“I don’t have your expertise,” Frankel responded. “But they look exactly the same to me.”

Jeffries thought the couple had been attacked by the fireplace where they had probably been sitting when the killer arrived. “They were fully clothed and the blood spatters indicate they were moved to the bed after their necks were slashed.” The FME brought a finger to his forehead. “Stains on the pillowcases make me suspect the numerals were carved after they’d been, shall we say, laid to rest there.”

“And Sergeant Hawley?” asked Grant.

The pain behind the question was written all over his face.

“I suspect the killer caught him by surprise near the door.”

“While he was looking at Fleming and Dozier?” suggested Frankel.

“Seems more than likely.”

The FME pointed to a puddle of blood on the plastic-covered carpet. “The sergeant would have turned to find the killer right behind him. Once dispatched, his body was placed on top of the others in what seems to be a very precise position.”

“Staged,” said Frankel.

“Quite,” agreed Jeffries. “If he had just been tossed there, his limbs would have been all askew.”

Grant delivered the sign of the cross over his fallen comrade. When the commander looked up, Frankel could see the emotion brimming in his eyes.

“I haven’t done that since I was in first form,” Grant said softly. The Scotland Yard man turned to Jeffries. “Did you find any mark on him?” he asked the FME. The desperation in his voice was audible. “A Roman numeral somewhere?”

“Nothing like that,” Jeffries answered. “We’ll continue to look but I think it’s safe to assume the sergeant was just at the wrong place at the worst possible time.”

Grant turned back to look directly at Frankel. When he spoke, his voice was laced with fury.

“This has to stop. Now.”

Frankel had barely touched the room service tray. Even the chocolate milkshake he’d found on the all-day menu had no appeal.

He had spent the first hour in the tiny but well-appointed room at the boutique Covent Garden Hotel (suggested by the Grants) pacing. He finally realized he hadn’t eaten since whatever had masqueraded as food on the flight and thought it wise to order something.

Once the hamburger, fries, and shake had arrived, it already confirmed what Frankel had suspected.

He’d completely lost his appetite.

Upon exiting the Esher mansion, Frankel and Grant realized they were no further along than when they had left the States.

The crime scene team had found evidence of another car parked outside the mansion but there was no way to tell what the make had been. Seeing as how Prior Silver had never owned a car, and there was no record of him renting one, it seemed likely he had boosted it or found one with a key inside, like Josephine Tuttle’s Hyundai Sonata in Far Rockaway.