Divorce Turkish Style Read Free

chewing gum?
    â€œWell, it’s him,” said Fofo with a deep sigh. “They say he’s totally straight, but if you ask me, there’s a bit more to him than that.”
    This was nothing new. Fofo was always claiming that men were naturally bisexual from birth. His belief in this theory was quite unshakeable.
    â€œCould you find this guy?” I asked.
    â€œI can do more than that,” he said, brightly. “I don’t have his number, but I know who he hangs out with, and one of them is my friend Taner. How about that?”
    â€œYou’re a marvel! Call him immediately,” I said, suddenly feeling ready to pursue a murder case with the energy of a panther preparing to pounce on its prey. Never mind the shop and the endless loans!
    â€œOld habits die hard, I see,” laughed Fofo. “Isn’t that what you used to say?”
    â€œWhy break the habit of a lifetime?”
    â€œIndeed. But what about the shop?” said Fofo, suddenly sounding serious. “Can we get hold of Pelin? If this man works near here, we might be able to see him straight away.”
    â€œI’m calling Pelin now.”
    â€œAnd if you can’t reach her?”
    â€œDon’t worry, I’m not missing this for anything,” I said.
    â€œYeah, I like it!” said Fofo.
    I called Pelin and used various threats to get her to come to the shop immediately. Then, as I was going over the piece on Skyrat again, the telephone rang. It was Fofo.
    â€œSweetie,” he said. “We’re on! Be at Cactus Café in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late! I worked hard to persuade him to meet us.”
    Rather than attempt the hazardous walk, I jumped into a taxi and was the fırst to arrive at Cactus Café. By the time Fofo rushed in, all out of breath, I was settled at a table on the street, flipping through a magazine and sipping lemonade.
    â€œI told the guy that we’re private detectives,” whispered Fofo,pulling a chair up to mine. “I also hinted that his help wouldn’t go unrewarded.”
    â€œYou hinted what? Do you think I’ve got money to throw away?” I replied, probably too loudly, because a little girl, who’d been waiting for a chance to sell me a packet of tissues, glared and walked away. “You do realize I haven’t paid off my loans yet, don’t you? And there’s all that interest! I’ll go bankrupt at this rate.”
    â€œOh, Kati. This isn’t like you. Stop being so melodramatic.”
    â€œFine,” I said, and thought for a moment. “There’s a hole in my pocket, I’m skint, I’m running on empty, and I’ve left everything to the cat! Is that good enough for you?”
    â€œMoney never brings happiness,” grinned Fofo.
    We stopped arguing and looked up as the journalist approached us. I scrutinized his face to see how else Fofo might have described him other than saying he was brown-haired with horn-rimmed glasses. Actually, he could have been taken for a student. There was a penny-pinching air about him, and I hated him instantly.
    â€œFofo Bey?” he asked, checking that he was sitting down at the right table, and appearing to be seeing Fofo for the first time in his life.
    â€œWe’ve met before, at Pakize’s,” said Fofo, looking most impressed by all the designer gear the man was wearing.
    â€œI don’t set foot in Pakize’s unless I’m stoned, so I never remember faces from there,” he said, as if anyone who frequented Pakize’s was not even worth remembering.
    â€œBut we remember seeing you dance until dawn. In fact, I’d even say that your style is quite unforgettable,” I commented, making no effort to hide my contempt.
    Fofo and the journalist looked taken aback.
    â€œWhat do you mean by that?” asked the journalist, scratching his sideburns.
    â€œNothing,” I said, patting a strand of hair into place.
    â€œWe