Читать книгу Deadline Istanbul (The Elizabeth Darcy Series) - Peggy Hanson - Страница 18

CHAPTER 14

I can see the first leaf falling

It’s all yellow and nice

It’s so very cold outside

Like the way I’m feeling inside.

Lyric to Turkish popular song

Leila Metin loved her work in Topkapı Palace and her identity as one of the respected curators, a specialist in Iznik tiles and ceramics. Nothing pleased her more than walking through the hallways and rooms of the old harem, where sons of the sultans were often held prisoner their whole lives, surrounded by spectacular blue-green or peach-colored tiles fired in Iznik, at the end of the Sea of Marmara. Tulips, carnations, scrolled Arabic letters…such beautiful tiles. Such a limited life for a prospective Sultan. For many of them, actually.

Every fall Leila worked on the dig in Iznik, ruining her perfect nails but enjoying the comradeship. Her other work with these tiles? No. She fluttered her fingers. She was an artist, pure and simple. Artists do not have to explain their work.

And they don’t have to explain all their relationships. Peter Franklin was gone. Not forgotten, but gone. No explanations needed on any score. Except Leila would have liked more explanations from Peter Franklin.