few details we know, we have to wonder if whoever murdered Smead also read the book and is copying it for some reason. Whether that is helpful to you remains to be seen.”
“Why would a murderer bother to copy a crime from a book?” McConnelly asked.
“We don’t know. But we brought the book with the particular scene marked for your review.” Annabelle withdrew the book from her reticule and passed it to the officer.
Thomas hadn’t wanted to give him the book as doing so seemed like an invitation to draw attention to the author—Annabelle. If the police decided to investigate her, it would be impossible to keep her identity a secret. He’d warned her of the risk when they’d planned this outing, but she insisted finding the murderer was more important than hiding her name.
“Can you tell us anything more about where the body was found or what was near it?” Thomas asked.
“We aren’t releasing any further details until an arrest is made.” He glanced at the book. “Does an additional murder follow the one in the book?”
“Two, actually,” Thomas answered with reluctance. He didn’t care to think of what that suggested—that they were far from done with the danger.
“How are the victims connected in the book?”
“They’re not,” Annabelle said. “They aren’t acquainted but happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, so to speak.”
“This is highly unusual.” McConnelly opened the book where Annabelle had placed a piece of paper to mark the scene and skimmed the page. “I’m going to need to speak with the author.”
“Artemis Press represents the author and will be happy to cooperate if needed.” Thomas offered a card to the man.
“How soon can you arrange a meeting?” McConnelly asked.
“Why don’t you provide a list of questions, and I’ll arrange for the author to answer them?” As the officer started to protest, Thomas held up a finger to stop him. “While we intend to provide assistance where possible, the author’s identity is protected by the publishing contract. I’m sure you understand.”
McConnelly leaned forward, his gaze holding on Thomas. “And I’m sure you understand that we’re investigating a murder. You can’t expect me to ignore the very clue you just handed me.” He lifted the book to make his point.
“If the author committed a crime, why would he insist Artemis Press contact you and make you aware of the similarities between the book and the murder?” Thomas managed to keep his tone even when he wanted to rush Annabelle away before any harm befell her. “If you’re willing to provide additional information so we can confirm whether the murder truly matches the one described in the story or if you have questions for the author, let me know.”
“I’ll be in contact. Soon.”
“Thank you for your time.” Thomas took Annabelle’s elbow and rose with the hope she would do so as well. He didn’t think the officer would welcome further inquiries and hoped Annabelle didn’t press him. He didn’t want to rouse the man’s suspicions and bring the investigation to their doorstep more than they already had.
“We hope you catch the person who did this.” Annabelle’s tone suggested an urgency to Thomas’s ears.
“We will.” The confidence in McConnelly’s demeanor was somewhat reassuring.
Thomas said nothing as they departed and walked toward the waiting hackney.
“Well?” he asked after he and Annabelle were seated inside. “What did you think?”
“Not only did we confirm the presence of the red button but the acorn as well based on the officer’s reaction. This is all highly disturbing.”
“Agreed.” Thomas shook his head as the conveyance started forward. “But I still can’t determine a valid reason for the murderer to copy the book. The murders aren’t particularly unusual or frightening.”
“I’m not certain if I should be insulted or relieved.”
“I only mean they’re similar to what happens in other murder mysteries.” He didn’t want to worry her or allow her to feel guiltier than she already did. Though they hadn’t learned anything significant during the interview, he was thoroughly unsettled by the suggestion of any tie between Annabelle and the murderer. With what little they knew thus far, he was at a loss as to what to do next.
When the hackney returned to the stand near Aberland House, he assisted Annabelle to alight. “I’ll walk you back.”
“No need.”
“There is every need.” The tight sensation in his chest insisted on it. He paid the driver then turned to Annabelle. “Which way?”
She took his offered arm, and they walked along the well-kept street then turned the