9 Chapter 9

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Is Alastair right? Mars pondered the question on his ride back to the city. Dylan definitely isn’t the sort of guy we usually try to recruit. His killing Samson was unplanned, done in a moment of panic and self-preservation. I suspect he’s never in his life even considered murdering someone, much less carrying through with it. He was damned lucky we had Samson under surveillance. If we hadn’t, he’d be sitting in a jail cell right now. He smiled dryly. But then, so would I if Alastair hadn’t worked his magic.

Mars had been a petty thief in what he thought of as his misspent youth. Coming from a lower-middleclass family—in a large eastern city—he’d resented the richer kids he’d gone to school with. His career in crime had started when he stole from their lockers and backpacks. After dropping out of high school, he’d moved on to bigger and better things, finding a couple of pawnshops willing to take what he had to sell.

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