The Winter Thief

51

Yakup brought a tray of food from the hospital kitchen, where Kamil had sent him to learn what he could from the staff about the events of the night before.

“The staff says that the orderly on duty last night disappeared before the murders were discovered,” he told Kamil in a low voice. “Two of the policemen who were here this morning weren’t from the local station. They arrived after the others, asked a lot of questions, and then left. One of the cooks has a brother who works at the Üsküdar station, so he knows everyone there. Also, there were reports of strangers asking for Huseyin Pasha at other infirmaries.”

“Any idea who these people are?” Kamil could think of no conceivable reason someone would want to kill his brother-in-law. Perhaps the attack on Feride was in retaliation for Kamil’s appealing directly to the sultan and upsetting Vahid’s plans. But why the hunt for Huseyin?

“People are whispering about the secret police, but no one knows. A farmer has been spreading stories about a djinn in the vineyards. The townspeople are afraid to leave their homes.”

While Yakup returned to eat with the staff in the kitchen, Kamil brought some of the dishes to Doctor Moreno and Vali. They both had regained consciousness, although the doctor was still very weak. Vali sat on a bench in his underwear, his head bandaged, a towel across his lap, sewing up a tear in his trousers. When Kamil entered, the driver jumped to his feet, clutching the towel, embarrassed.

Kamil addressed them formally, “I would like to thank both of you, and Boatman Nissim, may he be received into paradise, for protecting my sister and Elif Hanoum.”

“I thank you, pasha, for honoring me.” Vali bowed his head. “I did no more than my duty, and barely that.”

Doctor Moreno tried to rise on his elbow, but winced in pain and let himself down again. “You needn’t thank me at all, son. I was lying on the ground like a discarded broom.”

“The doctor is right,” Vali said. “It’s Elif Hanoum who deserves our gratitude. I’ve never seen a woman wield a blade like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Allah knows, I thought it was all over. Nissim was dead, the doctor and I helpless on the ground. I was reciting the fatiha and preparing myself for the end when I saw Elif Hanoum walk over, calm as glass, and pick up a sword one of the attackers had dropped. She used it fast and with no hesitation. Those men weren’t even able to raise their arms before she had already cut them off. She saved our lives.”

“How is she?” Doctor Moreno asked.

Kamil was still digesting the image of Elif slicing off men’s arms. “She’s not well. Physically she seems fine, but her mind has turned in on itself. We’re hoping it’s only temporary.”

Vali lowered his eyes. “I’m not surprised. I don’t understand how a woman could do what she did, but even less how she could bear it.”

“Women are hardier than men think,” Doctor Moreno said, but he sounded unsure.

“Well, you might be right there, Doctor. My wife, Allah protect her, is as tough as month-old bread.” Vali grinned.

Kamil called in an orderly to help the doctor eat, then stood in the waning light of the courtyard and thought about what to do. They’d have to stay the night. He hoped the patients would be well enough to move back to the city tomorrow. Omar hadn’t arrived, so he had only Yakup and his boatman, Bedri, for security. That would have to be enough; he trusted no one else. He himself would stand guard over Elif and Feride.