“Keep at it,” Grant told him, then returned to his daughter’s phone. When he resumed typing, Frankel could feel the fury flying off the man’s fingers.

Did you kill Hawley because of me?

The sergeant was a little too smart for his own good.

Meaning?

I didn’t anticipate someone getting there that quickly. You taught him well.

Frankel and Rachel watched Grant’s fingers hover over the iPhone. But before he could continue typing, another message appeared.

You might like to know I got Fleming to confess to killing his partner on the Thames. I told Hawley that right before I slit his throat.

All three of them visibly reacted. Particularly Grant. He angrily typed a response and sent it.

So this really is all about me.

With no taking it back, they all waited for an answer.

Of course.

Because I put you in prison twenty years ago? You deserved it.

There was a long pause. Frankel wondered if by lashing out Grant had scared the killer away. But then the ellipsis started back up.

I’m not going to debate that. Or stick around long enough for you to trace this further.

“Damn it!” Frankel exclaimed.

You’ll hear from me right after the holiday. Happy Xmas!

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Rachel.

“Nothing good, that’s for sure,” answered Frankel.

Meanwhile, Grant had continued to type in the message box.

Prior? Still there?

“Bloody hell!” Grant cried out.

Prior!?

He only stopped when the intercom on his phone buzzed.

“We lost him,” said Morrow over the speaker. “He’s switched off the iPhone.”

“How close were you able to get?” asked Grant.

“Maybe a ten-block radius in the East End. But that’s thousands of people.”

“Put together what you’ve got and we’ll go over it in a few moments.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Morrow said.

“You did your best, Mr. Morrow. Thank you.” Grant clicked off.

“Isn’t the East End where Prior Silver lives?” asked Rachel.

“Yes, but with men all over his flat, I suspect he’s not going back there,” replied Grant.

“That might not stop him from hiding in his own neighborhood,” said Frankel.

“We’ll definitely bolster up our surveillance of the area,” agreed Grant.

“Would it be helpful for me to continue looking through Sergeant Hawley’s computer and notebooks?” asked Rachel.

“It couldn’t hurt.” Grant turned toward Frankel. “And we should get you situated somewhere to work out of.”

“Anywhere with a phone, desk, and computer will do,” the detective responded.

“We can manage that. Then we’ll have to bring Stebbins up to date and figure out a plan.”

Frankel realized Grant might only have a week left in his command, but he was by no means shirking his duty. If anything, a steel-like determination had settled in on the Scotland Yard man since returning to Mother England.