The Winter Thief

32

That morning, Kamil woke before dawn and rode directly to Omar’s house in Fatih. Omar’s wife, Mimoza, was already stoking the fire in the potbellied stove. She bade him sit, and returned after a moment with a glass of tea. At the door, her adopted son, Avi, slipped off his shoes and handed Mimoza two loaves of bread, still warm from the community oven.

“I saw you, but I couldn’t catch up with you.” He beamed at Kamil, then followed Mimoza to the kitchen.

A few moments later, Omar appeared, tucking in his shirt.

“Welcome, pasha, to our humble home.” He settled heavily beside Kamil on a cushion. Avi came in with the teapot. Omar waited until the boy had gone before he told Kamil in a low voice, “We found Abel. They had buried him already, but we dug him up.”

They sipped their tea in silence while Mimoza brought in a pan of poached eggs and spinach, settled it in the middle of the tray, and tilted a big spoon against it. She gave them a curious glance and disappeared again.

“Two fingers cut off,” Omar whispered, one eye on the corridor. “Burn marks on his yarak. Who would do something like that?”

“Akrep commander Vahid, no doubt,” Kamil responded, remembering Yorg Pasha’s warning. “He found Sosi through the nanny Bridget, and Sosi led him to her brother, Abel. Any sign of the girl?”

“The priest said she was abducted. On her engagement day, no less. She’ll be conspicuously dressed, which might make her easier to find. We talked to her fiancé, but he doesn’t know anything. He was under the impression that she lived a sheltered life at home. Their father was in the house when it happened, by the way. He’s blind, and now they say he has brain fever. We couldn’t get a coherent sentence out of him.”

“Yorg Pasha knows the man, Gabriel Arti, who carried out the robbery.” Kamil told him Arti’s suspicions about his driver, Abel, and about Vera Arti’s arrest.

“Yorg Pasha runs in dangerous circles,” Omar commented, “but that doesn’t surprise me. Now Abel setting off the explosion to draw attention to the Armenian cause, that surprises me. That’s like blowing off your behind to loosen up your bowels.” Omar let out a deep breath. “Well, they certainly got the palace’s attention.”

Mimoza coughed before she entered with the rest of their breakfast. They ate to Avi’s chatter and good-natured sparring between Omar and his wife. Kamil felt unaccountably lonely and wondered for the hundredth time where Feride and Elif were. No message had arrived.

When the dishes were cleared and the tray removed, Omar asked, “Do you think Gabriel took revenge on Abel for messing up his nice, neat robbery?”

Kamil remembered Yorg Pasha’s description of Gabriel. “I don’t think so. He has bigger problems. But I have a favor to ask of you.”