Bir kadın/adam gelir

Girdi aklıma her gece, tanıdık bir melodi.

A familiar tune plays in my head every night

Chance, properly speaking, put him on that mission.

A teenage girl had been killed and her body dumped in a dumpster, a crime that shocked Istanbul with its brutality and absolute lack of suspects. The girl's identity was also a mystery, her fingerprints not being recognized by any Turkish databases, putting the cops and the prosecutor's office in a dead end, until the night he learned some details, told amidst a veiled flirtation and glasses of wine.

- She simply doesn't exist in Turkey. We collected fingerprints, hair, nails, dental records, DNA, sent them to all forensic centers and no response... - Neva was gesticulating and speaking in a slightly less restrained tone than was her habit, drawing a few glances to their table, obviously finding the content of the conversation strange. - No one knows her, no one has seen her... no recognition of her image on social media... It's like dealing with a ghost! - he half smiled and she melted, her stubborn heart insisting on beating faster for that man, so cold and distant.

- Or she wasn't Turkish. - he turned the pita on table, looking away from her. He was not ignorant of what was not said in words, but wide open in the eyes. To Ilgaz, Neva was a good friend and an excellent professional, but nothing more. And as a friend, he listened to her commenting on the prosecution's cases, remembering the time when he was police commissioner in Istanbul. His instincts were all still there, dormant, even if he currently acted only like a bureaucrat. And the lack of records on that girl across the country should have been the first indication that the dead girl was a foreigner, but it bothered Ilgaz that something so obvious to him was a problem for the investigators in the case.

It made him question police amateurism after he left.

- An illegal immigrant? - instantly sober, Neva slammed her hand down on table, a thousand thoughts pushing the wine aside and focusing on the case. - This should have been considered earlier, of course! But we still come back to the fact that no one knows of her in the vicinity where she was found, nor has she been seen anywhere before. How to look for someone that nobody knows about?

- You're asking the wrong questions, Neva. The girl was probably not killed near where she was dumped, and no one in that respectable neighborhood would give information about an illegal immigrant, even if they knew. The police won't find anything of her on the surface. - everyone was anxious to close that topic and bury the girl as a pauper, they just weren't doing it because Neva insisted on finding someone to claim the corpse. She was feelings within a corporation that shielded itself from them and that's why he gave his opinion, even though he knew that if Neva decided to conduct her investigation there, she would find little or no support within the police.

- And what do you suggest, Şeficım? - she touched his hand across the table and he set his jaw, tensing all over. Gently, Ilgaz took the hand that was touching him in both of his and squeezed lightly, then backed away. The new subtle rejection tinged Neva's brown eyes with sadness, and she dropped her shoulders with a sigh.

- Look for her in the rotten part of town, where illegal immigrants tend to stay. Brothels disguised as nightclubs, illegal gambling houses, tenements on the outskirts of Istanbul, websites for paid escorts or sexual lives... - she nodded, embarrassed by her sudden courage and smiled, mechanically.

- I'll... I'll take a look at your tip. - she grabbed her purse, calling it a night, and Ilgaz clicked his tongue, preventing her from reaching for wallet to pay her share.

- Don't embarrass me, I'm a gentleman. - the dubiousness of that warning made Neva stand up and say goodbye at lightning speed, before the tears spilled out in front of him.