The truth was that Saint Anne’s in Limehouse, only a few blocks from his Stepney flat, was totally open for business. But with constables watching his place and the surrounding neighborhood, Prior thought it best not to take the risk.

“You should know that Saint Cyprian’s welcomes one and all.”

Prior suppressed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Father.”

“Go in peace, my son.”

Double the blessing, thought Prior. I’ll take it.

Not long after, he ducked into the Marylebone tube station and stopped at a coffee cart for a double espresso. He downed it in a few sips, immediately feeling the caffeine rush that he desperately needed to keep himself going.

The question was where?

He wasn’t sure but thought he might start by taking the District Line west. Staying away from the East End seemed like a good idea for now. Somewhere near Wimbledon possibly.

He was just about to head through the turnstile when he caught sight of the television screen above a small newsstand.

Prior’s very own face was staring back at him.

It was in the upper right corner of the screen, one of the inmate photos from back at Hatfield.

The blond news anchor sat front and center reading copy behind her desk. The sound was muted but Prior didn’t need (or dare) to ask them to turn it up.

He pretty much got the gist from the huge red-and-white chyron on the bottom third of the screen.

SUSPECT IN COMMANDMENT KILLINGS

Prior took a couple steps backward and stood behind a column.

How could this be happening?

He peeked around the column to risk one more look.

This time, his image was filling up the whole screen.

Prior ducked back. Then he lowered his head and pulled his cap down as far as it could go and made for the exit.

He had been right earlier. There was definitely going to be another conversation.

Even sooner than he thought.

Chapter 23

23

“I’m afraid he’s on to us.”

At first, Rachel had no idea what John was talking about.

Wasn’t it the other way around? That they were on to Prior Silver?

She said as much to John. That was when he told her about his brief but pointed conversation with her father.

“And you’re just telling me this now?”

“Well, this way I figured you couldn’t run off somewhere and we’d have to talk about it.”

She looked out the glass window and down at nighttime London spread out hundreds of feet below. City lights flickered as they floated up in a glass-enclosed bubble car on the London Eye Ferris wheel.

“Oh, I see. You thought, I’ll take her to highest point in London, drop this little bombshell and go—‘oh, sorry, hold on to your seat—down we go!’”