1921, December 7th, Wednesday.
The seventh of December arrived in Constantinople with an deceptive air of routine, the city going about its daily commerce under the watchful eyes of the Allied patrols. But within the halls of power at Yıldız Palace and in the tense chambers of the Joint Commission of Inquiry for the Port Authority, a silent, ferocious battle was being waged. Sultan Murad VII knew that unmasking the deeply entrenched shadows of corruption and sedition was as vital to his Empire's survival as any military victory. His envoy, Behram Rıza Bey, was now four days into his perilous journey towards Konya, a silent testament to Murad's gamble on a future where even the deepest enmities might be bridged.
The morning brought encouraging news from the domestic front, a small but significant counterpoint to the ongoing tensions. Grand Vizier Tevfik Pasha reported that the initial efforts of the Imperial Reconstruction Council were bearing fruit. "Your Majesty," he said, his lined face showing a rare hint of enthusiasm, "Minister Behçet Efendi's engineers, with the assistance of Ferik Fevzi Pasha's recruited ex-army technicians and an astonishing outpouring of voluntary labor from local villagers, have managed to clear and begin relaying the first kilometer of track on the Constantinople-Izmit railway line. It is a small beginning, but the symbolic impact is immense. The loyal press has featured it prominently, and the people see it as a tangible sign that their government is finally building, not just enduring." Murad nodded, pleased. "Such acts of visible progress are crucial for public morale, Tevfik Pasha. Ensure Behçet Efendi has the resources he needs to continue this vital work. Every functioning railway line, every repaired telegraph wire, reknits the fabric of our nation."
This positive domestic news, however, was soon overshadowed by the day's main event: the ongoing struggle within the Port Authority's Joint Commission of Inquiry. Cavit Bey, Minister of Finance, arrived at Yıldız Palace in the early afternoon, his expression a mixture of controlled fury and grim triumph, to report on the latest session to Murad and Tevfik Pasha. "Your Majesty," Cavit began, his voice tight, "today, as per your directive, my team focused our audit on the 'Special Projects Fund' ledgers, to which Colonel Hughes so reluctantly granted us partial access. Even with the limited records provided, what we have begun to unearth is… a scandal of breathtaking proportions, potentially implicating individuals at the very highest of the Allied military administration here." He spread out several meticulously copied ledger pages and photographic enlargements. "Observe, Your Majesty. A series of extraordinarily large, vaguely documented payments – tens of thousands of gold Lira at a time – made from this 'Special Projects Fund' to a holding company registered in Malta, the 'Levantine Trading Syndicate.' This syndicate has no discernible business activities, no physical offices beyond a post box, and its directors are anonymous nominees. However," Cavit paused, his eyes glinting, "Kolağası Esad Bey's intelligence directorate, working with our own financial investigators, has traced the registered address of this phantom company. It is a discreet townhouse in Pera, a townhouse known to be the private, unofficial residence and entertainment venue of several very senior British military officers on General Harington's personal staff." Tevfik Pasha gasped. "Are you suggesting, Cavit Bey, that funds meant for Port development were being directly siphoned off by Harington's inner circle?" "The evidence points overwhelmingly in that direction, Your Highness," Cavit affirmed. "The sums involved are staggering. And when I presented this preliminary finding in the Commission today, demanding full disclosure of the Levantine Trading Syndicate's beneficial owners and the precise nature of the 'services' for which these vast payments were made, Colonel Hughes… he almost had an apoplectic fit." Cavit described a scene of utter chaos in the Commission. Hughes had accused him of "slander, forgery, and attempting to deliberately sabotage Anglo-Ottoman relations with baseless provocations." He had threatened to terminate all cooperation and demanded Cavit retract his "insinuations." Mr. Davies, the British Treasury official, had reportedly turned deathly pale and attempted to stammer out explanations about "complex but legitimate consultancy fees." "And the French and Italians?" Murad asked, his voice dangerously calm. "Monsieur Lacroix and Signor Valenti, Your Majesty," Cavit said with a grim smile, "were like vultures watching a wounded lion. They feigned shock at my 'allegations' but made no move to defend Colonel Hughes. In fact, Lacroix pointedly asked Hughes if, in the interest of 'Allied transparency and solidarity,' the British delegation might wish to provide the Commission with a full, independent accounting of this 'Levantine Trading Syndicate' to 'dispel any unfortunate misunderstandings.' Valenti eagerly concurred. Hughes was left sputtering, isolated, and clearly terrified of what we might uncover next. He refused to provide the ownership details today, citing the need to 'consult with higher authorities due to the sensitive nature of the inquiry.'" "He is stalling for time, trying to alert his patrons," Murad surmised. "But he knows we have him. Cavit Bey, you will press this relentlessly tomorrow. Demand those ownership details. If he refuses again, you will formally declare the British delegation in breach of the Port Agreement's full access clause regarding this specific, massive fraud. You will then refer the matter directly to me. I will then instruct Reşid Akif Pasha to deliver a personal note to General Harington himself, demanding his direct intervention to ensure his subordinates comply with the signed accord, failing which we will be forced to release this specific evidence concerning the 'Levantine Trading Syndicate' and its links to his staff, directly to our international press contacts. Let us see how London reacts to that." The stakes had just been raised to their highest point yet. This was no longer just about general corruption; it was about specific, traceable malfeasance potentially leading to the very top of the British military command in Constantinople.
While this financial battle raged, Kolağası Esad Bey brought equally critical intelligence regarding the internal seditionist, Kara Davud. "Your Majesty," Esad reported, "my operatives investigating the funding for Kara Davud's disrupted printing press have made a significant breakthrough. After tracing a chain of anonymous cash donations through several intermediaries, they have identified the original source: a small import-export business in the Fener district, the 'Anatolian Friendship Company.'" "And its proprietor?" Murad pressed. "A Levantine merchant named Dimitri Stefanopoulos, Your Majesty. An Ottoman subject of Greek extraction, but with a British passport obtained during the war, and known to have very close, albeit discreet, commercial ties with a junior but highly active political officer in the British High Commission's intelligence section – a Major Hesketh, known for his anti-Turkish sentiments and his belief that a strong, assertive Ottoman government is a threat to British regional interests." Murad's eyes narrowed. "So, a British intelligence officer, albeit perhaps acting unofficially or through cut-outs, is funding Kara Davud's attempts to destabilize my government and incite religious division? This is… a new level of treachery." "The link is still circumstantial regarding Major Hesketh's direct involvement in funding Kara Davud, Your Majesty," Esad cautioned. "Stefanopoulos may be acting on his own perceived British interests, or for other motives. But the connection is there, and it is highly suspicious. Stefanopoulos himself has a history of involvement in smuggling and currency manipulation. Kara Davud's 'pious' Islamic rhetoric is clearly a convenient cover for more worldly, and perhaps foreign-directed, objectives." "Continue your investigation into Stefanopoulos and Major Hesketh with utmost urgency and discretion, Esad Bey," Murad commanded. "I need irrefutable proof of this link before we can act upon it diplomatically or otherwise. But also, ensure your operatives redouble their efforts to infiltrate Kara Davud's inner circle. We must know his precise plans and his command structure. This internal enemy, potentially backed by foreign hands, is a cancer we must excise."
On the reconstruction front, Tevfik Pasha and Minister Behçet Efendi reported that the first phase of the Izmit railway line repair was proceeding well, with enthusiastic local support. The recruitment of demobilized army engineers, initiated by Fevzi Pasha, was also proving successful, providing much-needed skilled leadership for the repair crews. "It is a small light, Your Majesty," Behçet Efendi said, "but it shines brightly in the current gloom. The people see their government working for them, rebuilding, and it gives them hope." Ferik Fevzi Pasha confirmed that the first Hassa Ordusu regiment was now fully established at the partially refurbished Davutpaşa Barracks, their advanced training in urban defense and unit cohesion progressing rapidly. "They are a force to be reckoned with, Your Majesty," Fevzi stated with pride. "Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. I have also begun the selection process for the officers and NCOs of the second regiment, as you authorized. The number of qualified, patriotic veterans volunteering is far greater than we initially anticipated."
As the day drew to a close, Murad felt the immense, almost crushing, weight of these intersecting struggles. The unmasking of shadows at the Port Authority was threatening to expose corruption at the highest Allied levels, a revelation that could either bring them to heel or provoke a catastrophic backlash. The equally shadowy threat of Kara Davud, now with a potential link to British intelligence, represented a dangerous internal enemy. Yet, amidst these perils, the tangible signs of reconstruction, the growing strength of the Hassa Ordusu, and the unwavering dedication of his ministers provided a powerful counterbalance. His thoughts, as always, returned to Behram Rıza Bey, now four days into his journey. Only two or three more days, with Allah's grace, until he reached Konya. The silence from Anatolia was a constant, underlying thrum beneath all the other clamor of his reign. The fate of that mission, Murad knew, might yet prove to be the most decisive factor of all. He was fighting battles on every front, seen and unseen, his every decision fraught with risk. But he was fighting. And for the first time in a long while, it felt as though the Ottoman Empire, under his command, was also truly fighting for its future.