‘I suppose she knew,’ he replied lamely.
‘Everyone knows but you?’
‘Well, you don’t know either.’
Ersoz smiled and leaned back in his chair. ‘No, we don’t. And that troubles my supervisor greatly. Everything you’ve told us would lead someone to believe this is some kind of conspiracy.’
Lourds didn’t know what to say to that, but the mention of everything being a conspiracy said out in the open like that made the ordeal somehow even more chilling.
‘My supervisor wants to deport you,’ Ersoz said. ‘He has made this very clear.’
Fear rattled through Lourds and he sought desperately for some argument that might allow him to stay in Istanbul. Somehow the fact that he was scheduled to do presentations at the local university didn’t seem compelling enough.
‘However,’ Ersoz went on, ‘your government has interceded on your behalf.’
Lourds was stunned. ‘They have?’
‘Yes. Your state department has been very persuasive in this matter.’ Ersoz held his hands palm up. ‘So, in the interest of good political relations, you’re going to be allowed to stay in Istanbul.’
Relieved, Lourds let out a pent-up breath. He didn’t know what he’d have done if they’d handcuffed him and thrown him on the nearest plane out of the city.
‘Personally,’ Ersoz went on, ‘I like you very much.’ He smiled. ‘My wife would like to meet you. But…’ Lourds waited, torn between dread and elation. ‘I fear for your safety within this city, Professor Lourds. I should hate to see anything untoward happen to you.’
So would I. Lourds nodded. ‘I appreciate those sentiments, Detective Ersoz.’
The policeman dipped his head in acknowledgement. ‘I understand you don’t know who the men were that kidnapped you. We’re working on identifying them. But we have managed to identify two of the men who sought to apprehend you at the airport.’
‘Who were they?’ Lourds didn’t want to know, not really, but he knew Ersoz would expect him to be curious.
‘Terrorists,’ Ersoz said. ‘Political extremists of the Shia faith.’ The policeman’s gaze bored into Lourds’. ‘Do you know why men like that would choose to apprehend you?’
Religious extremists… He knew too much about what religious extremists were capable of. But why would they want him? Lourds swallowed the thick lump at the back of his throat. ‘No. I don’t.’
‘Well, that is something you may wish to find out.’ Ersoz stood up, ‘if you choose to stay in Istanbul.’
Lourds nodded and wished he could leave the city. With the manuscript. That was the only way he was going. Unless, of course, he knew for certain that staying would only get him killed.
‘Am I free to go, then?’ he asked.
‘You are. A man from your state department is here to collect you and take you to your hotel. I told him we could take you, but he insisted.’
Ersoz led the way out into the hall.
An intense dark-haired man in his early thirties, dressed in a suit, sat in a chair in the hallway. Lourds recognized his backpack on the floor beside the man. The man held the manuscript in his manicured hands. A gun butt showed at his belt line. He lifted the manuscript out to show Lourds.
‘Heavy reading, Professor Lourds?’ the man asked. ‘Or are you smuggling documents out of the country?’
11
Istanbul Emniyet Mudurlugu
Vatan Cad./Fatih
Istanbul, Turkey
17 March 2010
Lourds made himself smile instead of throwing up as his stomach lurched with sudden sickness. ‘Heavy reading, I’m afraid. Please be careful with that. It’s very old.’
The man thumped the book and it sounded hollow. ‘Actually, I kind of got that already.’
Without thinking, Lourds stepped up and took the book from him. His hands shook as he put it away.
‘Sorry. I knew it was old. Didn’t know it was important. And it obviously is.’
‘To me,’ Lourds said.
‘I glanced through it. Couldn’t read it.’
‘Unless you know Ancient Greek, I wouldn’t expect you to.’
‘Nope. The drawings look interesting. Some of them are kind of creepy.’
‘I would agree with you.’
‘What’s the book about?’
Lourds hesitated only a moment. ‘Architecture.’
‘I thought so. Early stuff?’
‘I haven’t ascertained that yet.’ Lourds held the book carefully at his side. ‘I’m still translating it.’
With a casual wave, the man indicated the backpack. ‘I see you travel with a lot of books.’
‘I do. Hopefully they have the rest of the books I brought on this trip at the hotel.’
‘I think everything was found. May have a bullet or two in them, from what I understand. I guess you take a lot of work with you wherever you go.’
‘I do.’
‘Ever worry about any of it going missing?’
‘Not really,’ Lourds said, ‘no. Most of the documents I work on while travelling aren’t original. Usually I bring photographs or scanned copies.’
The man smiled. ‘I guess it would be hard to bring in a boulder covered in hieroglyphics.’
‘It would be. Or a wall covered in cuneiform.’
The man’s glance cut back to the book in Lourds’ possession. ‘I guess that’s an exception.’
‘Yes.’ Lourds left it at that.
The man reached into his suit jacket and the pistol was revealed briefly. He unfolded his identification and showed Lourds the photograph and card. ‘My name’s Hayden Mullins. I’m an attaché with the United States State Department here in Turkey.’
‘Are all state department attachés in Istanbul armed?’
‘No. But after the events of your arrival, they decided to make special rules for you.’ Mullins leaned down and caught hold of Lourds’ backpack. ‘If you’ll follow me, I’ve got a car waiting outside.’
Lourds nodded.
Ersoz extended a business card. ‘This has my contact information on it, Professor Lourds. I took the liberty of writing my personal mobile number on the back.’ He flipped the card over to show his neat handwriting. ‘In case you should decide you need something I can provide.’
‘Thank you.’ Lourds took the card. ‘I hope you find the men you’re looking for.’
‘We will, Professor. Istanbul is an old city filled with many old secrets, but rarely do the new secrets go unnoticed. These men, whoever they are, don’t seem to be the type to go away empty-handed.’ Ersoz shrugged. ‘This could be a bad thing for you, but it will give me and the police department another chance to catch them. We will do so successfully. But our timing, let us say, is in the hands of Allah… Do take care of yourself, Professor.’
Not knowing what else to do, Lourds nodded and went to join Mullins.
‘He’s not exactly a Pollyanna, is he?’ Mullins asked when they were well away from Ersoz. ‘He thinks you’re a walking dead man.’
‘I guess he’s got reason to,’ Lourds responded. ‘My trip has been too eventful for his taste. And mine.’
‘A word of advice, Professor?’ Mullins glanced at Lourds.
‘Sure.’
Mullins flicked his gaze to the card in Lourds’ hand. ‘I wouldn’t trust the locals too much, if you know what I mean.’
‘Why?’
‘Everybody in this city has their own personal axe to grind. It would be a pity to see you get ground up as well.’
‘Believe me,’ Lourds said, ‘the last thing I intend to do is get ground up.’
‘So you really don’t know what those jokers wanted?’
Lourds lied without hesitation. ‘No.’
‘Weird, huh?’ Mullins grinned at him. ‘I got to hand it to you, Professor. You have a pair of stones. Most men would be ducking and running for cover after what you’ve been through. But here you are – ready to go and deliver those speeches to college students.’