FIVE

      I

      Iain walked Karin down to the hotel lobby and pointed her to a nearby shopping street, then asked at reception about overnighting a package to the UK. He’d missed his window, however, so he asked instead for directions to a computer repair store, got sent across the river along the hospital road. A grizzled shopkeeper was hauling down rusted shutters with a hooked stick, a cigarette almost sideways in his mouth, as though he’d walked into a wall. He eyed Iain gloomily, but invited him inside. The place was dimly lit, as seemed appropriate for the computer morgue it resembled, shelves crowded with innards and peripherals. It would be easiest to have the man try to recover the footage for him, but it was too risky, so he bought himself a new laptop instead, plus a screwdriver and various other tools, then returned to the hotel.

      Karin was still out shopping. He cleared space on the dressing table, opened up both laptops and transferred his old hard drive into the new machine. It wouldn’t boot. That, sadly, was the extent of his computer skills, so he called the office, got put through to Robyn. ‘I just heard,’ she said. ‘Poor Mustafa. I can’t believe it. He was so nice.’

      ‘I didn’t know you knew him,’ said Iain.

      ‘I put him on our system.’

      ‘Of course.’ Iain rubbed his neck wearily. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘My laptop got pretty badly banged up. I’m sure you can imagine. But there’s stuff on it I need.’

      ‘What kind of stuff?’

      ‘Footage.’

      A moment’s silence. ‘My God. You think you got it?’

      ‘It’s possible. I’d like to find out.’

      ‘Overnight it to me. I’ll start on it first thing.’

      ‘I missed last post,’ he told her. ‘And this needs doing fast. Can’t you talk me through it?’

      ‘You’d need a new laptop.’

      ‘Already got one. And I’ve tried switching drives.’

      ‘No luck?’

      ‘No luck.’

      ‘Then you’re going to need some more equipment. And it won’t be quick. Recovery could take a day, maybe longer.’

      ‘I’m only after a few video-files.’

      ‘It doesn’t work like that. What we’ll have to do is we’ll have to send in a special program to copy every bit of salvageable information on your old hard drive over to your new one. Think of it as like a photographer at a crime scene. You don’t know where the vital clue might be, right, so you photograph everything. But you won’t have to stand over it or anything. The program will run by itself.’

      ‘Okay. What will I need?’

      ‘Get Skype if you don’t already have it. And an external web-cam too, so that I can see what you’re up to. Plus a CD-writer and some blank CDs and a—’

      ‘Whoa!’ he said. ‘I need to write this down.’ He fetched a pad and pen. ‘Okay. Shoot.’

      ‘An external web-cam. A CD-writer. Some blank CDs. An external hard-disk drive with as much capacity as you can get, because you’re going to be sending everything to it. Oh, and does your room have a fan?’

      ‘No. Air conditioning. Why?’

      ‘You’ll need to keep the disks cool. They’ll seize up otherwise. Buy two computer fans to lay on top of them. And a couple of mouse-mats, to stop them vibrating.’

      ‘What about software?’

      ‘I’ll email it to you. Burn it onto a CD then boot up your new laptop with it. Call me back once you’re ready.’

      ‘It won’t be until morning. The shop’s closed.’

      ‘Try me on my mobile if I’m not in. And don’t go yet. Maria wants a word.’

      ‘Fine.’ He sagged and fought a yawn, the day’s adrenalin finally ebbing away. ‘What about?’

      ‘I think there’s some issue with Mustafa’s insurance.’

      ‘Oh, hell,’ he said, sitting up straight again. ‘Put her on.’

      II

      ‘Riots, Prime Minister?’ asked General Yilmaz.

      ‘You know, I imagine, that the public service unions have called for a Day of Action this Friday to protest against the new wage and pension cuts.’ It was why he’d gone to the Academy that afternoon: his son’s concert was on Friday night, and so there was a chance that duty would keep Baştürk from it. ‘Most of the other major unions have declared their support. And now various opposition parties have endorsed it too. There will be large marches and rallies here in Ankara and in Istanbul, and smaller ones all across the country. And they keep revising the estimates of attendees up. Because it’s not only about pensions and the economy any more. It’s about the bombs as well. People see us as ineffective. They see us as weak. So there’ll be plenty of trouble-makers out to take advantage: anarchists, Marxists, criminal gangs, everyone with a grudge or a fondness for mayhem.’

      ‘Then cancel the rallies.’

      ‘On what grounds? We’re supposed to be the party of the people, and the people are suffering. Deny them this opportunity to vent and it will only make things worse. Anyway, that’s not the issue right now. The issue is that, what with everything else they’re dealing with, the police are likely to be under extreme strain that day. Our friend the Minister insists that this proves how under-resourced he is, how he needs more officers. But it’s only one day, and we’re all having to make do with less.’

      Yilmaz looked unhappy as he saw where this was heading. ‘My men are soldiers,’ he said. ‘They aren’t trained to police marches. You know that.’

      ‘Yes. But they are trained to protect strategic sites, correct? And to provide personal protection to important figures? A great many police officers are currently employed on such duties. The Minister assures me that, if your troops were to take over various such tasks for the day, he could put enough additional officers on the streets to make the difference.’

      Yilmaz frowned. ‘Are you telling me you want this done, Prime Minister? Or are you telling me that you want me to draw up contingency plans in case it needs doing?’

      ‘The latter. I don’t like this any more than you do. But we need to be ready, in case.’

      ‘As you wish, Prime Minister. I’ll see to it myself.’

      ‘Thank you, General.’ Baştürk allowed himself a wry smile. ‘If only my cabinet colleagues were as helpful as you are.’

      ‘Are they not?’

      ‘They want my job.’ He let out a heavy sigh. His ministers were all potential