Grant then walked the press through the victims and parallels that could be drawn between them and the first five of the Lord’s laws. By the time he got to Leeds and the theory that the killer had punished him for crimes committed three decades earlier, the press was hanging on his every word.

Grant had purposely withheld how they’d tumbled to Leeds, claiming it was the result of thorough police work. Informing the media that the killer was leaving messages for the cops in the stomach lining of dead priests and all over the walls of abandoned insane asylums would only add to the feeding frenzy.

With everyone checking their smart phones to consult the Old Testament, it was only seconds before Grant and Frankel were assaulted with questions about the Sixth Commandment.

Thou shalt not kill.

“Do you think the killer is targeting another released murderer like Leeds?”

“What if it’s someone who’s committed a murder you don’t know about yet?”

Grant had said these were things they were considering.

He didn’t bring up that the sixth victim might already be out there and that they were also now also searching for a cheating spouse.

The questions had moved on to the killer. Did they know for sure it was a man—could it be a woman? Was it some religious fanatic?

Lieutenant Harris, who up until that point had been quietly steaming in his seat watching the presser dissolve into a free-for-all, got to his feet. He said the department was working on a psychological profile for the killer and left it at that. Grant knew a profile was in the works, but highly doubted it would ever be handed over to the media.

At that point, Harris had mercifully brought the press conference to an end, citing the need for the NYPD and other agencies (“of which Scotland Yard is one of many”—a dig that wasn’t lost on Grant) to bring the perpetrator to justice.

The second it was over, Grant had moved into the dispersing crowd of journalists to find Rachel. He was relieved to see she hadn’t tried to slip out a door in the rear.

She’d started speaking right away. “Dad, I was only . . .”

He’d cut her off with a look. “Right now, I need you to come with me. There will be plenty of time for talking—but not here.” Grant couldn’t remember having used such a firm tone with his daughter. But he also couldn’t recall where he felt it necessary.

That was when Harris had descended on the Scotland Yard commander.

“What the hell is going on here?” Harris had demanded.

“Please give me and Detective Frankel a few moments to get to the bottom of this,” Grant had requested.

“See that you do,” ordered Harris, already being pulled by Little back into the fracas to rework a new statement on the case.