Read Online Baksheesh by Esmahan Aykol - Free Book Online

had vanished into thin air. I didn’t understand any of it, of course. What would I know about burning down a building to make a car park? Istanbul never used to be full of bandits like this. I come from Salihli, near Izmir. We came to Istanbul when I was a boy. That was sixty-odd years ago, so I know all about the old times. It was lovely in those days. You never went down Beyoğlu without wearing a suit and tie. Istanbul just isn’t the same any more.”
    â€œSo, did Osman change after he took over the café?”
    â€œHe got himself a car within two or three years, so he was already hungry for something more. He’d say, ‘I’m working on a deal’, but I never knew what kind of deal. He was barely scraping by. A smart boy but…” he said, stopping suddenly.
    â€œDear me,” he said, clapping his hand against his forehead, “he’s passed away, poor lad. I still can’t take it in. I feel as though I’m talking behind his back like this. But I don’t mean any harm, I’m just telling you how it was, aren’t I, my dear?”
    â€œOf course,” I said. “Moreover, what you’ve said will be very useful. Have you told the police all this?”
    â€œNo, my dear. They didn’t ask. Do you think what I’ve said might be useful?”
    â€œDefinitely.”
    â€œTell me, how did the quarrel happen? Did Osman come to your shop?”
    I nodded and said, “I think he was going to threaten me.”
    â€œWell, he’s paid the price. He wasn’t a bad person, Osman, but he could never accept defeat. That was just his nature.”
    I nodded again.
    â€œWhat sort of business was Osman caught up in?”
    â€œTo be honest, I don’t really know, so whatever I say might be a lie. They used to say all sorts of things at one time. Some people
said he was… I don’t like to say it, but… into pimping, others said he was selling drugs at the café. They also said he ran gambling sessions in the basement there. Later, I heard he had a car park in the backstreets of Beyoğlu, towards Tarlabaşı. I don’t know how much of that’s true, of course. Oh, and they even said he was taking protection money from shop owners to send to some terrorist organisation. But don’t believe everything I say, because I saw none of this with my own eyes. Whatever he did, he made money somehow. These days, nobody asks how you make your money. The only important thing is whether you have it or not. He had ‘rich peasant’ written all over him.”
    â€œWho? Osman?”
    â€œOf course. He had a BMW. It was too big to go down this narrow street so he’d get out at the corner. When I asked my youngest son how much it would have cost, he just said, ‘Megabucks, Dad,’ which is the message that BMW pushed out. Who would think it? How things have changed.”
    â€œHow did you hear that Osman had been to my shop?”
    He waved his hand. “Oh, my dear, everyone knew that he came back with his ear covered in blood. News spreads fast around here. I’m sure you attracted the attention of all the locals by refusing to give in to him. We heard about it immediately. Good for you, is what I say. You have to put people in their place in situations like that. It’s a jungle out there, isn’t it, my dear?”
    â€œIs it?” I said. “Is it a jungle?”
    â€œYour shop is opposite Veysel, the carpenter, isn’t it? Veysel Bey is old Kuledibi stock, from the good old days. What times we had together! You wouldn’t believe it now, but lots of money passed through these hands. ‘Easy come, easy go’ is what we used to say about all the money we got through at the poker table. Some nights, I’d go home having paid out enough money at that table to build ten or fifteen apartment blocks. But I swear I haven’t so much as touched a playing card for over