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involvement, I presume.”
    “I can’t say for definite, but what would their motive be?”
    “I agree, so where does that leave us?”
    “I think it’s a hit, commander.”
    “The Patels being the possible target?”
    “It’s a possibility that needs to be investigated. Patel has some very dubious business associates.”
    “Malik Shah, I believe.” Alec thought the commander sounded like the bulldog from the car insurance adverts on the television. “That man has been a thorn in my side for as long as I can remember.”
    “It could be a coincidence, commander, but the extremist attack doesn’t sit right. It’s a hunch, but the evidence tells me it’s a hit.”
    “Was Patel of value to Malik Shah?”
    “According to Smithy, the drugs squad had him down as the bookkeeper for the entire operation, but they could never follow the money trail to anything solid.”
    “Do you think Shah could have taken him out, maybe he was skimming off the top?” the commander speculated.
    “Who knows, it’s way too early to tell, but my money is on a link to Shah, rather than right-wing extremists, commander.”
    “I tend to agree, but if it is, then the ball will be in your court.”
    “Yes, commander, I thought as much.” Alec swept his hand across his mouth and eyes, rubbing them.
    “I think the joint departments meeting will iron out where we go with this.”
    “We’re working our way through the possible options, commander. If it falls to us, then we’ll hit the ground running.” Alec swallowed hard, and loosened his tie. It seemed that this case was about to drop into his lap.

Chapter Eleven
Lana Pindar – Present Day
    Lana floated in and out of a troubled sleep. Her dreams were real and worrying. She dreamt of a lake and a rowing boat. Mamood had fallen into the water, and no matter how hard she rowed, the boat drifted further away from him. Lana called his name and shouted for help, but he was being carried away by an unseen current. There wasn’t anything she could do to help him. He became a spot on the horizon, just before he disappeared beneath the dark waters. She awoke with a start, out of breath and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. The red glow of their digital clock told her that it was past three in the morning, and she hadn’t heard Mamood coming home. She didn’t make a fuss when he was late, but she didn’t sleep soundly until she knew that he was home safe. Lana thought that maybe he’d sneaked in quietly, while she had dozed, but she dismissed that as wishful thinking. She knew when her son was home, and when he wasn’t. It was a mother’s intuition. Lana lifted the quilt and slipped out of bed. Ashwan murmured and turned onto his back. He could sleep through an avalanche without waking. She tiptoed across the thick white carpet to the door, where she removed her dressing gown from its hook and pulled it on.
    Lana moved quietly down the landing, thick carpet cushioning her footsteps. She hoped she was overreacting as she pushed open her son’s bedroom door. Amir Khan, the Asian boxing hero from Bolton, snarled at her from his place above Mamood’s bed. His Manchester United quilt cover lay unruffled. There was no sign of a sleeping teenager beneath it. Lana bit her lip and her stomach twisted and sank. She felt physically sick with worry. He had been home late from parties before, but never this late. Midnight was his allowed time, and he never pushed the deadline much past half-past. Mamood had been so full of life and excitement when he’d left that evening. The thought of his prospective date had made him high and giddy.
    Maybe he’d got lucky, she thought, remembering what he’d said before he left, but then maybe he was in trouble. Lana was his mother, and she was bound to worry about her only son for the rest of her days, that was what mothers did. She sat on his bed and touched his pillow. He was growing up so quickly, and his staying out late with girls was something that