Read Online The Kiss Murder by Mehmet Murat Somer - Free Book Online

fingernails. Her mother told everyone that it was so she wouldn’t bite them. At primary school . . .”

    Mrs. Fat Cheeks was lost in a reverie. Were she aware of the body just above our heads, I imagine she wouldn’t have chattered on in quite the same way. Of course, she had no idea that each passing hour made a similar fate more likely for the blind lady across the hall.

    We all leaped out of our seats at the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. Sevgi ran to the door; her father raced to the window. Apple Cheeks smiled apologetically, as if to say, Is this really the time for screams, as I sit here all cozy with my eccentric guests?
     
    There was a banging at the door. The family led the way as we all rushed to it.

    A largish female, still young enough to be plagued by pimples, stood there. Either her face had been blotched by futile skin-care remedies or . . .

    “Aynur, abla ! Aunt Hamiyet is dead! Shot! And right in the middle of the forehead!”

    Ah, so the red face was the result of having seen a corpse.

    “My uncle’s family sent us some dried mulberries. My mother sent me along to give some to Aunt Hamiyet. But they shot her! Right in the forehead!”

    There was no way of avoiding the police now. It was too late to beg leave and go. But that’s exactly what we did, shameless as it was.
     
    The man of the house was apparently a legal clerk, and suggested we not get mixed up in the affair. It was the best proposition I’d heard all day. They were pure-hearted enough not to suspect us in any way. I wanted to throw my arms around him, but his wife might have misunderstood.

    As the police sirens approached the apartment building, we got into the taxi Hüseyin had parked in front of a dark, abandoned building. As we drove off, we sifted through our options.
     
    Even if we were unable to find Sabiha Hanım, we had to get into Fevzi/Buse’s old bedroom. Attempting this while the police were in control of the building would be pushing our luck. So, we eliminated that possibility.

    Two elderly women murdered a floor apart in the same building could not be put down to coincidence. It was just not possible. If the killer mistook the lady upstairs for Sabiha Hanım, it would give us more time to find the letters and photographs. If Sabiha Hanım had fallen into their hands, that would change everything. Perhaps she had been abducted as she went upstairs to visit her neighbor. The neighbor had been killed and she had been kidnapped. If that was the case, there was nothing much we could do.
     
    “Where are we going?” asked Hüseyin.

    “Don’t forget about the Etap. You promised me dinner.”

    It was unbelievable that Gönül was able at a time like this to think of her stomach. When I get cross, I often address the girls by their official, male names.

    “Metin, it’s really no time—”

    “There’s no way you’re wriggling out of this. You promised. You high-society types always go back on your word. You’ve all got scorpions in your pockets.”

    As if things weren’t tense enough, I had to deal with this.

    “Fine,” I said. “My treat. The two of you go and eat. I’ve got work to do, but I’ll pay.”

    Hüseyin slammed on the brakes and turned around. “No way! It’s too close to our neighborhood.”

    “What do you mean? Are you trying to say you’re ashamed of Gönül?” I asked innocently. Hüseyin had no compunctions about hitting on me in public. There was no reason he couldn’t be seen out with Gönül. It just required a bit of courage.

    “I’m sick and tired of all of this,” he said. “Go anywhere you want. Eat whatever you want. I don’t care. Just leave me out of it. Got it?”

    “So . . . what’s got into you?” Gönül exclaimed, “What’s wrong with me then? No manners, ayol !”

    “All right . . . calm down,” I said. “Gönül, sweetie, we’ve got a critical situation on our hands, and not much time to sort things out. You do understand, don’t