“My wife’s hairpin!” Huseyin exclaimed. “Where did you get this?”
No wonder Rhea wouldn’t marry him, Vahid thought. She had already married this bastard. “Rhea was your wife?”
“Of course not,” Huseyin exclaimed. “Rhea was a young girl I was trying to help.” He dropped the pin on the table. “You harassed the poor girl. If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive.”
“That’s a lie,” Vahid snarled. “She died because of you. You brought her to that taverna.”
“How dare you insinuate anything. Rhea was like my daughter.”
Vahid snatched up the pin and held it in Huseyin’s face. “Is this what a father gives his daughter?”
“Her fiancé asked me to buy something special for her. What business is it of yours?”
“What fiancé?”
“I ask you again, what business is it of yours? You did your best to destroy her life. I won’t let you destroy her reputation after her death.” Huseyin hobbled to the door and held it open. “You’ve caused enough tragedy for us all. Leave now.”
Overcome by confusion and an inchoate rage, Vahid slammed the door shut behind him.
Turning to Kamil, Huseyin explained, “Rhea’s father asked me to get rid of Vahid’s unwanted attentions. They were making it difficult for the girl to get married. Vahid threatened her father.”
“He misunderstood your relationship, but that explains why he was trying to kill you and why his men attacked Feride.” Kamil frowned and pressed his fist against his mouth. The thought of Vahid harming Feride made him want to finish the job he had left undone. He would have gone after him if he hadn’t already laid a satisfyingly malicious snare for the Akrep commander.
“What a viper,” Huseyin exclaimed. “We have to do something about him. Imagine the damage he could do if he were promoted to head up the new secret service?”
“It’s been taken care of,” Kamil answered, his jaw tight. He had come to Huseyin directly from Vizier Köraslan’s office, but Vahid had arrived before he could tell Huseyin about the meeting. Better even than shooting off Vahid’s other hand was the thought of the man shivering in the special cell Omar had reserved for him at Bekiraga Prison, where Vahid would wait, perhaps for a long time, for his trial.
98
Vahid walked through the gardens of Yildiz Palace, unseeing, trying to understand what Huseyin Pasha had meant by “Rhea’s fiancé.” How could she have become engaged without his knowledge, and to whom? Turning down the drive leading to Akrep headquarters, he quickly halted. Dozens of gendarmes surrounded the building. Vahid ducked behind a shrub. Through the window he was outraged to see men moving about his office. He was certain they were there to arrest him. But on what charge? They had no evidence that he killed Sosi or anyone else. He would brazen it out, he decided, and almost moved from his hiding place. But what if the vizier had concocted evidence against him? He clutched his bandaged hand. Kamil Pasha had seen him with the girl in Karakaya. That must be it.
Seized by an unreasoning terror, no longer able to see where the threads connected, Vahid stumbled through the wooded palace grounds. If news of his arrest hadn’t reached the guards at the back gate, he might still escape. He had never told anyone where he lived, so he calculated that he had time before anyone noticed he was not at the palace and managed to track him down in the backstreet warren of Fatih.
Less than an hour later, Vahid sat at the table in his room at home and, fumbling slightly with his left hand, opened the velvet-covered box. He could hear his mother snoring down the hall. He lifted out the swatches of hair and the torn drawing of his father’s Greek mistress and his half brother, Iskender. Beneath it, in the folds of satin lining, his fingers found a pin with a narrow piece of satin attached. He pulled it out, licked his thumb, and rubbed at where it had begun to rust, although that just made it flake more. It was his award for graduating first in his high school class. He remembered that his father had received the news silently, nodding once, and gone back to reading his paper.
Later his father had gone to the coffeehouse, returning home long after he and his mother were in bed. Vahid, though, had been awake and saw his father pull the award from his shirt pocket and place it on the table. Vahid had felt a piercing joy at knowing that his father had shown the pin to the men at the coffeehouse.
“Baba,” Vahid whispered, gently replacing the award in the box. He added Rhea’s hairpin and the other objects and closed the lid. Then he went into the kitchen and shoved the box into the stove, waiting until the flames had bitten securely and were devouring it. He went back to his room, pulled a suitcase from the top of the wardrobe, and hastily packed.
99
The six oarsmen pulled in unison, sending the caïque skimming over the water north to Sariyer. Kamil and Huseyin sat in the bow deep in conversation, while Elif and Feride and her daughters nestled on a platform of carpets and cushions in the stern under a velvet awning that kept out the wind. Another boat followed with their luggage, but Elif had insisted on keeping her painting materials with her. Her boxes, canvases, and the easel filled most of the space. The two women sat close together, Elif’s head resting on Feride’s shoulder. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be asleep. Alev and Yasemin trailed ribbons in the water.
Feride’s eyes focused on Huseyin with a greed and desire that shocked her. She had always prided herself on keeping an even keel, while others rocked the boat around her. Now that she felt herself coming frighteningly alive, Huseyin seemed to recede from her in equal measure. At the summerhouse, she was determined, they would find each other again.
When the yali came into view, she roused Elif. They excitedly commented on its attributes, pointing out to each other the peaked gables, the balconies traced in lacelike fretwork, the tower, and the terrace right on the water.
“I wonder what plants are in the garden. It will be wonderful to draw them, like the gardens in France.” Elif’s eyes were crystal-clear ponds.
“Kamil will be able to tell us, no doubt,” Feride responded, feeling suddenly chilled and wrapping her cloak more tightly around her shoulders. The women, with the twins, planned to spend the spring and summer at the yali, Kamil visiting on weekends.
They disembarked, Kamil helping Huseyin climb from the boat. Yakup, his mother, Karanfil, and some other servants from both households had come ahead. The servants helped the women and children ashore and carried their belongings to the house.
Doctor Moreno was to come up the following week with the paperwork for the foundation Feride was setting up to support the Eyüp Mosque hospital and fund a new children’s wing. Kamil was bringing an Austrian nun, Sister Hildegard, who had some ideas for establishing a children’s hospital in Galata.
To Feride’s surprise, Huseyin had been interested in her new project and pledged a considerable amount to supplement her own portion. She had seen the pleasure in his eyes when she told him what she planned to do. There had also been pride. Then he had kissed her cheek and gone to his own bedroom that night, as on all the other nights since his return.
Their entry into the new summerhouse was festive and full of laughter. Elif, Feride, and the girls dashed into rooms and leaned from windows, giddy with delight. The men watched them, bemused, but Feride could tell that they too were bewitched by the light reflected from the strait through the tall windows and the charm of the place.
She saw Kamil join Elif on the balcony overlooking the garden and put his hand on the small of her back. Elif stepped closer until her body touched his, yet she remained distinct, straight-backed. Feride wondered what the relationship was between Kamil and Elif. She knew that they had been intimate with each another before they left for the east. The thought pleased her but also made her uneasy. Kamil had never been interested in marriage. Would he marry Elif now? And she was no longer sure whether Elif, so unpredictable and sometimes so frighteningly violent, would be the ideal partner for her brother. Elif was saying something to Kamil and pointing. Feride wondered what had happened between them in the east. It was as if their connection had snapped apart and been replaced by a different kind of understanding. They were always together, yet she sensed that their pleasure in each other was restrained by wariness.