difficult questions. And they struggle to find meaning in their life. Tolstoy spent his whole life trying to answer difficult questions like these. His search for answers influenced his writing. Today's Spotlight is on Leo Tolstoy, his faith and his writings.
Voice 2
On August 28th, 1828 Leo Nikolayevich Tolstoy was born in the country of Russia. Both of his parents died while he was still a child. He and his brothers and sisters lived with other family members for the rest of their childhoods.
Voice 1
As a child, Tolstoy was a member of the Russian Orthodox Church*. But as a young man, he began to question that faith. Tolstoy wanted to make his own moral decisions; he was tired of being told what to believe. He thought people could achieve a degree of perfection - if they tried hard enough. So he worked very hard at being the best in everything he did. He thought that he would find meaning and truth in success.
Voice 2
In the 1850s, Leo Tolstoy wrote his first stories. He wrote about his experiences in the military. He also told stories about when he was a child. These works were published and Tolstoy became a well-known writer.
Voice 1
Tolstoy was finally successful. He earned the respect he always wanted. Many wealthy and intelligent men met and talked with Tolstoy. Some of the men were writers like him. They talked a lot about faith and the meaning of life. But soon Tolstoy recognized that these men were not perfect. They were proud and they made very bad moral choices. Tolstoy had thought these rich and powerful men could answer his questions about faith. Now he knew they could not.
Voice 2
So in the 1860s, Tolstoy tried a different way to find meaning. He opened a school for the children of his serfs - the people who worked on his land. These workers were very poor. He wanted to help them because he thought they were more honest than the wealthy people he knew.
Voice 1
Tolstoy learned many things from his workers. He respected how they worked hard to provide for their families. He began to believe that marriage and family would give his life meaning. So in 1862, Leo Tolstoy married a young woman named Sonya Bers.
Voice 2
The next 15 years were the best years of Tolstoy's life. It was during this time that he wrote his most famous books - "War and Peace" and "Anna Karenina." Many literature experts say that "War and Peace" is one of the greatest books ever written.
Voice 1
Both "War and Peace" and "Anna Karenina" communicate Tolstoy's beliefs about the Russian nation, church and people. They also communicate what he thought was the answer to all his questions. Tolstoy believed humans were supposed to live a simple life and take care of their families. Tolstoy thought this would satisfy him and bring him happiness.
Voice 2
But after writing these books, Tolstoy entered into a dark depression. He was very sad and lonely. He had achieved everything he wanted. He had a large family, a loving wife and all the respect and money he could ever want. But he could not help wondering if any of that would matter after his death. Leo Tolstoy began wondering if believing in God would answer his questions about life. For nine years he wrote only about faith and religion.
At five o'clock on a September afternoon Ronald Torbay was making preparations for his third murder. He was being very careful. He realized that murdering people becomes more dangerous if you do it often.
He was in the bathroom of the house that he had recently rented. For a moment he paused to look in the mirror. The face that looked back at him was thin, middle-aged and pale. Dark hair, a high forehead and well-shaped blue eyes. Only the mouth was unusual - narrow and quite straight. Even Ronald Torbay did not like his own mouth.
A sound in the kitchen below worried him. Was Edyth coming up to have her bath before he had prepared it for her? No, it was all right; she was going out of the back door. From the window he saw her disappearing round the side of the house into the small square garden. It was exactly like all the other gardens in the long street. He didn't like her to be alone there. She was a shy person, but now new people had moved into the house next door, and there was a danger of some silly woman making friends with her. He didn't want that just now.
***
Each of his three marriages had followed the same pattern. Using a false name, he had gone on holiday to a place where no one knew him. There he had found a middle-aged, unattractive woman, with some money of her own and no family. He had talked her into marrying him, and she had then agreed to make a will which left him all her money. Both his other wives had been shy, too. He was very careful to choose the right type of woman: someone who would not make friends quickly in a new place.
Mary, the first of them, had had her deadly 'accident' almost unnoticed, in the bathroom of the house he had rented - a house very like this one, but in the north of England instead of the south. The police had not found anything wrong. The only person who was interested was a young reporter on the local newspaper. He had written something about death in the middle of happiness, and had printed photographs of Mary's wedding and her funeral, which took place only three weeks after the wedding.
Dorothy had given him a little more trouble. It was not true that she was completely alone in the world, as she had told him. Her brother had appeared at the funeral, and asked difficult questions about her money. There had been a court case, but Ronald had won it, and the insurance company had paid him the money.
All that was four years ago. Now, with a new name, a newly invented background, and a different area to work in, he felt quite safe.
From the moment he saw Edyth, sitting alone at a little table in the restaurant of a seaside hotel, he knew she was his next 'subject'. He could see from her face that she was not happy. And he could also see that she was wearing a valuable ring.
After dinner he spoke to her. She did not want to talk at first, but in the end he managed to start a conversation. After that, everything went as he expected. His methods were old-fashioned and romantic, and by the end of a week she was in love with him.
Her background was very suitable for Ronald's purpose. After teaching at a girls' school for ten years, she had gone home to look after her sick father and had stayed with him until he died. Now, aged forty-three, she was alone, with a lot of money, and she didn't know what to do with herself.
Five weeks after they met, Ronald married her, in the town where they were both strangers. The same afternoon they both made a will leaving all their property to each other. Then they moved into the house which he had rented cheaply because the holiday season was at an end. It was the most pleasant of his marriages. He found Edyth a cheerful person, and even quite sensible - except that it was stupid of her to believe that a man would fall in love with her at first sight. Ronald knew he must not make the mistake of feeling sorry for her. He began to make plans for 'her future', as he called it.
***
Two things made him do this earlier than he intended. One was the way she refused to talk about her money. She kept all her business papers locked in a desk drawer, and refused to discuss them. His other worry was her unnecessary interest in his job. Ronald had told Edyth that he was a partner in an engineering company, which was giving him a long period of absence. Edyth accepted the story, but she asked a lot of questions and wanted to visit his office and the factory.
So Ronald had decided that it was time to act.
He turned from the window, and began to run water into the bath. His heart was beating loudly, he noticed. He didn't like that. He needed to keep very calm.
The bathroom was the only room they had painted. He had done it himself soon after they arrived. He had also put up the little shelf over the bath which held their bottles and creams and a small electric heater. It was a cheap one, with two bars, and it was white, like the walls, and not too noticeable. There was no electric point in the bathroom, but he was able to connect the heater to a point just outside the door.
He turned on the heater now, and watched the bars become red and hot. Then he went out of the room. The controls for all the electricity in the house were inside a cupboard at the top of the stairs. Ronald opened the door carefully and pulled up the handle which turned off the electricity. (He had a cloth over his hand, so that he would not leave fingerprints.)
Back in the bathroom the bars of the heater were turning black again. Still using the cloth, he lifted the heater from the shelf and put it into the bath water, at the bottom end of the bath. Of course, you could still see it. It looked as if it had fallen off the shelf by accident.
Edyth was coming back from the garden: he could hear her moving something outside the kitchen door. He pulled a small plastic bottle out of his pocket and began to read again the directions on the back.
A small sound behind him made him turn suddenly. There was Edyth's head, only two metres away, appearing above the flat roof of the kitchen which was below the bathroom window. She was clearing the dead leaves from the edge of the roof. She must be standing on the ladder which was kept outside the kitchen door.
He stayed calm. 'What are you doing there, dear?'
Edyth was so surprised that she nearly fell oft the ladder. 'Oh, you frightened me! I thought I'd just do this little job before I came to get ready.'
'But I'm preparing your beauty bath tor you.'
'It's kind of you to take all this trouble, Ronald.'
'Not at all. I'm taking you out tonight and I want you to look as nice as - er - possible. Hurry up, dear. The bubbles don't last very long, and like all these beauty treatments, this one's expensive. Go and undress now, and come straight here.'
'Very well, dear.' She began to climb down the ladder.
Ronald opened the little bottle, and poured the liquid into the bath. He turned on the water again, and in a moment the bath was lull of bubbles, smelling strongly of roses. They covered the little heater completely; they even covered the sides of the bath.
Edyth was at the door. 'Oh Ronald! Its all over everything - even on the floor!'
'That doesn't matter. You get in quickly, before it loses its strength. I'll go and change now. Get straight in and lie down. It will give your skin a bit of colour!'
He went out and paused, listening. She locked the door, as he expected. He walked slowly to the electricity box, and forced himself to wait another minute.
'How is it?' he shouted.
'I don't know yet. I've only just got into the bath. It smells nice.'
His hand, covered with the cloth, was on the controls.
'One, two ... three,' he said, and pulled the handle down. A small explosion from the electric point behind him told him that the electricity had gone off. Then everything was silent.
After a time he went and knocked on the bathroom door. 'Edyth?'
There was no answer, no sound, nothing.
Now he had to prepare the second stage. As he knew well, this was the difficult bit. The discovery of the body must be made, but not too soon. He had made that mistake with Dorothy's 'accident', and the police had asked him why he had got worried so soon. This time he decided to wait half an hour before he began to knock loudly on the bathroom door, then to shout for a neighbour and finally to force the lock.
There was something he wanted to do now. Edyth's leather writing-case, which contained all her private papers, was in the drawer where she kept her blouses. He had discovered it some time ago, but he had not forced the lock open because that would frighten her. Now there was nothing to stop him.
He went softly into the bedroom and opened the drawer. The case was there. The lock was more difficult than he expected, but he finally managed to open the case. Inside there were some financial documents, one or two thick envelopes and, on top of these, her Post Office Savings book.
He opened it with shaking fingers, and began reading the figures - 17,000 ... 18,600 ... 21,940 ... He turned over a page, and his heart jumped wildly.
On 4th September she had taken almost all the money out of her savings account!
Perhaps it was here, in these thick envelopes? He opened one of them; papers, letters, documents fell on the floor.
Suddenly he saw an envelope with his own name on it, in Edyth's writing. He pulled it open, and saw in surprise that the date on the letter was only two days ago.
Dear Ronald,
If you ever read this, I am afraid it will he a terrible shock to you. I hoped it would not he necessary to write it, but now your behaviour has forced me to face some very unpleasant possibilities.
Did you not realize, Ronald, that any middle-aged woman who has been rushed into marriage to a stranger will ask herself about her husband's reason for marrying her?
At first I thought I was in love with you, but when you asked me to make my will on our wedding day, I began to worry. And then, when you started making changes to the bathroom in this house, I decided to act quickly. So I went to the police.
Have you noticed that the people who have moved into the house next door have never spoken to you? Well, they are not a husband and wife, but a police inspector and a policewoman. The policewoman showed me two pieces from old newspapers, both about women who had died from accidents in their baths soon after their marriages. Both pieces included a photograph of the husband at the funeral. They were not very clear, but I was able to recognize you. So I realized that it was my duty to agree to do what the inspector asked me to do. (The police have been looking for the man since the photographs were given to them by your second wife's brother.) The inspector said the police needed to be sure that you were guilty: you must be given the opportunity to try the crime again. That's why I am forcing myself to be brave, and to play my part.
I want to tell you something, Ronald. If one day you lose me, out of the bathroom, I mean, you will find that I have gone out over the kitchen roof, and am sitting in the kitchen next door. I was stupid to marry you, but not quite as stupid as you thought.
Yours, Edyth
Ronald's mouth was uglier than ever when he finished reading the letter. The house was still quiet. But in the silence he heard the back door open suddenly, and heavy footsteps rushed up the stairs towards him.
