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'I adore your passion,' Ìkmen said as he closed his eyes in imitation of one rapt with pleasure.

'My passion?'

'Oh, songs like "I Want None of You", "Hate Is My Only Friend"

"The Blue-green Bird Lies Bleeding" -I could go on and on!'

'Could you?'

'Yes.'

'So where's this doctor you say you've brought?'

All eyes now turned towards Galip who, resentful at having been pushed out of his place on the settee, was eyeing Ìkmen with some hostility.

'The doctor is washing up in your bathroom,' Ìkmen answered with a smile.

Galip's gaze narrowed into one of obvious suspicion. 'How does he know where our bathroom is?'

'Your sister, Miss Latife, actually directed the doctor to it' Suleyman said and then added, 'Oh, and the doctor is a she, actually, Mr Emin. Dr Halman.'

'We felt that a female doctor was far more appropriate for a lady patient, did we not, Inspector?' 'Oh, yes, absolutely.'

'B-but w-where is the d-doctor?' Yilmaz said, his face panicked.

Turning away briefly from Tansu's tear-ravaged face, Ìkmen said, smiling, 'As I said, Dr Halman is washing.'

'Have you any idea how clean a doctor's hands have to be before he or she touches a patient?' Suleyman added.

'I do,' Tansu snapped. 'I've had to have a lot of operations for, er, urn, problems, pain and bad things and ... But neither of these,' she said as she loosely indicated her brothers, 'have ever been in hospital in their lives.'

'Yes, but—'

'You are just an ignorant peasant, Galip!' she shouted harshly. 'Doctors take a long time to prepare. I know, I've suffered, I've lived!'

'Indeed you have,' Ìkmen said as he mugged the falsest smile of his career, 'and as soon as the doctor has finished washing and has looked briefly at your sister she will attend to you.'

Tansu's face flushed. 'My sister . . .'

'Yes,' Ìkmen replied, 'she was, after all, also involved in the accident, wasn't she?'

'Yes.'

'Then a doctor is probably the best person for her to see at this point,' Ìkmen said with a smile. 'Nothing to worry about, I'm sure.'

Just as Tansu turned to look at her brothers the door to the room opened and then closed on a small, plump woman with blonde hair. Everyone looked up in her direction, Ìkmen and Suleyman both rose to their feet.

'Ah, Doctor!' the former said with enthusiasm, and then indicating Tansu, he added, 'Your exalted patient.' .

'Ah.'

The two men walked towards the doctor who, as Ìkmen passed her, murmured something into his ear. Although none of the Ernins could hear it, they eyed each other warily as they observed this exchange.

Ìkmen's face broke out into a broad smile.

'Shall we go, gentlemen?' Suleyman said, looking pointedly at the rather nervous pair of brothers.

'Well, it's only her leg,' Galip began.

'You think,' Dr Halman said as she moved in a very business-like fashion towards her patient, 'but I will have to check Miss Emin for internal trauma too and that,' she said pointedly, 'will necessitate her having to remove her clothes.'

Galip looked at Yilmaz and mouthed, 'I don't like this.' But his brother only shrugged as he rose slowly to his feet.

With a smile, Suleyman said again, 'Gentlemen?' Yilmaz walked slowly across the room, followed at an even slower pace by his brother.

'Now,' Dr Halman said as she sat down next to her patient, 'let me have a look at this leg.'

Chapter16

She was standing in the hallway as the party emerged from the drawing room, her eyes fixed upon the expressions on.the faces of Sergeants Çöktin and Tepe at the bottom of the staircase. Not that Ìkmen was looking at the eyes of Latife Emin. His gaze was firmly fixed upon her shoes which, he saw, were sturdy and 'sensible’. Given what'Dr Halman had just told him, he could clearly see that the left shoe had a thicker sole than the right' Yilmaz, who was standing, seemingly dumbstruck, to Ìkmen's right, gave a short gasp of surprise - or fear.

'I thought they had gone . . his more voluble brother exclaimed.

'Sergeants Çöktin and Tepe will take care of you for the time being’ Ìkmen said as he turned and smiled at the white-faced brothers.

'No!' Galip began, until Suleyman took hold of his arm and then wound it painfully up behind his back.

'Oh, I think yes,' he said with some force.

'I suggest you find a nice comfortable room to share with these gentlemen’ Ìkmen said to the two sergeants who had now, in the face of Galip's outburst, made it quite plain to all concerned that they were armed. 'If of course you can find anything remotely pleasant in this ghastly pile of crap’ he added with a smile.

Suleyman pushed the two brothers in front of him and handed them over to the two younger men.

'Sir’

And then Ìkmen turned to look at Latife Emin. Her face was as white as the thin linen of her blouse.

‘You know you really shouldn't be wearing such heavy shoes on a lovely parquet floor like this’ Ìkmen said taking her arm gently between his fingers. 'You could be doing it terrible damage. Why don't you take them off?'

Latife Emin moved the biography of Marilyn Monroe, which was her current entertainment when she was seated on the veranda, from her chair onto the table.

'Mmm’ Ìkmen said as he watched her lower herself into her seat. 'Like Marilyn do you?'

'Yes.'

'A woman unrecognised for her true talents.' Ìkmen picked the book up and turned it over. 'So you read English, do you, Miss Emin?'

'I manage’ she said as she motioned for the two men to sit down.

Ìkmen, as ever observant with regard to smoking requisites, viewed the numerous ashtrays with approval. 'I take it you don't mind if we smoke?' he said as he offered Suleyman a cigarette from his packet

'No, that's all right,' the woman replied, absently brushing a stray platinum hair out of her eyes.

The two men sat down and then lit up simultaneously. A few moments of silence, broken only by the barking of a distant dog, passed.

'So why did you murder Ruya Urfa?' Ìkmen asked when, in his estimation, enough time had elapsed.

‘I didn't' It was quite bald, a statement of fact.

Ìkmen smiled. ‘Oh? Did you not?'

'No.'

'So why did your sister shout at you to run after the car accident?' Suleyman asked, trying but without success to catch Latife Emin's elusive eyes.

'Because she thought that the petrol tank might be about to explode.' She looked up, questioning, as if seeking approval for this perfectly sensible reason.

'Yes, quite right' Ìkmen said, 'very wise. And your leg?' She frowned. 'What?'

'The leg our doctor assures us is shorter than the other. The left one, if my observation of your shoes—'

‘I was born with that defect' she said, 'but I don't usually limp. I compensate using the ball of my foot. Only since this accident.'

'Oh, come on now, Latife!' Ìkmen said, a deep chuckle rumbling at the back of his voice. 'I may be only a common Istanbul policeman but please do not insult my intelligence.' He leaned forward and studied Latife's shod feet hard. 'Even a fool can see that this one is built up to accommodate your infirmity,' he said, as indicating the large, if currently rather fashionable left-hand platform sole and wedge heel. 'A very professionally made shoe, Miss Emin, but please ...'

'I always wear my shoes! Tansu hates people to see me without them! I would never, ever—'

'Did I say that you have ever been without your shoes, Miss Emin?' Ìkmen asked, his eyes just briefly flicking across to Suleyman's face. 'I don't think so. And even if you have, quite what that would mean I really don't know. Do you?' He sank back slowly into the depths of his chair and concentrated on his cigarette for a few moments. Latife Emin, her eyes still downcast, studied the top of the small occasional table at her side with some intensity.

'Where were you on the night of Ruya Urfa's death?' Suleyman asked.

‘I was here in my bed.'

'While your sister was either here with you or out at a bar in the city, depending upon which story you decide to tell.'

Ìkmen leaned forward towards Latife. 'You see, madam, when you tell us lies, we do get awfully confused.'

She looked up, her eyes exhibiting the fear both policemen knew she must be experiencing. 'I was here,' she said. 'It was Tansu who was out, doing whatever.'

'And can anyone confirm your whereabouts?'

'Apart from, of course, either of your brothers,' Ìkmen said with a smile.

'No.' Latife cast her eyes down once again at the table.

Again the silence rolled in across the room like a long, thick carpet

'We could go on like this all night' Ìkmen said as he ground his cigarette out in the ashtray and then lit another, 'with us putting points to you and you refuting them, but.

'But?'

'But I think that if Inspector Suleyman here gives you the whole story, that just might move things along a bit' Then looking across at Suleyman, he said, 'What do you think, Inspector?'

'I think that is an excellent idea.' Suleyman turned to look at Latife Emin's profile and smiled. .'Ruya Urfa was poisoned with a piece of cyanide-laced almond halva. Cleverly, the sweet disguised the smell of the poison and, cleverly again, it was performed at a time when the whole of the city was engrossed in a game of football.'

'The only person definitely placed at the scene,' Ìkmen interjected, 'a middle-aged man with Down's syndrome, could not I'm sure an intelligent woman like yourself will understand, have possibly planned and executed such a complex crime.'

'Quite,' Suleyman agreed as he observed just the slightest greying of Latife's face. 'This man's prints were, however, found on the body of Mrs Urfa and he did remove the child, Merih Urfa, from the scene.' He leaned forward, again seeking to catch Latife Emin's eye. 'He said he did this because he feared the murderer, a woman answering your description, might return to harm the child at some time.'

'And so the Istanbul police take the word of a congenital idiot' It was said more as a statement of fact than as a question.

Ìkmen smiled. 'Although somewhat slow, Mr Temiz is no idiot, madam. He possesses two working eyes and he knows fear when he experiences it'

'And the description he gave of the woman he saw in the Urfas' apartment was good,' Suleyman said. 'Blonde hair, fur coat, of which we have some fibres.'

'You questioned my sister about this, my sister who was out all night.'

'Yes, we did,' Ìkmen said, 'which is why you know all about the significance of your unfortunate infirmity and its resultant awkward gait'

'What gait? What do you mean?'

'The gait Mr Temiz demonstrated in front of your sister.'

'Who,' Ìkmen said quickly, 'he thought was the perpetrator until he saw her walk towards him. But then you know that already, don't you?’

'But I don't have a gait, as you call it!' Latife cried, her face just a little flushed. 'I told you, if I go barefoot I always compensate using—'

'The ball of your foot Yes,' Ìkmen said, 'that I understand. And I expect that under normal circumstances you do just that. In the heat of the moment, however, for instance if you were disturbed—'

'But then if, as you are suggesting, I went to Ruya Urfa's home for some reason that night, why would I go without my shoes? As I've said, I always wear them.'

Suleyman smiled. 'Except,' he said, 'if it would be foolish to do so. And, given the size and heaviness of your shoes they would make rather more noise than I imagine you would want to generate on the marble floors of the Izzet Pasa apartments. The football notwithstanding, someone might have heard you. You couldn't take that risk.'

Latife Emin pushed herself back into her chair and observed the two men harshly. 'But I would look stupid and surely attract attention if I went somewhere without any shoes. And anyway, if my feet are so noisy, why have you not noticed it before?'

'If one is not looking for a certain thing or if something appears irrelevant one does not always notice it,' Ìkmen said gravely. 'And, if on the night of the murder you were wearing one of your sister's nice long coats— Well, as you've said yourself, you do routinely compensate for your infirmity and so you would look quite normal, wouldn't you?'

Briefly, as the silence of the night moved into the glass-bound room, Latife Emin looked sharply down at her feet before returning her gaze once again to the faces of her interrogators.

'Your doctor is spending a great deal of time with my sister,' Latife Emin said as she tried to make herself more comfortable in her chair.

'Maybe your sister has injuries of which she was previously unaware,' Ìkmen said calmly, 'or perhaps Dr Halman is administering a sedative.'

'In order to keep her quiet while you interrogate me?' Latife said with a smile. ‘I don't have to tell you, I suppose, that all the points you have put to me so far are speculative.'

'So you know law as well as English, do you, Miss Emin?' Ìkmen said. 'You're a clever lady. I wonder what other skills you possess.’

She turned away, looking out through the glass and into the garden.

'Having spoken to your gardener, Resat,’ Suleyman said, 'we are aware that a bottle of the same poison that was used to kill Mrs Urfa is on the premises.'

'Yes, in the greenhouse,' she replied smoothly. 'Do you want to see it?'

'Not yet'

'I believe you labelled it for him.'

'Yes, Re§at can neither read nor write.'

'But you like writing for him, don't you?’ Ìkmen said as he lit up another cigarette. 'You like to label things properly and show Resat that you can do that’

Latife Emin pushed one hand up into the thickness of her hair and then looked down at her watch. 'You do know,' she said, 'that if this business goes any further your so-called witness will be given a very hard time. Our lawyer can easily confound sane people, but with an idiot—'

'Oh, Mr Temiz is quite sane, I can assure you,' Ìkmen replied and then frowning he said, 'And besides, why should Mr Öz wish to confound Mr Temiz if, as I believe you are implying, he is not telling the truth? An "idiot", confounded or not, will become very quickly overawed and disorientated by the judicial process anyway. And if Mr Temiz has not been telling us the truth then it will come out at that stage.'