“She’s going to be all right,” he assured her.
“She’ll never be all right,” Elif responded. “Someone she loves did that to her.”
Kamil found himself reluctant to agree that something so heinous was a daily occurrence, even though he knew better.
“It’s ugly,” she said, half to herself. “Violence is always ugly. I don’t know why some people love it so much.”
The director, nonplussed, stared at the empty bed festooned with Kamil’s handkerchief. “There were no deaths recorded in Ward Three today,” he said in a dry, matter-of-fact voice. “And no transfers authorized. I’m responsible for this hospital, and I’ll find out what happened here. There’s only a limited set of possibilities.”
“Which are?” Kamil asked.
“One, the patient died and the orderlies called the imam to fetch the body for burial without notifying me. Two, the orderlies transferred the patient without permission. Neither of these things has ever occurred under my watch.”
“To your knowledge,” Kamil added.
The director looked at him. “To my knowledge.” Then he turned and walked out of the ward.
Kamil and Feride followed. When they reached his office, he was sitting behind his desk, squinting at a ledger. “I was correct,” he announced triumphantly. “No deaths, no transfers.”
“So where is he?” Kamil couldn’t keep the anger from his voice. He was losing patience.
For a moment, the hospital director fell silent. Then he said, “I’ll find out. Come back tomorrow.” He returned to his ledger.
Kamil walked up to the desk and slammed the ledger shut. “Start now.”
The director made a sour face.” My dear sir, I was looking to see which orderlies were on duty. If you permit.” He opened the ledger again, found the right page, and pulled his finger down a column of neat writing. Then he closed the ledger. “That orderly has already gone home.”
Feride sat in a chair by the door. “I’ll wait here until you bring him.” She looked up at Kamil, who stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. “Brother dear, you have other important matters to deal with. I’m in good hands.”
Doctor Moreno nodded at Kamil, his sidelocks bouncing beneath his hat. “I’ll make sure they get home safely.”
Kamil took Feride’s hand and held it briefly to his lips. “May Allah guide you.”
Feride smiled at the unaccustomed religious sentiment. “Go, you,” she told him, and turned back to the hospital director, who was now deep in conversation with Doctor Moreno.
Kamil placed his hand on Elif’s arm as he left and indicated that she should follow him. Kamil was worried about her. She looked as if she were in a trance, her eyes glazed with unshed tears, and despite her heavy coat, she was shivering. She seemed tensile as glass, as if she might shatter at any moment.
They walked wordlessly down the corridor until they came to an alcove where they wouldn’t be seen.
“What is it?” he asked her. “What can I do?”
Elif’s blue eyes sought his but then slipped away again, focusing on the wool of his cape. Without another word, Kamil put his arms around her shoulders, so frail beneath the bulky coat. He took off her hat and cupped his hand around the base of her head and held it tight against his chest until she stopped shaking.
21
The door opened again, and someone entered carrying a lamp. Vera shut her eyes against the bright light. Her body curled into a ball, preparing for whatever was to come.
“What happened to your light?” Vahid asked pleasantly, pushing aside the remains of food and placing the lamp on the table. In his other hand, he held a glass of steaming tea. “I see you received the food I sent. I’ve brought you some tea.” He set the glass down beside her. “Is there anything more you need? You have water?” He looked at the empty carafe. “I see not. I apologize. I’ll have more sent right away.”
Vera found herself gaping. Did he have no idea what had just happened to her? Had those men acted without his knowledge?
Vahid sat in the chair beside her and crossed his legs, revealing a slim ankle in a white silk sock. Vera found the sight of the white silk so moving it made her want to cry for the lost innocence of her Moscow childhood. Pull yourself together, she told herself crossly. She forced herself to focus on Vahid’s face. He was smiling patiently, like a family doctor making his patient comfortable enough to reveal the wretched failures of her body. He indicated the tea with a nod of his head. “Drink something. You look chilled. I took the liberty of adding sugar.”
Vera reached for the glass. It rattled against her teeth, but the warm, sweet liquid calmed her. She should tell him, she thought with rising fury and indignation. They would be punished for what they did.
“I brought you something.” Vahid reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver hairpin. Red stones depending from delicate chains clicked softly against each other. He stood behind her and ran his fingers through her thick auburn hair, avoiding the area he had cut off. Vera was frozen with terror, wondering what he would do next. Suddenly he twisted her hair into a knot and clumsily inserted the pin so that it scratched her scalp. Her hair fell free again at once, but the pin remained entangled.
Afraid to move, Vera concentrated on controlling her breathing.
Vahid sat back admiringly. “You look lovely like that.”
“Thank you.” Vera breathed out slowly through her nose so he wouldn’t see her chest rise and fall in panic. She sensed it would be worse if he saw how frightened she was. She sat up and attempted a smile. “You’re very kind, sir.”
“You’re welcome. It’s of no importance. I want to make sure you’re comfortable here.”
“I’d like to leave.”
“My dear Lena, there are men outside waiting to arrest you. I hope they haven’t already captured your friend. Here you are safe.”
Vera felt confused. Was she not already under arrest? If these men weren’t the secret police, who were they? “You’ve been very kind. But…” She felt tears coming on and struggled against them.
“Please, my dear girl,” Vahid said, leaning toward her solicitously, “just tell me what’s bothering you, and I’ll see to it that it’s taken care of. You’re under my protection here.”
Did he really not know? Vera wondered, confused. “Your men came in,” she began, but found herself unable to continue.
He looked puzzled. “My men? I sent a girl with the food.”
Vera took heart that he hadn’t known about the men. Perhaps they did it believing she would be too ashamed to tell. The comb looked expensive. Maybe he would help her. “They came in here and took me out. To a room down the hall.”
Vahid waited, frowning with concern. He reached out and took her hand. “Go on, my dear girl.” His hand was warm and Vera found comfort in the gesture.
“They did things to me.” To her horror, she began to weep, her plan to remain in control in shreds. Vahid squatted beside her chair. His hand tangled in her hair and pulled her head to his shoulder, where she wept uncontrollably.
When she had calmed somewhat, he sat back, keeping his arm around her shoulders, his lapel wet with her tears. “Tell me what they did, my dear, and I’ll look into it.”
Taking a ragged breath, Vera said, “They took off my clothes and touched me everywhere.”
“What do you mean by everywhere?” Vahid asked with a frown. “Please explain.”
Vera forced herself to say, “Where only my husband should touch.” It was all she could utter. She couldn’t look at him. She began to feel uncomfortable in his embrace and wanted to push him away, but remembering her plan for escape, she forced herself to remain still.
“You are married?” Vahid asked, glancing at the silver ring on her finger.