White Coat looked uncomfortable. He possessed information and had not passed it on. If Akbar Khan had been alive this would have gone badly for him; even though he didn’t work for the Jirga, his family, business associates, people he worshipped with, did, and that was how the Khan’s power worked. It was why it was difficult to escape it. He turned to Jia. Hanging out with her had been the best part of school. Not only was she the smartest girl he had ever met, she also always had time to hear about his schemes, ideas others usually thought were crazy. He had tried to stay in touch with her, but after her brother’s death she had stopped responding to his emails.

‘I wanted to work with your father but he didn’t always understand our operation, see?’ he said. ‘But if you’re stepping in…I mean, taking over, I’d like to help. I know the Polskie’s shipments are sold on in bulk, cheap and fast. I gather they’ve been talking to Hajji Taj, you know, the travel agent? I reckon they’re gonna send the money through his place.’

Jia leaned over and took White Coat’s hand. ‘Thank you, Abdul,’ she said. ‘That information means a great deal to me. Keep your ear to the ground and let us us know if you hear anything more? We will be in touch with you very soon.’

White Coat’s brown cheeks reddened further.

CHAPTER 32

‘It makes sense,’ said Idris as they left the factory. ‘We’ll need a strong team, and he’s got the experience, and we can trust him. My advice would be to ask him to head up the drugs. Quality control, alternative ways of distribution and bringing the product over.’

The sun was getting low. The light was turning the stone buildings the colour of chamcham, and it made Jia think of the Sweet Centre, where her father used to take them on Sunday mornings for halva and puri. There would be rows and rows of sweetmeats, squares of barfi, round and fat gulab jamun steeped in syrup, and soft milky rasmalai. It seemed like only yesterday. Memories of Akbar Khan had been coming thick and fast over the last two months as she figured out her place and her plan.

She pulled the black collar of her coat up high. The bitter wind bit hard.