Six Pack of Sleuths: Comedy Mysteries Page 36

  ‘Thank God.’ I stopped pacing. ‘And that will be the end of it.’ I breathed a huge sigh of relief. ‘We can’t tell your mum and dad what’s going on. I don’t want to give them a heart attack or something.’

  ‘I agree. Shall we tell the others?’

  I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to worry Ayshe, either. She doesn’t need the stress at six and a half months pregnant. We’ll just act normal.’

  Kalem chuckled. ‘You? Act normal? That’ll be the day.’

  I grinned back as someone knocked on the door.

  ‘Just a minute,’ I called out as we quickly shoved the money, building plans, and note back in the case and zipped it up.

  Wrapping a towel around me, I swung the door open. Ayshe, Atila, and Charlie spilled into the room. Well, Ayshe waddled.

  ‘Er…we have a slight situation,’ Charlie said.

  I groaned. What else could possibly happen?

  ‘Mum and Dad have got a virus, or it could be food poisoning,’ Ayshe said to me. ‘I bet it was that fish they insisted on eating last night. I told them it smelled funny.’

  ‘Ha-ha! Very funny,’ I said. ‘They can’t have food poisoning. Deniz is always eating out of date things, and he never gets ill. In fact, he must consume enough whisky for the entire Turkish Army, and he never even gets a hangover.’

  ‘It’s true,’ Atila said.

  My mouth flew open involuntarily.

  ‘Mmm. I had swordfish once and it tasted like wee.’ Charlie pulled a disgusted face.

  I couldn’t comment on that, never having tasted wee myself.

  ‘I was ill for days after.’ Charlie wrinkled up his nose.

  Ayshe carefully positioned herself on the edge of the bed. Charlie plonked himself down next to her and crossed his legs.

  A look of concern clouded Kalem’s face. ‘Will they be OK? Do we need to get them to the hospital or anything?’

  Ayshe shook her head. ‘No, they’ve seen the hotel doctor. He’s taken some samples from them and given them some medication. He’s pretty sure that it’s food poisoning, but just to be on the safe side, they have to stay in their room in case it’s something catching. Hopefully they should be fine in a few days.’

  ‘Well, I don’t suppose they can do much else with the projectile vomiting and squits,’ Charlie added, as if he were being helpful, but now I had a really horrible image in my mind that I didn’t particularly want. ‘We can pass notes under their door. But I don’t want either of you going to see them.’ He wagged a finger at Kalem and me. ‘We can’t have the bride and groom out of action on the wedding day.’

  ‘It’s probably just food poisoning,’ I said. ‘We’re not likely to catch that, are we?’

  ‘Well I’d better not see them in case I get something that affects the baby,’ Ayshe said ‘Neither can Atila. We can talk to them through the door.’

  ‘God, I hope they’ll be OK by Sunday. What are we going to do without them at the wedding if they’re still ill?’ I asked.

  ‘Who’s the man in that picture?’ Charlie noticed the picture of Ibrahim Kaya, pushed half under the bed that we’d inadvertently left out of the case.

  ‘What man?’ Ayshe leaned over to try and get a better look.

  Atila picked up the picture. ‘I recognize him. There was an article about him in the in-flight magazine. That’s Ibrahim Kaya – the mega-rich hotel owner. Why have you got a picture of him?’

  I looked at Kalem. Kalem looked at me. Damn. We would have to tell them now. I knew that if we made up some quick excuse they’d see through it in an instant.

  Charlie waved the picture around. ‘Well?’ He noticed the look passing between us. ‘Uh-oh. Helen, what have you got yourself into now?’

  Oh, that’s nice! Blame me! I mean, yes, I did get myself into a few incey wincey peculiar situations now and then, but come on, this wasn’t exactly my fault.

  ****

  We all sat in the bustling hotel restaurant, eating breakfast. As Ayshe was so skinny – even at six and a half months pregnant – I’d had a choice of wearing Kalem’s clothes or Charlie’s. Not much of a choice at all, really, since Kalem was so tall and Charlie’s clothes were loud with a capital L.

  So there we all were, with me dressed in Charlie’s cerise pink trousers that hung round my waist, showing off the top of my lacy Minx knickers, and a cropped top with the words I Love Men on the front. I’d consumed about five iced coffees and nothing else. I didn’t know what the standard amount of caffeine required after a shock this big was, but it was safe to say that my brain was reaching buzzing overload.

  ‘It will be fine,’ I said, with more confidence than I actually felt. ‘We’ll just give everything to the President’s Secretary, and that will be it. Over and done with. Finito. The End.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ayshe, Atila, Charlie, and Kalem agreed in unison.

  ‘So what do you want to do before you go there?’ Ayshe asked.

  I glanced down at my clothes. ‘Well, I suppose I need to go shopping first. I haven’t got any clothes or shoes or toiletries. I need to get a few things to tide me over until I get my suitcase back.’

  Charlie clasped his hands together. ‘Oh, goody. I’ll come too.’

  ‘I think I’ll stay at the hotel in case Mum or Dad needs me,’ Ayshe said.

  ‘I’ll stay with you.’ Atila draped an arm around Ayshe’s shoulder.

  ****

  We walked the short distance into Kyrenia town with people staring at my rather unique attire. One woman actually had the gall to stop and point at me, agog. I desperately needed something to distract me, so I’d started trying to count the cosmopolitan and designer shops. So far, I was up to a big fat zero. The main high street was tiny with even tinier shops. I was used to popping up to Oxford Street or a huge shopping mall. This was like the opposite of a busy London shopping street times a squillion. Could I actually live here without shops? Could I be a fully functioning woman? Would I get bored?

  Oh, stop it, Helen. You’re being ridiculous. And materialistic. Of course you can live without shops. It’s not like it’s a medical necessity or anything. Maybe they are here, but you just haven’t found them yet. Anyway, you’ve got Kalem. And your new life will be an exciting adventure. And he wants this new job so badly. You can’t just let him down and say you want to leave. Can you?

  We scoured the few miniscule boutiques. I bought some black flip-flops, a turquoise bikini, a couple of plain summer dresses, and some underwear – not quite as sexy as the vast array of new honeymoon ones I’d packed, but they were quite pretty. Charlie bought a pink kilt.

  Since we were in town, I decided to window shop in a couple of wedding dress shops. I had to try and be practical, and it was good to be prepared, wasn’t it? What if I didn’t get my dress back? It was unbearable and unthinkable, and I’d be doomed to bad luck if I couldn’t get married with Nan’s lucky charm. But I had a horrible, niggling feeling in the back of my mind that Ferret Face wouldn’t be giving my suitcase back any time soon.

  The first wedding shop we went in was home to a vast array of flouncy meringue dresses, which was great if you liked that sort of thing. I wanted something more sleek and sexy. They were big puffy things that would make me look like I was wearing a giant French Fancy cake. It was the same in the next. And the next. And the next. Uh-oh.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Kalem wrapped his arms around me. ‘You’ll definitely get your suitcase back. Probably today. And even if you don’t, we’ve still got time to find another wedding dress.’

  I scowled at the nearby French Fancy shop and nestled into him, having a hard time trying to stop the tears pricking behind my eyelids.

  ‘Group hug.’ Charlie launched himself around both of us. ‘This heat is making me thirsty. Let’s get a drink.’

  We wandered down through some old cobbled streets and ended up above a horseshoe shaped harbour, lined with a mixture of historic buildings and chic pavement cafes and restaurants. People ambled along, tourists
and Cypriots alike, as if they had no place in particular to go, and were in no rush to get there anyway.

  ‘This is fantastic!’ I lifted up my sunglasses to get a better look, taking in an ancient castle to the right and the flotillas, fishing boats, and luxury yachts in front, bobbing on the surface of the deep blue sea.

  Kalem pointed at the castle. ‘That’s Kyrenia Castle, another of the Crusader Castles in Cyprus. I’ll take you around there when we have more time.’

  I peered at it. ‘It looks very gothic.’

  ‘Inside they’ve got a Shipwreck Museum with the oldest shipwreck in the world in it,’ Kalem said.

  ‘What, the oldest shipwreck in a museum, or the oldest shipwreck in the sea?’ I asked, fascinated.

  Kalem smiled. ‘It’s one of the most remarkable marine finds in the world. It was a cargo ship, probably coming from one of the Greek islands, laden with large amphoras of wine. They discovered around four hundred amphoras still inside it.’

  ‘Amazing. What’s an amphora?’ I asked.

  ‘They are a type of ceramic vase with two handles that were used in ancient times to store liquids,’ Kalem said.

  ‘Was there still any wine left inside?’ Charlie asked. ‘Probably a bit off by now, though.’

  Well, this was certainly cosmopolitan. A perfect blend of old and new. The historic hulk of a castle framed the surrounding trendy bars and renovated harbour-side buildings. With the backdrop of mountains and the calm sea in front, it was, in fact, the prettiest harbour I’d ever seen.

  We lounged in some comfy chairs in one of the cafes, sipping iced coffee, as I surveyed my surroundings.

  Apart from being quaint, another thing I noticed was the lack of commercial worldwide franchises. No McDonalds or Burger Kings here. No Debenhams or John Lewis. And it was weird, but no one was rushing about. In the UK, everyone was always in a rush. Rush to work, rush home from work, rush to the gym, rush to the supermarket. Everyone worked so hard to pay the bills that life became one long stressful race to get things done. But here, it was like time had stopped. Tourists people-watched and chatted with waiters; old Cypriot men drank Turkish coffee and played backgammon, arguing over the finer points of the game or politics, as if they didn’t have a care in the world. The place had a whole vibe of relaxation about it that felt strangely hypnotizing.

  I quickly added that to my list of things to like.

  Chapter 5

  Heat invaded every pore as we arrived at the President’s Office in the capital, Nicosia.

  My heart danced to an irregular beat in my chest. I wiped my moist hands on my new dress.

  Everything will be OK. Everything will be OK, I repeated. That was going to be my new mantra of the day. And I had to believe it, because otherwise…well, otherwise the possibilities were just too scary.

  At the entrance to the white Seventies style building, there were security checks. We showed our passports and were asked to put the suitcase through an X-ray machine. Since we’d replaced the carbon sheet of paper over the money, I expected that they wouldn’t be able to detect anything, other than some very unsexy swimwear.

  Even so, I still held my breath as we both watched, fascinated, when they didn’t bat an eyelid at the X-ray image. After that, we were escorted upstairs to a large office.

  As offices go, it was pretty functional with the usual officey type of equipment. A large, official picture of the President hung on one wall, like an eerie presence, surveying his kingdom. I wondered briefly if some surveillance security officers were hiding behind it, staring out at us, like one of the two-way mirrors they have at police stations. Maybe it was a two-way President. Freaky.

  A smartly dressed woman in her early thirties sat behind the desk directly in front of us, filing her nails. She didn’t bother to look up when we entered.

  Miss Nail File’s mobile phone rang as we approached the desk. With a quick flick of her hand, she picked up the phone, nestling it in the crook of her neck, and carried on filing in the manner of someone who’s performed this task a million times before.

  We stood there waiting: me, hopping from one foot to the other, and Kalem, looking equally nervous, unsure what the usual etiquette was. I mean, it wasn’t like I popped into a president’s office every day. Did you bow? Courtesy? Do some kind of ritualistic hand shake

  Even though the air conditioning streamed out full blast, sweat pricked the hairline at the base of my neck.

  She gabbled down the phone in Turkish.

  I coughed loudly, trying to catch her attention.

  Kalem glared at me.

  Miss Nail File gave me an impatient look and held her finger up for silence. Then she went back to her phone call and started giggling girlishly.

  Oh, for God’s sake. Stop bloody arranging a night out with your boyfriend and let’s get down to business so I can get on with my wedding!

  I tapped my foot as we waited for her to finish. I thought about grabbing her phone, throwing it on the floor and jumping up and down on it, but I didn’t think that would go down too well. It might have made me feel slightly better, though.

  Finally, she put the phone and nail file down. ‘Yes?’ she asked in a bored voice.

  Before she could be distracted by anymore telephonic interruptions, I blurted out, ‘We’re here to see–’

  She cut me off. ‘Sorry, the President is very busy at the moment. Running the country and things like that,’ she said in a tone that implied we were complete idiots. ‘You need to make an appointment with his Secretary.

  ‘We already did.’ My voice jumped a couple of octaves in panic.

  She gave me a disbelieving look.

  Kalem gave her one of his best heart-stopping smiles. ‘Can you check the appointment book, please? I only made it this morning.’

  The smile didn’t seem to work on her, though. She made a big show of pulling out an appointment book from her desk draw and flicking through it with a pointy red talon at a pace that even a snail would have been proud of.

  She tapped the book. ‘No, sorry. There isn’t any appointment listed.’

  ‘But I only made it this morning,’ Kalem insisted.

  Oh, God. Oh, Goddy God. We had to see him. I felt like screaming at her. Instead, I ran a shaky hand through my hair.

  She gave us a tight smile. ‘Well, that’s the problem, you see. I’m just filling in for a colleague who’s off sick today, so it’s a bit disorganized at the moment.’

  Disorganized? How about you stop filing your nails and get organized.

  ‘I can make another appointment for you. How about…’ Pointy talon out again, she flicked a few pages in the diary. Pause. More flicking. ‘The twenty-fifth of November?’

  ‘But today’s the first of June!’ I wailed. ‘We need to see him urgently. It’s a matter of life and death!’

  She tilted her head slightly. ‘Life and death?’

  Quick! I had her attention now. I went for the kill before she slid back into bored, zombie nail-filing mode.

  ‘Yes, life and death. We have to see him or the President immediately. Otherwise I’ll…I’ll,’ well, I didn’t know what I’d do, but I was sure I’d so something. Think! Think! ‘I’ll…I’ll run around the building naked!’ I said with an angry gleam in my eye. ‘That will get his attention, surely. And if not, I’m sure the press would love it.’

  She looked me up and down. I didn’t know which she was more worried about, the threat of the press turning up and catching her filing, or the sight of me naked, but it seemed to have the desired effect anyway.

  She picked up the phone on her desk and whispered into it.

  ‘Have a seat.’ She pointed at a dark green leather sofa, situated opposite the two-way President.

  Great. Now the secret security police would have a chance to study us in all our full frontal glory.

  I sat down and smiled at the President. Nothing happened. No one came rushing out from behind it. I gave him a small wave. He didn’t wave back.


  Kalem pulled my hand down and shot me a what-the-hell-are-you-doing? look.

  I was just reaching the point of nervous, bubbly bowels when a door flew open behind Miss Nail File and a man walked in. He locked eyes with Kalem. Kalem locked eyes with him. And I almost threw up on the spot.

  The man who now stood in front of us, decked out in an Armani suite and smelling of expensive aftershave, was Erol Hussein, someone who Kalem and I had gone to school with in the UK. Someone who hated Kalem’s guts with a vengeance.

  Uh-oh. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.

  ‘Well, well, well. Kalem Mustafa. What brings you here? To the President’s office, of all places?’ Erol inclined his head and raised a slight, amused smile. Then he turned to me. Same smile, same arrogant tone. ‘Helen Grey, isn’t it? I must say that you’ve changed a lot from the chubby, freckly tomboy at school.’

  Well, I hoped he’d changed a lot too. He was the school bully. Someone who’d do anything to get what he wanted. He was manipulative, cold, and determined. He had hooded dark eyes that were creepy in an axe murderer kind of way, and slicked-back black hair that was creepy in a Dracula kind of way.

  I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d heard what happened to him after he’d left school. There was some kind of rumour…what was it? No, my brain wouldn’t work. I was too shocked. I was going into shock overload. Oh, wait a minute…something about him being the owner of a successful security business in the UK. Yes, it was coming back to me now. He’d had a business partner, but the contract they drew up between them in the early days was a bit vague. Then Erol sold it from under his partner’s nose and didn’t split the money. As Erol was Turkish Cypriot, he’d then disappeared to North Cyprus before any official enquiries could take place. And now he was here. In the President’s Office. And I was definitely going to faint. A whooshing noise pounded in my ears. Things started swimming in and out of focus.

  Erol folded his arms, waiting for an answer.

  I steadied myself on the edge of Miss Nail File’s desk, blinking to clear my eyesight.