“I just don’t see him moving on to the Seventh Commandment unless he’s already gone and murdered a sixth person.”

“Maybe he’s changing things up—keeping us on our toes.”

Grant shook his head. “He’s been systematically working a very specific pattern. My concern is that the murders are becoming increasingly extravagant—not to mention happening more frequently. If there’s a sixth victim out there, he killed them within hours of Leeds.”

“‘Thou shalt not kill .’ So, what are we looking for? Another killer?” Frankel switched lanes again. “Maybe he’s still talking about Leeds. Figures he could knock off two birds with one stone. The guy was a murderer who offed his mom and dad. Violates both the Fifth and Sixth Commandments.”

“Wouldn’t he have etched a Roman numeral I to go with the V we found on his forehead?”

“Just wishful thinking on my part,” said Frankel. He indicated the police radio below the dashboard. “I’ve got them running the system for released killers in the Tri-State area. See if any are missing or if one of their bodies showed up.”

“It doesn’t have to be a convicted-and-released killer. Might be a murderer who has gotten away with their crime so far.”

Frankel stared out at the Manhattan skyline rising in front of them.

“Most times I think there can’t be a more magnificent place to live. But tonight? All I see is how damn big the city is and wonder how the hell we’re going to find a dead murderer’s body we’re not even sure exists yet, let alone the right cheating spouse. It makes my head hurt.”

Grant heard a slight gurgling sound and saw Frankel rubbing his stomach.

“Not to mention my insides grumble. Hungry?”

Grant tried to remember when he last ate. He realized it hadn’t been since breakfast with Rachel at the Surrey. He couldn’t believe it was the same day.

“It’s one in the morning.”

“You know how they call New York ‘the city that doesn’t sleep’?”

“I know the song,” Grant said.

“They should’ve added another verse. Called it ‘the city that always eats.’”

The line was at least thirty deep and curved around the southwest corner at Fifty-Third Street and Sixth Avenue.

The Halal Guys, more commonly known as “Fifty-Third and Sixth,” had been serving New Yorkers from their hot food cart since it had first appeared next to the New York Hilton in 1990. It opened every night at seven o’clock and closed at four in the morning. The most popular dish, and what Frankel insisted Grant try, was a simple combination of chicken, rice, and pita bread with their famous “white sauce,” whose recipe the Egyptian proprietor would take to his grave.