Chapter Sixty-four

AFTER DRIVING THE seven hundred miles back I arrived in Bodrum in the early afternoon, still trying to reconcile what I knew of Leyla Cumali’s life with her role in the imminent conflagration.

I had stopped twice on the way for gas and coffee and, each time, I had checked my phone and laptop, hoping for news from Battleboi. But there was nothing, and the only email was two spam messages which had been filtered and gone straight to the junk folder. I was getting increasingly frustrated and worried – maybe the Samurai hacker wasn’t going to be any better than the CIA – so when I saw the manager hurrying across the foyer towards me, I figured another disaster must have come down the pike.

It turned out I was so tired I had misread the cues: he was hurrying because he couldn’t believe I was back. I quickly realized that he had thought my story about visiting Bulgaria was bullshit and that, having killed SpongeBob, I was gone for good.

‘You are a person of the many great surprises, ’ he said, shaking my hand warmly. ‘Perhaps all of the men of the FBI are just as you? ’

‘Handsome and intelligent? ’ I said. ‘No, just me. ’

He clapped me on the back and spoke quietly. ‘There has been nobody of the visit for you. The newspaper say the man was of the robber type, probably for the drug using. ’

Relieved at that break, I thanked him and went to my room. Immediately, I checked my laptop for emails, but there was still nothing from Battleboi and I figured that, despite my fatigue, sleep would be impossible – every few minutes I would be looking to see if there was a message.

Instead, I pulled out the files on Dodge’s death that Cumali had given me and sat down at the desk. While I was waiting, I would see if I could find a trace of an American woman, one with a Midwestern accent.