She began to empty the trays of rings into a large leather bag.
‘It’s our land. The land of our forefathers. God has promised it to us. It lies waiting for us. The landscape is empty, great tracts of country untilled, mines almost unworked. There are a few Jewish farmers in the Galilee, along the coast on the Sharon plain and in the Valley of Jezreel. The Arabs live in the hills and the mountains. We wanted the Padishah to sell a portion to a people with no land. Is that too much to ask? We would accept even marshy regions in the Upper Galilee and near Hadera, zones which produce more malaria than crops. Hamid was offered 150 million English pounds in gold. Do you realise how much that is? He says he wants good roads and more schools and ports. He could have paid off his debts with sufficient left over to build ten ports, a hundred good roads, a thousand schools.’
She shot a resentful glance towards the Palace.
‘Hamid threw the offer back in our faces. He told us we must forget about establishing a state for the Jews. He said, ‘The Sons of Abraham can live anywhere in the Ottoman Empire except Palestine’. His exact words were ‘Even if you pay me the weight of the earth in gold, I would never agree’. ‘
‘Is that when you asked to see Saliha Naciye?’ Holmes responded.
Chiarezza nodded.
‘Yildiz is a land where yes can mean no and no can mean yes. I asked her if the Sultan’s reply was a yes or a no. She told me Hamid was adamant about Palestine. I asked, woman to woman, how can we get His Imperial Highness to sell us land? She replied it would be impossible while her husband remained ruler of the Ottoman Empire.’
‘Was that when she put a proposal to you?’ I asked sharply. ‘Help her replace the Sultan with her son Mehmed Abid in return for a deal?’
Chiarezza maintained a momentary silence. Then, ‘Once Saliha Naciye became Regent a provisional government would immediately grant a charter for Palestine.’
‘And your part in the conspiracy?’ I persisted.
‘First, to guarantee the offer of the 150 million pounds in British gold still stood.’
‘And then?’ Holmes queried.
‘Radium paint.’
‘And the reliquary ring?’ I asked.
She turned to me. It was clear she had seen the Turkish newspaper revealing our identities.
‘Dr. Watson, the request for the ring lay in the arrangement of the posy. I delivered it to Saliha Naciye. It was returned to me with a hole drilled into the box.’
‘The box contained a substance?’ I asked.
Again she was silent.
‘You took the ring to the Chief Armourer’s wife?’ I prompted.
‘Yes. I told her the powder would enable her husband to give her a son.’
She reached for a tray of red apes, black cats, and parti-coloured cockatoos, amusing mascots for sale to the owners of the touring cars beginning to invade Stamboul’s labyrinthine streets.
‘Gentlemen, I can give you a good price on these,’ she jested as she packed them away. ‘There won’t be too many landaulets where I’m going.’
We returned to our carriage. I took a last look back. Half-way down the alley-way I could see Chiarezza moving quickly to dismantle the rails of second-hand clothing.
I turned to Holmes, asking, ‘Why didn’t you reveal the fact the sword Saliha Naciye stole was a forgery? Or that you told the Sultan his wife was trying to protect him by taking the sword? Then Chiarezza wouldn’t have to...’
‘Chiarezza has a better chance of surviving if she wends her way to Palestine,’ Holmes returned. ‘I don’t suppose for a second the Sultan swallowed my concoction. I invented a plausible story for sparing his wife’s life but would that sinister eunuch at his side believe Saliha Naciye acted alone? Even if Abd-ul-Hamid forgives her, he’ll send out his spies to search for collaborators. Who supplied the radium paint? The trail will lead directly to the bazaar. It could become an excuse for a night of the long knives against the Hebrews. Chiarezza would suffer the dreadful ministrations of the Spider.’
The collection of hexagonal bird-cages and the Wardian boxes labelled and filled with plants stood at the ready just inside a Palace gate, awaiting transport to our ship. Holmes asked me to say goodbye to our host on both our parts and set off for Seraglio Point, the brilliants of the Turkish Order of the Medjidie First Class pinned to his breast.
I was taken to a small kiosk. Abd-ul-Hamid greeted me at the door. He was alone except for a pair of identical Angora cats asleep on a costly sable fur. A servant brought sweet tea in tulip-shaped glasses on dainty saucers enamelled in gold and lapis lazuli. A basket piled with plums and apricots sat on a table in the middle of the room, next to summer flowers in tall glasses of water - lavender, pink and white asters and red valerian.
‘My dear friend Ferdinand, the Knyaz of Bulgaria, sends me gifts of flowers and fruits three times a week, all the way from Sofia by special carriage on the Orient Express,’ the Sultan explained.
Once again I noted the surprisingly deep voice, emanating from so fragile a body.
The Ottoman Sultan added with mild contempt, ‘Even in his own country he’s known as ‘Foxy Ferdinand’. Here, every hubble-bubble café in Pera is infested with his djournals. I know because I’ve purchased most of the cafés for my own spies.’
With a scornful look he went on, ‘Foxy is a subtle and cunning man. He was here in ‘97, you know, to thank me, his Imperial Suzerain, for recognising him as hereditary prince of Bulgaria.’
He added, ‘I admire his talents. But what a flatterer. He calls me ‘un Potentate délicieux’. Ferdinand wants Constantinople, you know. He longs for his priests to sing High Mass in Sancta Sophia. His mother has told him his Bourbon blood will take him from a Saxe-Coburg and Gotha to a princeling in the Balkans to the throne of a Holy Roman Emperor. And he believes her. And why not? Her wealth has already catapulted him half-way there.’
He laughed.
‘But you must know all this from your time in Sofia, helping the Knyaz to recover the Codex Zographensis. What a yarn you produced from it, Dr. Watson - what a murder! Do the Bulgars really believe in vampires?’
The conversation switched. I was to take an important message to King Edward. It was too sensitive to put in writing.
‘Tell His Majesty that if I retain my throne for a few more years I shall do all in my power to keep my Empire out of the European war the Kaiser is bent on bringing about. However, if an attempt is made by elements of my Third Army to remove me, and they succeed, they will without doubt throw the Empire into the fray on the side of Berlin. If England is ranged against us I caution her to beware the Dardanelles. The Straits will soon be impervious to most forms of attack. My Minister for War has been hard at work. British bravery will not be enough.’
He waved out to sea. ‘Even against a hundred monsters like Dreadnought.’
It was clear his condition was no longer normal. Once more the black eyes shone with an unnatural brilliance. He beckoned me closer.
‘What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue. Dr. Watson, I appreciate the effort Mr. Holmes and you have made on my behalf but if your Foreign Secretary has any sense he’ll let the next lot of conspirators succeed! He would release me from my abominable burden. I dream of being unlocked from my chains. Thirty years is enough. I pray only to be left alone, unfettered by such heavy responsibilities. It’s certain the plotters will be back. I’ll tell them I do not need all my palaces.’
He waved a hand around him.