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“One thousand Turkish Lira,” said the taxi driver. “In advance.”
Penny Hale hesitated a moment, staring at the lean brown hand extended over the back of the seat. The man was filthy and his face reminded her of the pictures she had seen in books of the men who had tortured the Crusaders such a long time ago. His teeth were blackened, some broken off at the gums, and his left eye seemed to be blind. The young blonde shivered and reminded herself that the porter at the luxury hotel where she was staying had selected this man as reliable. Finally she reached into her purse, took out one crisp bill and paid him. With what seemed to her to be a derisive smile, he took the money and stuffed it into his torn shirt pocket. Then he started the engine and slowly pulled out of the parking lot.
Soon they were weaving in and out of the heavy late evening traffic of Istanbul. He certainly seemed to be a competent driver, she thought, as he skillfully threaded through the human obstacle course in the narrow streets. Suddenly they rose over the crest of a hill and she gasped at the sight. Below she could see almost all of the European side of the ancient city. The moon was nearly full, and combined with the lights of the city, it enabled her to get a panorama a hundred times more impressive than any travel poster she had ever seen.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.