Sachs continued, ‘The Watchmaker was always an enigma. We didn’t know much about him – he had California connections was about all. Some distant family we could never track down, no associates. This might be the chance to find people who knew and worked with him – legitimately or in his criminal projects. Right, Rhyme?’

One hundred percent, he reflected.

Rhyme said to Pulaski, ‘And when you find out the funeral home, I want you there.’

‘Me?’

‘Your first undercover assignment.’

‘Not first,’ he corrected.

‘First at a funeral.’

‘That’s true. Who should I be?’

Rhyme said the first thing that came to his mind. ‘Harold Pigeon.’

‘Harry Pigeon?’

‘I was thinking of birds.’ A nod toward the nest of peregrine falcons on Rhyme’s window ledge, huddled down against the storm. They tended to nest lower in bad weather.

‘Harry Pigeon.’ The patrolman was shaking his head. ‘No way.’

Sachs laughed. Rhyme grimaced. ‘I don’t care. Make up your own damn name.’

‘Stan Walesa. My mother’s father.’

‘Perfect.’ An impatient look at a box in the corner of the room. ‘There. Get one of those.’

‘What’s that?’

Sachs explained, ‘Prepaid mobiles. We keep a half dozen of them here for ops like this.’

The young officer collected one. ‘A Nokia. Hm. Flip phone. State of the art.’ He said this with consummate sarcasm.

Before he dialed, Sachs said, ‘Just be sure to memorize the number first, so if somebody asks for it you don’t fumble.’

‘Sure. Good.’ Pulaski used the prepaid to call his personal phone and noted the number then stepped away to make the call.

Sachs and Rhyme turned to the crime scene report on the City Hall mugging case and made some edits.

A moment later Pulaski returned. ‘The hospital said they’re waiting to hear about where to send the body. The morgue director said he’s expecting a call in the next few hours.’

Rhyme looked him over. ‘You up for this?’

‘I suppose. Sure.’

‘If there’s a service, you’ll go. If not, you’ll get to the funeral home at the same time as whoever’s picking up the remains. The flowers from me’ll be there. Now, that’ll be a conversation starter – the man Richard Logan tried to kill and who put him in jail sends flowers to his funeral.’

‘Who’s Walesa supposed to be?’

‘An associate of Logan’s. Exactly who, I’m not sure. I’ll have to think it through. But it should be somebody inscrutable, dangerous.’ He scowled. ‘I wish you didn’t look like an altar boy. Were you one?’

‘My brother and I both.’

‘Well, practice looking scruffy.’

‘Don’t forget dangerous,’ Sachs said, ‘though that’s going to be tougher than inscrutable.’

Thom brought Rhyme some coffee in a straw-fitted cup. Apparently the aide had noticed him glancing at Sachs’s. Rhyme thanked him with a nod.

Old married couple …