Grant motioned back toward the church. “My eulogy was only heard by the five hundred or so people who just left that building twenty minutes ago. It was meant only for Hawley’s close friends and colleagues at the Yard—we didn’t allow it to be broadcast anywhere.”

Frankel indicated the cathedral. “Which means that either Prior Silver was actually in the church at the time . . .”

Grant finished the thought.

“Or someone he’s been talking to was.”

Chapter 25

25

Rachel watched with fascination as the two cops sprang into action.

Their first inclination was to cordon off the area and sequester the attendees, but Grant and John realized it was much too late. The service had concluded a half hour ago and many guests had already left to start celebrating Christmas Eve.

They had a list to work from; there had been a checkpoint set up at the cathedral entrance where names were crossed off as they entered the church. But they rapidly abandoned the idea of interviewing everyone as a potential co-conspirator with Prior Silver.

“If, after the funeral, one did get in touch directly with Silver, they’re not going to admit having contacted a mass murderer,” Grant pointed out.

Rachel thought her father seemed calmer than just moments before, having even caught a bemused smile. “You don’t seem troubled by this turn of events.”

“I’m actually encouraged,” said Grant.

“How so?” asked Everett.

“The last thing Silver texted was that we’d be hearing from him after the holiday,” Grant explained. “And here it’s not even Christmas Eve and the man has already broken that promise with a threat.”

John nodded. “You’ve rattled him.”

“Exactly,” said Grant. “And that is when someone who prides themselves on laying out a precise and orderly plan is liable to make a mistake.”

Everett smiled and looked at Rachel. “The Yard is going to miss your father.”

“You better believe it.” She turned toward Grant. “Does that mean you’re just going to chuck the list?”

“Absolutely not. We’ll begin to cull our way through it. But the first thing we need to do is check and see if our friend Mr. Silver tried to crash the funeral.”

A couple of hours later, they were fairly sure Silver had been a no-show.

Everett had taken his leave before Rachel and the two cops headed back inside the church. Her uncle said he still hoped to see them around eight but would understand if they needed to cancel dinner due to this latest wrinkle.

Once Everett departed, they’d turned their attention to Southwark’s security cameras, of which there were plenty. The thousand-year-old edifice had been well-stocked with surveillance equipment post 9/11 and the rash of bombings in the UK.