Istanbul Noir - Mustafa Ziyalan [60]
Just as these thoughts were running through my mind, he spoke up: “Those are the guys Müfit sent after me.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“That Müfit guy’s in the dope business. Sells hash and shit. Can’t you see, those guys would sell their own mothers. They’re just waiting for someone to give the go-ahead, just look at them.” He was talking nonstop, not even pausing to take a breath. There he goes again, thinking every dude who walks in here is his assassin. The idiot, like he’s seeing hash and heroin for the first time in his life. Now was the perfect time to play a few tricks, but …
“You know them from before?” I asked. “Nah,” he said.
“It’s just, it seems to me like they know you.”
“No way, this is the first time I’ve ever seen them,” he said. Then he paused. He’d taken the bait. “What makes you think they know me?”
“No, I mean, what do I know?” I said. It was on the tip of my tongue, I’d drop the sinker and walk away. At that moment, I really wanted him to feel the fear, and feel it good. I headed for my bunk.
“I asked you a question!” he barked.
“It’s just, I went to see the ward aa the other day,” I said.
“And?” He was drawing closer. I’d snagged him by the roof of his mouth, just like that. Otherwise, I’d have lost him.
“I heard those guys talking with him,” I said.
“So what the fuck were they talking about?”
The hook ripped through his palate, shaack.
“Don’t remember, swear to God. It’s been awhile, and you know me, I don’t remember shit,” I said.
He was at a loss for words.
“I think …” I began.
“You think?”
“One of them asked the ward aa if there was anyone else here besides our Sinan. Since he was saying ‘our Sinan,’ I figured they knew you,” I said.
“What fucking ‘our Sinan,’ you idiot?”
“I don’t know, I just figured they knew you from Istanbul or something.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this before? Like these guys have been here fucking forever—and you ‘forgot.’”
“I swear to God, just figured you knew them. And besides, that thug’s not on good terms with the ward aa anyway, you know?”
He seemed convinced of my sincerity. He’d literally swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker. He exhaled and said something. I couldn’t tell if he was just cursing or what, with his teeth pressed together like that. His jawbones, his temples were all fidgety. Thanks to me, he was now absolutely certain that the men after him numbered three, and that they were hot on his tail.
The three guys were completely fucked up by that point. It took less than half an hour before the big one had a cheek against the steamed-up window, his arms spread wide like a frozen image of Jesus, crucified on some invisible cross. Another one they found under his bunk. And the third one they found lying on the floor in the bathroom.
A few hours later everyone had calmed down, the gawkers had dispersed. The smell of ashes and moldy walls gradually replaced the scent of pot. I was in my bunk before the clock even struck 10. I lay down and took a deep breath. I thought about that look on his face that said, Now I’m fucked, as I told him the story. If that man gets a wink of sleep tonight, I thought, my name ain’t Ahmet.
The ward was completely shrouded in darkness before midnight. The sounds of sleeping men, of snoring, wheezing, teeth grinding, and the scent of polyester shirts reeking of sweat mingled in the air.
I woke up early the next day. I looked for Sinan, but he wasn’t in bed. I walked through the bunks, checked the bathrooms upstairs, but he was nowhere to be found. I went out into the courtyard. There he was, facing the ward door. Three men stood before him, with their backs to me. They’d cornered him. I couldn’t believe