Lawson shifted and cleared his throat. “Be that as it may, our investigation requires we examine one of Dupin’s manuscripts and for us to speak with Dupin ourselves.” He produced his notepad and pencil and slid them across the desk. “If you’ll provide his most recent manuscript and his contact information, we’ll be on our way.”
“I wish I could help, but you’ll need a warrant for that manuscript.”
So much for Mr. O’Dell’s cooperation.
“As far as Dupin’s identity, I can tell you honestly, I don’t know who Dupin is. Signing him on with that anonymity agreement was the best choice I ever made.”
“Then how do you pay him or contact him when there is a problem?”
“All communication and payments are made through another author.”
“And that would be?” Lawson nodded toward the notepad.
O’Dell ignored it. “Unless you have a warrant, I’m not at liberty to tell you. I must protect those in my employ.”
O’Dell had dozens of authors. Any one of them could be Dupin’s contact. No, not any of them. Dupin started writing for O’Dell three years ago. If he insisted on communicating through another author, that person must have already been established here and likely still wrote. Dupin had eight novels, so his contact likely had more. Based on the number of authors with entire shelves to display their work, that fact narrowed things down significantly.
When avoiding answering questions, people often gave themselves away through unintended signals. It wasn’t perfect but worth an attempt. Otherwise, Abraham and Lawson would be knocking on the doors of authors all week long.
Abraham stood so that he had a better view of O’Dell’s physical responses. “Would Dupin’s friend happen to be Rebecca Maney?”
O’Dell remained silent.
“T. G. DiVincenzo.”
Again, nothing.
The last author who met Abraham’s criteria was one he deeply hoped would result in the same response.
“What about Lydia Pelton?”
O’Dell remained silent, but he visibly tensed while his lips flattened and his Adam’s apple bobbed.
Abraham’s stomach sank. One response could mean nothing, but all three at once? So much for discerning Miss Pelton’s character through her writing. Sheknewthe police were searching for Dupin, but instead of revealing her connection to him, she’d suggested Abraham read his books as if that might prove his innocence.
He’d been duped, and he had no one to blame but himself. He should have known a woman who’d steal a goat wasn’t to be trusted. At least he’d discovered her character before he’d allowed his heart to become entangled. This would serve as a reminder that, if he wanted a wife, he’d have to make an effort to meet women outside of his professional interactions.
Lawson jumped on O’Dell’s physical response. “How is Miss Pelton connected to Dupin?”
O’Dell scowled. “I don’t have to answer that.”
“I noticed that she has over a dozen books displayed on your shelves. She must be a very popular author. I’m sure you don’t want the papers discovering her connection to Dupin. If the papers printed that information, Miss Pelton might feel it unsafe to continue writing for you.”
Lawson must be bluffing. He wouldn’t really risk Miss Pelton’s reputation or safety by sharing her Dupin connection with the papers, would he? Even if he didn’t care for Miss Pelton, Lawson must care about his career. Their jobs would not survive to the end of the case if the mayor found out they were responsible for his friend’s daughter being exposed to danger.
Thankfully, O’Dell didn’t test the bluff. He grimaced and dropped his arms. “I suspect they’re romantically involved. Their characters sometimes appear in each other’s novels, especially when they have similar deadlines. They must spend a great deal of time brainstorming and writing together. Other than for romance, I can’t fathom why they would do so.”
“Dupin could be a family member,” Lawson reasoned.
“Miss Pelton has no brothers. Her father is the coroner and, while a decent man, does not have the knack for writing. He once submitted a story that was best used for the lining of my wife’s birdcage. If Dupin’s a family member, then it must be a distant one.” The publisher picked up a pen and examined it thoughtfully. When he spoke again, it was in a firm tone. “I’m telling you, her relationship with the man is a romantic one. I pressed her to reveal his identity when his books began to outsell hers, but she refused. Said it would ruin his reputation. Even after promises of secrecy and a threat to fire her, she refused to betray him. She’s confident enough in his affections that she declared if I fired her, Dupin would go to a competitor.”
Usually, Abraham viewed loyalty with respect, but all he could muster now was dismay. He’d intentionally flirted with her to test for potential interest. She’d flirted back for nothing more than entertainment. Rejection always stung, but at least he’d not given her the opportunity to declare a coward like Dupin a better choice of partner than him. Call him spiteful, but it pleased him that he and Lawson were about to reveal the character of her beau as lacking.
CHAPTER9
LYDIA KNEW THERE WOULD BEconsequences in delivering her almost-late manuscript in person, but she hadn’t anticipated facing a crowd of picketers. They looked peaceable enough, but they were angry with the publisher. Would they take out their frustration on her, one of O’Dell’s authors? If they knew she was Dupin, they’d likely drag her by the collar to the nearest station—after a good beating.
If her romance novel weren’t in danger of being late, she’d go to the post office and mail it. But if it didn’t arrive by the end of the business day, she’d be in breach of contract, and O’Dell would love nothing better than to penalize her pay. The man was as greedy as a bank thief and as cunning as a squirrel after birdseed.
