But as gratifying as it had been to come up with Prior Silver as the prime suspect, it had been equally frustrating to feel the man slip through their grasp upon his return to England. By the time they’d tumbled to the former mechanic’s return flight on Norwegian Air, Silver had been on British soil for hours and was nowhere to be found. There had been no sight of him near his small flat in the East End, and though Hawley had dispatched constables to comb the surrounding area, he had a sinking feeling Silver wasn’t returning home any time soon.

If Grant were right, Prior Silver and his trusty knife were on their murderous way to catching up with Jared Fleming and Liz Dozier.

The trouble was that Hawley and his colleagues hadn’t been able to get in touch with either of them—and that was of great concern.

The Fleming Mess.

Deep down, both Hawley and Grant had known they weren’t done with it; and sure enough, it had raised its ugly head once more. Just in time to put a further damper on the conclusion of Grant’s illustrious career.

It seemed appropriate. The Fleming Mess, as Grant referred to it, had probably been what got the commander thinking about retiring in the first place.

Fleming’s was a British tobacco company dating back to the eighteenth century, when Joshua Fleming had begun importing crops he owned from the Carolina territories. Now, generations later, Jared Fleming had led the company into the twenty-first century—an industry leader producing cigarettes and a selection of fine cigars. A few years back, Jared had brought Matthew Dozier aboard as a partner with the man’s infusion of cash. At first the partnership went swimmingly, but in recent years there had been debate about the future direction of the Fleming’s brand.

Recently, Dozier had been a strong supporter of vaping. What had begun with the introduction of e-cigarettes to combat the anti-nicotine campaigns and government restrictions on advertising had blossomed into a craze, with teens and millennials flocking to vape bars springing up all over London, vowing never to buy a pack of cigarettes again.

Jared, ever the traditionalist, had argued with his partner about adding a vaping line to the well-established Fleming products that had kept his family rolling cigarettes and in the money. Jared maintained an impressive estate in Esher, just southwest of London in the county of Surrey, along with a pair of fancy cars and a boat he took out every weekend on the Thames.

The one thing that Jared Fleming desired but didn’t have was Elizabeth Dozier, his partner’s beautiful blond wife.

But if you were to believe Commander Austin Grant (and Sergeant Hawley always did), it had only been a matter of time until that situation was rectified.