I ask what it’s about?’
‘I don’t really know yet,’ Justine admitted, giving her a wry smile. ‘I need to see the city, poke around, learn about the people, the life, and about Istanbul’s history, politics and religions. I do know that the latter fascinate me. I’ve done a bit of research, Iffet, and I think it’s amazing that Muslims, Jews and Christians have lived peacefully side by side in Istanbul for many centuries. What a feat that is. Unbelievable.’
‘It is, and I will be pleased to help you with your research, Justine. I am at your disposal, as is my entire office.’
‘Thank you.’
The lobby of the Çiragan Palace Hotel Kempinski was spacious and airy, with a high ceiling, handsome furnishings and enormous elegance in the grand manner.
Everyone from the doormen and bellboys to the assistant manager and the young public relations woman greeted them with courtesy and friendliness, and Justine realized that they knew Iffet well. That was the reason she was getting the royal treatment.
Within seconds of their arrival in the lobby, she and Iffet were whisked up in the lift by the public relations woman and the assistant manager. Alighting on the fifth floor, they were guided down the corridor to her room. When they were ushered inside, Justine saw at once that it faced the Bosphorus and had a magnificent view. It was large and comfortable, with a seating area in front of French doors, which opened onto a terrace furnished with chairs and a table.
‘This is great, thank you so much,’ she exclaimed to the hotel staff who had accompanied them, as she glanced around, taking everything in. Once they had explained everything, they departed, reminding her they were at her service if she needed anything.
When they were alone, Iffet said, ‘I’m happy you like the room, Justine. When I came over to inspect it this morning I was also pleased. I had requested one overlooking the Bosphorus, but they’re not always available.’
‘Thank you. And it suits my needs perfectly. I’d love to take you to lunch here, Iffet, to discuss a few things. Do you have time?’
‘I kept today open for you, and thank you. We should perhaps have lunch on the terrace, it’s a beautiful spot. Unless you prefer to be in air conditioning.’
‘No, outside. I’d just like to tidy up, if you’ll excuse me for a few minutes. But before I do that I need to do one other thing …find a telephone book.’ As she spoke, Justine glanced around the room, opened the wardrobe, then a cupboard and a chest of drawers, shaking her head, looking disappointed. ‘Not one in sight.’
‘I can get a number for you immediately.’ Iffet pulled out her mobile phone and asked, ‘What is the name of the person?’
‘Anita Lowe. And listen, I haven’t found her on any Google search, or anywhere else on the Web. But why not give the local book a shot?’
Iffet explained, ‘I shall call my office, that is the fastest way.’
Justine nodded, picked up her handbag and went into the bathroom. After washing her hands and face, she took out a hairbrush and attacked her mane of long blonde hair. Once it was sleek, no longer a tangled mess, she put on lipstick and sprayed herself with perfume.
Her mind was racing as she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, her thoughts focused on her grandmother and Anita. She knew she wouldn’t rest until she had found them. Her appearance didn’t matter; they took precedence in her head.
Straightening her black blazer, pulling out the collar of her white shirt, she decided she at least looked tidy, if nothing else. Grabbing her bag she went back to the bedroom, ready for action, prepared for what the rest of the day held.
Iffet glanced at her when she came in, and said in a regretful voice, ‘Anita Lowe is not listed in the Istanbul phonebook.’
‘Oh.’ Justine pursed her lips, then she said, ‘Could you try another name, please? Gabriele Hardwicke. That’s Hardwicke with an e at the end. Again, I tried to find her number without success.’
Once again Iffet dialled her office, passed on the name and waiting patiently. After a few seconds she shook her head. ‘No luck.’
‘I wonder how I’m going to find these two?’ Justine muttered, almost to herself, then forced a smile onto her face. ‘Thanks for trying, Iffet. Shall we go to lunch?’
‘I am ready.’
Going down in the lift, Iffet suddenly turned to Justine and asked, ‘Do you have an address for either of the two ladies? If so, you could write a note. I can have it delivered in an hour. There is a special service I use.’
‘I don’t have an address for either,’ Justine replied as they stepped out into the lobby. She thought: If I had an address I’d be hightailing it over there already. Swiftly she continued, ‘I really do need to find Anita. I’m fairly certain she lives in Istanbul, and—’ Justine cut herself off abruptly, and stood stock-still in the middle of the lobby, staring at Iffet.
Staring back, Iffet asked, ‘What is it? What is wrong?’
‘I’ve just thought of something. If a person owns a house in Istanbul, or an apartment, would the property have to be registered with a government agency? You know, for local taxes?’
‘It would, yes!’ Iffet exclaimed. ‘Ownership of property has to be registered at the deed and land office at the local municipality. Tapu ve Kadastro Dairesi, that’s the name of the land office. I must put one of my staff on this immediately. If you’ll excuse me, Justine, I must speak in Turkish to that person. It will be quicker.’
‘No problem.’
Taking a few steps away from Justine, Iffet again used her phone, and within a split second was talking rapidly to someone in her office.
‘It is being taken care of,’ she announced a moment later, a huge smile on her face, her brown eyes sparkling. She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s twelve thirty now. Lunchtime. So I might not receive the information until tomorrow.’
‘That’s all right, and thank you. Come on, let’s go and have lunch.’ Together Justine and Iffet walked across the lobby, through the lounge, the indoor café and out onto the terrace.
They were shown to a table in a corner, one that had a spectacular view of the hotel, its gardens and the swimming pool. Beyond was the Bosphorus flowing down into the Black Sea. As usual it was busy with varied traffic. Today there were sailing boats, private yachts, tourist boats and the ferries, plus a couple of cargo ships. In the distance, a huge cruise ship sat stationary on the far horizon, silhouetted against the bright blue sky like a behemoth.
‘What a fantastic sight this is!’ Justine said.
‘It is lovely. If you didn’t want to move you could stay here and keep very busy. There’s the spa, a hair salon, many shops, bars, restaurants, swimming and tennis.’
Justine smiled. ‘But I do want to move, I want to see this city, get to know it.’
‘I have made a list for you.’ Iffet immediately pulled a sheet of paper out of her bag. ‘A list of churches, such as the Haghia Sophia, the little Haghia Sophia, both built by your male namesake, Justinian. The Blue Mosque, the Topkapi Museum, and various palaces. I’ll
