The Winter Thief

17

Bendit’s gold shop was opposite the corner fountain in the Covered Bazaar. The great iron-studded gates to the bazaar hadn’t opened yet, but Vahid went through one of the many side doors used by the merchants. He found Bendit pulling his wares from a strongbox that had been locked up overnight in the Inner Bedestan, the guarded central area of the bazaar, and laying them out on velvet-spanned trays in his narrow shop. Vahid refused the dealer’s offer of a cushioned seat and tea. He laid the hairpin on the blue velvet tray. The merchant turned it over in his hand, then examined the stones under a loupe. “Do you want to sell it?” he asked. “It would fetch a good price.”

“No,” Vahid said. “I want to know who bought it.”

The gold merchant started to say something, then thought better of it. Vahid had been to see him before on such matters. The man had never bought anything, but like all the other storekeepers in the bazaar, Bendit believed that service brought friendship and loyalty. Eventually, if the man wanted to buy gold, he would do so from Bendit’s shop. So he smiled and said, “If you’re willing to leave it with me for a few days, sir, I’ll ask around.”

“I’ll wait.” Vahid sat.

Ten minutes later, Bendit returned, looking pleased. “This was easy to trace. It was made by-”

Vahid interrupted him. “Who bought it?”

“Huseyin Pasha. He bought two.”