Their hotel in the Sultanahmet district was the Golden Horn, an elegantly renovated nineteenth-century building. The place must have been a regular stopover for Aldo because they gave him the Ataturk Suite on the fourth floor, and Harry knew they weren’t paying top dollar. One flight up was the roof-terrace restaurant, which afforded a panoramic view of the Bosporus and included a lavish buffet breakfast. Harry was impressed with the sumptuous surroundings. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it was more luxurious than most places he’d ever stayed.
The décor was traditional Turkish — overstuffed chairs and sofas, wood paneling, and ornate rugs and tapestries, with arrays of multicolored light fixtures dangling from molded ceilings.
Aldo had booked two nights, and it was comfortable to share the larg
