The Point of Honor by Morgan Burke

Author:Morgan Burke
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Thriller
Published: 2012-07-21T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

When it shall come into their sight from a distant place, they shall hear its vehement raging and roaring. The Holy Qur'an, 25:12

Okan Ataghan’s body was found in the park below Topkapi palace, leaning against a crumbling bastion from the fabled walls of Constantinople, a short distance from the railway tracks that encircled the tip of the peninsula. The body had lain in the brush for an estimated two days, disturbed only by stray dogs who had licked and pulled at the edges of the gaping cut across its neck. It took another twenty-four hours to get a positive identification, mostly due to a bureaucratic mix-up that sent the victim’s identification card, found in his pocket, to the traffic squad. The sharks in there spent half a day running checks on his driving record before sending it back in confusion. By the time Kayhan received a phone message from the morgue, the decay was pretty advanced, and he didn’t linger to study the corpse in detail, requesting an advance copy of the coroner’s report instead.

In spite of the bungling, he was pretty pleased with himself, and spent half an hour gloating to Amir about how interesting his week was turning out. Amir looked appropriately envious.

“I do not know how many burglaries I have investigated over the years,” complained the Sergeant, “but never has one turned into an art theft murder with a ghost thrown into the mix.”

“Me neither,” said Kayhan. “But this murder has the Inspector worried.”

“He thinks that the case should go to Homocide?”

“Yes. I have a liaison in Homocide who keeps bothering me, even though I worked on that squad once.”

“When were you ever in Homocide?”

“For two months, many years ago. Too depressing, so I transferred to the Commercial Crime division when an opportunity for promotion came up.”

“So why are you happy if you are going to lose the case?”

Kayhan shrugged. “I have not lost it yet. I even came up with a smuggling connection to try and convince the Inspector that I am his man.”

Amir raised his eyebrows. “You found a smuggling connection?”

“Of course not.”

“Ah, I see.”

“But there could be a smuggling connection,” Kayhan suggested, leaning back in his chair. “If we are dealing with art thieves, they will probably want to take their loot out of the country. This sword is a piece of Turkish national heritage, so that would be a very serious smuggling offence.”

“Which is clearly your jurisdiction.”

“Right.”

“This is what you told the Inspector?”

“Yes.”

“He believed you?”

“Enough to leave the case with me for another two days before he reassesses.”

Amir nodded, duly impressed. “So what now?”

“I have no clue,” shrugged Kayhan merrily. “I suppose I should drive out to Nazim’s house to deliver the news about Ataghan in person. Maybe I’ll get some idea from their reactions.”

He did this, and in his assessment, Umit Nazim was genuinely shocked. His cool, well-spoken demeanor cracked, and Kayhan felt both surprised and guilty to find himself pleased at the distinguished man’s sudden fumbling for words.

“I, this is awful,” said Nazim.

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