Dance with Death by Barbara Nadel

Author:Barbara Nadel [Nadel, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headline
Published: 2010-05-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

* * *

Nalan Senar was a woman who, İkmen felt, liked to make an impression. On the one hand she was a pious, covered village woman, the very image of respectability, but on the other? Nalan Senar wore far too much jewellery on and around her heavy clothing to be the ‘poor peasant’ she purported to be. In addition, her house, as well as being home to a very large dog, was also the site of a huge amount of very sophisticated electronic equipment. Not that any of it was actually working when İkmen and Erten went to visit the woman that grey Saturday morning.

‘Kemalettin knows how to do this stuff,’ she said as she held a handful of remote controls up for the policemen to see. ‘He is the watcher of television.’

‘Where is Kemalettin, Mrs Senar?’ Erten asked as he first took off his shoes and then sat down in the seat the woman directed him to.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied with some resentment in her voice. ‘Why? Did you want to see him?’

‘No,’ the Nevşehir man said with a smile. ‘It is you we’ve come to see. I expect you’ve heard about Inspector İkmen from İstanbul and what he has arranged for Aysu Alkaya’s remains.’

‘Yes.’ She eyed İkmen narrowly before offering him a seat alongside that of his rural colleague. ‘Some tests,’ she said as she, too, sat down, pulling her headscarf tightly down round what looked like a lot of blond hair as she did so. ‘Turgut has told me a little about it. He says they show what a man really is.’

‘In a way, yes. They’re called DNA tests,’ İkmen expanded. ‘If tissue – skin, hair or nails – from whoever was with Aysu on the night that she died has survived from that time then our scientists will be able to match that to people known to have been involved with the girl.’

‘Ziya Kahraman killed her and he is dead,’ Nalan Senar snapped back unpleasantly.

‘How do you know that?’ İkmen asked. ‘You don’t, do you?’

‘I know how badly he treated her.’

‘And yet you prevented your son, Kemalettin, from marrying the girl in the knowledge that Ziya Kahraman would court her himself. Ziya in fact paid you to do just that.’

Nalan Senar shot İkmen a furious look. ‘Yes, and why not? Haldun Alkaya has nothing. I wanted better for my son.’

‘Who is now alone,’ İkmen said. ‘Your sons were together on the night that Aysu Alkaya disappeared, weren’t they, Mrs Senar?’

She looked across at Erten and said, ‘I told the police in Nevşehir where my sons and everyone else were twenty years ago.’

‘Yes, but . . .’

‘Kemalettin and Turgut were here with me and their father. My husband was dying then. He had cancer.’ She looked briefly across at a portrait of a fair-haired man that hung over the fireplace. Her husband. ‘The boys were always with me then, they are good sons.’ She turned back to look at İkmen again. ‘Ziya Kahraman killed her. But he is dead and so we will never know.

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