Adrift in Istanbul (Alex Kovacs thriller series Book 9) by Richard Wake

Author:Richard Wake [Wake, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Manor and State, LLC
Published: 2022-08-02T16:00:00+00:00

25

I had one of those nights — what was left of it — where I felt as if I hadn’t slept at all, but I must have. Because while I spent hours making sense of what I knew, or trying to make sense of it — turning over and refolding the pillow a dozen times if I did it once — I was in the middle of a dream about a French Resistance bombing in Paris when I woke up. It was a time when we blew up a bus full of German soldiers returning from a night of drinking at a club in Montmartre, and I could see and feel and hear the explosion like it was yesterday. The bus had just become engulfed in flames when the sun shining through a gap in the curtains woke me up. It was past 9 a.m., and the hangover was negligible.

“Quite a racket last night,” Bebi said. In the history of our conversations, this qualified as a heart-to-heart.

“Yeah, what was it?” I said.

“Some kind of explosion. I walked over right before I opened up to have a look. Apartment building up a few blocks on Istiklal.”

“Explosion?”

“I asked one of the fire fighters,” Bebi said. “He figures it was some kind of gas leak.”

“Anybody hurt?”

“Don’t know, but it’s a mess.”

With that, Bebi turned back to his sink full of dishes. I reminded myself to buy an afternoon paper to see if that was going to be the official line, a gas leak. It would work, as official lines went. In my experience, “tragic accident” always worked better than “mysterious assassination.”

Although, what had Ana just said?

The human heart craves mystery.

I walked by the explosion on the way to the office. It was a big mess but a much more orderly big mess than it had been right after. The bricks and stone and masonry had been swept into two piles, one on each side of the entrance way. A single policeman stood between the piles of rubble, watching as two workmen nailed up boards to cover what had been the front door of the building. People walking by all stopped and gawped, but then they moved on. It was something to tell the wife at dinner that night and not much more.

Miray had walked by on the way to the office, and we talked a bit about the mess. “Gas leak” is what she had heard, but she didn’t know if anyone had been hurt. I shrugged a lot and offered nothing as she talked. Then I picked up the diary from her desk, just to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything — and I hadn’t. It was blank all day.

Plenty of time to think, then. I closed the office door, took off my jacket, and lay down on the sofa. Ana. Fucking Ana. When I closed my eyes, I saw Gibbs and eye sitting on the bench and eating the tripe soup, and then I saw him fishing around in his pocket for his keys.

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