‘Yes. Yes, of course,’ I say without thinking. ‘Whatever you want. Um, Mehmet. Have you seen your father and Cassandra around? I need to speak to them quite urgently. Are they down in their room?’ I hold out my palm to show him the signet rings.
‘No. They’re?—’
Emir groans loudly in his brother’s arms, causing them to exchange a lengthy and secretive look. ‘No, sorry. I have not,’ says Mehmet. He winks at Emir.
‘Well, clearly you have.’ I stuff the rings in my pocket and place my hands on my hips. I’m not standing for this masculineall boys togetherbullshit. ‘All of this money and jewellery must be returned as a matter of urgency. Tell me where they are. Otherwise, I’ll just go find them.’We’re on a boat. How hard can it be?
‘You’re funny. I like strong women. A lot.’
‘I’m very pleased for you. Where are they?’
‘I like this game.’
‘Not a game. Have you seen them or not?’
‘You are feisty. Turkish women are also feisty.’
‘Mehmet. There are only eighteen bedrooms and three decks. My chances of finding them within fifteen minutes are very high. Seeing as we’re on one of the decks and you’ve confirmed they’re not in their room, the odds of finding them sooner increase exponentially. Whereas your chances of me agreeing to have a drink with you are plummeting with each second you keep me waiting.’
He looks rattled at the logic. ‘They’re over there.’ I follow his pointed finger to the end of the deck, where Emir’s parents are lying on the double mattresses, sunbathing with their eyes closed, a table laden with half-empty cocktail glasses beside them. Gentle snoring confirms that they are fast asleep.
I hang my head to the side, defeated. ‘Okay. I’ll catch them later. I’ll leave Emir with you while I quickly get changed.’
‘Sure. No problem. Meet you on the top deck in…?’
‘Twenty minutes? I’ll bring the chessboard.’
I hurry back to my room and put the rings in the suitcase. I survey the stash of jewellery and money. Emir is like no other child I’ve ever met.
At the thought of missing his birthday, my heart sinks. I vow to make sure that everything will be ready for his party before I leave. That reminds me, I need to speak to Emir’s mother about the logistics. That might give me a softer landing when having to reveal that their little pride and joy is indeed the wheeler-dealer kleptomaniac that they all fear he is. For now, I just need to keep acting as though nothing is wrong, keep a low profile and behave normally. I promised Jackson that I’d stay under the radar, and that’s exactly what I must do. Starting with returning all of the stolen jewellery and wads of cash (which could be laundered for all I know) and making sure that Garry doesn’t try to rip off Emir’s lovely mafia-esque family by overcharging everyone on this boat.
With the chessboard under my arm, I race up the two flights of stairs to see that lots of guests are gathered around the open bar area in eveningwear. A welcome breeze wafts across the deck, instantly cooling me down as I search for Emir. I pick my way through the crowd and notice Garry weaving in and out of the throng with a determined look on his face. He is clutching a clipboard and pen and has something under his armpit. I stop to see what he’s doing. He approaches a group of people and immediately grins broadly. I can just about hear him over the music blaring out. He’s asking if they need more drinks. He’s holding out a pen and pointing to the clipboard for someone to sign. I see one of the men literally sign it without reading or asking what it is before they go back to chatting and Garry moves on to the next group. He passes by the bar and signals to Astrid who is bartending to send drinks over to the group he’s just been to.
I follow him stealthily as he repeats the same actions over and over, until he reaches a table with Emir, Mehmet and his grandmother sitting playing cards. I watch Mehmet take the pen and, just like all the others, sign whatever is on the clipboard.
‘Hi,’ I say, causing Garry to jump a mile. ‘What’s this?’ I point to the clipboard. ‘Collecting signatures to save the dolphins?’ I joke. But Garry’s face drops instantly as he whips it behind his back.
‘Just in time. Where have you been? Can you get these lovely people a… what was it? A Virgin Mary, extra shot of tabasco, hold the celery, a dirty martini extra dry with a twist, no ice, and…’ He smiles at Emir. ‘A cloudy lemonade, ice, no lemon for the little gentleman.’ He turns back to face me, his eyes as deadly as a shark’s. ‘Chop chop.’
Mehmet reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wadge of notes, peels one off and hands it to Garry. Garry forces a smile, bows graciously and takes it, thanking him in Turkish before barging past me, muttering.
‘I’ll be right back with those drinks,’ I say brightly to them. I notice Emir has a dark expression on his face as he stares at Garry’s retreating back. ‘You okay?’ I ask.
He nods glumly but instantly perks up when I place the chessboard down on the table next to the cards.
‘Chess? Impressive. How do you feel about cards? Do you play?’ Mehmet asks, shuffling a deck of cards.
‘I love playing cards,’ I say.
Once I return from the bar, Emir has dealt me a hand of cards and explains the game we are playing. Numbers are my thing. There’s not a card game I can’t get my head around.
Except this bonkers Turkish one. It has me rattled all the way through. It makes no sense. I’m appalled at the chaos. The randomness. The consistent lack of rules. And after I’ve been beaten yet again, with Mehmet and Emir laughing at me, the grandmother explains, ‘You’re thinking too logically. Think out of the box, think laterally. Approach the game as though you want to lose.’
‘But none of that makes sense.’
‘That’s the whole point,’ she says, shrugging. ‘It’s taken me five years, and I still haven’t won a game.’
A few failed attempts later, and I have a breakthrough. ‘It’s not dissimilar to chaos theory,’ I explain to Mehmet. ‘Where random and unpredictable behaviour is governed by deterministic systems or, in this case, rules.’ His brow furrows in response. ‘I know what you’re thinking, it’s a paradox of two notions that are commonly regarded as incompatible, and yet… if you don’t overthink it, it somehow works!’
