The other was found in an alley with his throat cut, the bowstring wire used to strangle him left embedded in his neck. Later that afternoon, two more of Jamil Reshid's secret couriers were killed before they could leave Barikah. She was due a visit-perhaps a lengthy one. As the muezzins called from the heights of the many minarets in the city, the pearl merchant was kneeling on his prayer rug in the back of his shop and thinking it had been too long since he had seen his daughter in the country. A quick search of the body produced a paper of some sort, and then the assailant was gone, slipping away without a backward glance, the body of the Turk left lying where it fell, blood running in rivulets down the steep cobbled street in an invitation to the flies to come and feast.Ībdul ibn-Mesih decided he wouldn't walk to the mosque for afternoon prayers today after all. Instead, the larger man caught his prey at the end of the street and nearly cleaved him in two with the scimitar he wielded. If only they had turned the corner and passed out of his sight, he wouldn't have had nightmares that night. The young Turk and the large, black-robed man who was chasing him ran right past Abdul, not giving the pearl merchant the slightest notice. So he was the only one on the street at this time, which was why he was the only one to witness the murder. As long as he was able, he would walk to the nearest mosque rather than use the prayer rug he kept in the back of his tiny shop, unlike some of his less pious neighbors.

Abdul had at least ten minutes to spare, but he was getting old, his bones prone to aches that slowed him down, so he needed to leave early each day. On the Street of the Jewelers, the pearl merchant, Abdul ibn-Mesih, closed his shop in anticipation of the singsong chant of the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer.

Silver Angel by Johanna Lindsey