Divorce Turkish Style by Esmahan Aykol Page A

concerts. She’s mad about them, especially Sinan. Even I ’ve been to one of their concerts.”
    We sat in silence for a while. A multitude of thoughts were going through my mind. Given the situation, Cem might have killed his wife out of jealousy. He certainly hadn’t been taken off my list of suspects just because of Sevim’s claim that he wouldn’t hurt a fly.
    Or maybe Sinan pushed Sani down the stairs during a row.
    â€œYou just said that Sani fell while she was at home. Did she fall down the stairs?” I asked.
    â€œDoes her house have any stairs?” asked Sevim.
    How come this woman knew about Sani’s lover, yet didn’t even know if there were stairs in her house?
    â€œWho knows about Sinan apart from you?” I asked.
    â€œNo one.”
    â€œAylin Hanım is a close friend, isn’t she?”
    â€œYes, but she doesn’t know.”
    â€œHow do you know she doesn’t know?”
    â€œI just know. What do you think I am?”
    Not again! I obviously didn’t have a clue about my fellow humans. However, I still thought I’d much rather share a secret with my closest friend than with my secretary.
    â€œI wondered why she told you about her lover and not Aylin Hanım. That’s all.”
    â€œShe didn’t tell me. But when you work with someone from morning till night, you can’t help picking up certain things.”
    Sevim suddenly started crying, as if a button had been pressed, just like the previous day. Was it only nerves?
    â€œI didn’t mean to tell you that,” she sniffed.
    â€œYou did the right thing,” I said. “You’re clearly in no fit state to talk to the police, but you needed to tell someone.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought. But when you treat me as if I’m to blame—”
    â€œWhy should I blame you? We’re just talking.”
    I placed my hand over her stubby fingers as a gesture of sympathy and in the hope of getting her to say a little more.
    â€œShe may have told someone else other than Aylin Hanım,” I ventured.
    â€œSani Hanım said no one knew about Sinan except me, and Ididn’t tell anyone,” said Sevim, taking a tissue out of her handbag and wiping her nose.
    â€œNot even your sister?”
    â€œI swear I didn’t. Sani Hanım made me promise not to tell anyone. But my sister… Well, she found out I knew Sinan and—”
    â€œKnew him?” I interrupted.
    â€œThat’s how I found out that something was going on.”
    â€œHow did you find out?”
    â€œOne evening, I realized I’d left my mobile at work, and had to go all the way back to the office. When I opened the door, I saw… Well, I suppose they had to meet there because they had nowhere else to go. Sani Hanım was terrified that her husband would hear about it, so I promised not to tell anyone. I gave her my word, but now that she’s dead… And Sinan didn’t even come to the funeral. That’s shameful, isn’t it? He broke up her marriage and then didn’t come to her funeral. Men – they have their way with you, and then it’s over. We definitely live in a man’s world.”
    â€œTell me about Aylin Hanım.”
    I sensed that she would have preferred to carry on discussing relationships and how men use and discard women like dirty linen, as she probably did with her sister. However, she began talking about Aylin without any further encouragement.
    â€œWhat can I say? She’s a society type. She squeezes in visits to the association when she has time between shopping sprees. Her father used to be the Turkish ambassador to America, and it was at one of his receptions that Cem Bey was introduced to Sani Hanım. Aylin Hanım isn’t beautiful like Sani Hanım, but she takes good care of herself. She buys all her clothes abroad, which of course you can if you have the money.”
    â€œI