"I wish I did have something to tell you, Inspector," Larson said, "but if Davis had uncovered something, he never had the chance to tell me."
"You're quite certain?" Grayson said, watching him carefully.
"Tom Davis was no fool," said Larson, "nor was he a hero. If he had learned the killer's identity, he would never have kept it to himself and he certainly would not have risked confronting him alone."
"Not even for the sake of an exclusive story?" Grayson said.
"Tom was much more than a colleague, Inspector," Larson said. "He was a close friend. I knew him. He wouldn't do anything like that."
"Well, I hope you're right," said Grayson. "I'd hate to think that a man died for something so foolhardy. I suppose the newspapers are truly going to scream about this. Losing one of their own and so forth. I don't wish to seem callous, Larson, but I do hope you will employ some discretion when you write your story. The manner of death is, after all, not quite like the others. There is no real evidence that the killer was the same."
"But you don't really believe that," Larson said.
Grayson looked down at the ground and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "No, I don't." he said after a moment. "Whoever killed poor Davis had to possess astonishing strength. Much like what happened in the courtyard, when those men were thrown about like so much chaff. Perhaps we'll be able to learn something from an examination of the body, but I'm almost beginning to believe that we may he faced with something beyond our ability to understand. There is some sort of horror loose in London, something that-" He caught himself and glanced up at Larson quickly. "I hope you will not quote me," he said.
/> Larson shook his head. "I have already forgotten what you said, Inspector."
Grayson looked relieved. "Thank you. My superiors are making things difficult enough for me as it is. For what it's worth, I promise you that I won't rest until I find this fiend and bring him to justice. And I shall find him. I swear it.''
Larson nodded and looked hack at the body. "I'll have to inform his… his family."
"Would you rather I do that?" said Grayson.
"No, I think it would be best if they were to hear it from me," said Larson. "I'd better go and see to it, before the news reaches them some other way."
"I understand," said Grayson. "Forgive me if I seemed a bit-"
“No need,” said Larson. "You have your job to do." "Yes, and I'd best be on about it," Grayson said. "Please pass on my condolences to the poor chap's family." "Thank you, Inspector. I'll do that."
Grayson looked at him strangely for a moment. ' Larson.. do be careful."
"God damn it, no!" Delaney said. "It's much too dangerous."
"We have no choice," said Steiger. "If we're blown, we've got to move the command post now and that means someone has to stay behind and get word to all our people."
"We know where most of our people are," Delaney said. "We could set up a rendezvous and clock out separately, pass the word on to everyone directly-"
"And what happens if some of them clock in while we're out looking for them?" Steiger said. "They'd have no idea that we're blown and they'd be sitting ducks if Drakov made a strike on the command post. Besides, I don't want to risk having everyone spread out all over the place. That makes us vulnerable. We have no idea where Davis and Larson are-"
"Davis is dead," said Larson, entering the room.
"What!" said Steiger. "How? What happened?"
"I've just left Grayson. They found Davis in an alley behind a pub in Whitechapel," Larson said. "His head was twisted around 360 degrees, practically torn right off his neck."
"Ransome must have talked," Delaney said.
"What about Ransome?" Larson said.
"He's missing," said Christine Bram. "He was late checking in and there's been no sign of him.”
"Drakov must have got a hold of him somehow," said Delaney. "We're blown. Ransome must have told him about the entire operation.'
"I don't believe it," Larson said. "Paul would never break." "The hell he wouldn't," Delaney said. "Be realistic. Anyone can be deprogrammed. How else could we have been blown?" "It might have been Rizzo," Andre said.
"Rizzo's missing, too?" said Larson.
Andre nodded. "I showed up to relieve him and there was no sign of him. I found his pushcart abandoned in the street. No one even had a chance to steal it yet."