No Trip To Corfu
Jared Hussein took a quick look at his cards. He had hoped for a winning hand , but clearly this one wasn’t. He laid his cards on the table, and waited for the other men to do so. He had lost three hundred pounds
cash,which was his limit. He bid the other players good night, and headed toward home.
Gambling wasn’t in accordance with his faith; he made sure never to use gambling proceeds for Zakat, a tax levied on his income for relief of the poor. So first he
headed for his mosque to pray. As Hussein prayed he felt less constrained; he finished his prayer and headed for the door. At the door he embraced the imam and told him that he’d see him later.
Hussein began walking away from the mosque, he just lived three doors down. Then he stopped; he had left his coat inside. He turned and as he reached the steps to the mosque, a strong arm grabbed him, bared his throat, and held a sharp blade to his throat. With one swift motion Hussein’s throat was opened, and blood spurted out from his carotid artery on to the pavement!
At five a.m. when his phone rang Nicholas Moretti knew that he’d have to cancel or at least postpone his excursion to Corfu. His boss, DI Pip Nash, informed him that there had been a homicide in front of a mosque. He was to report for duty with haste.
Was it a terrorists attack? Had a militia claimed credit?
Read Latent Damage and join the investigation!
❤️✝️✡️❤️