Page 76 of Girl, Fractured

‘The news said someone shot him.’

He didn’t even know.

So why did he have those exact same stones in his apartment?

‘That police report.Those stones.Were they yours?’

‘No,’ Nicholls said confidently.‘Never seen them before.I was lying when I said they were mine.’

‘So, how did they get into your apartment?’

Nicholls looked at her blankly.His lack of response said more than words ever could.

Ripley thought of Ella, and for some reason, David Copperfield.How he transported a woman from Vegas to Hawaii seemingly by magic.Except it wasn’t magic.He’d just paid for her to go to Hawaii, filmed her on a beach there, then planted her back in the audience in Vegas.

Planted her.

It had all been premeditated.

An illusion.

And to the unsuspecting people watching, it looked like something it wasn’t.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

‘Hi, is that… Malcolm?’

‘Yes it is.Who’s this?’

Ella found herself pacing Thomas Webb’s kitchen.She hadn’t expected the stranger to answer at this hour, but he’d picked up on the third ring.

‘My name’s Ella Dark, I’m with the FBI.I found your number attached to a contract you’d sent to a Mr.Thomas Webb.I’m sorry for calling you so late.’

‘Ah, no problem.I’m Thomas’s assigned editor.I’m holding his hand through the final process.You said you’re with the FBI?’

‘Yes, FBI.I’m afraid I need to tell you something difficult about Thomas Webb.’Ella’s stomach performed the familiar death-notification plummet.She tried to be as formal as possible.The verbal equivalent of bracing someone before pushing a dislocated shoulder back into place.

‘Oh?Has something happened to Tom?’Malcolm’s voice was tinged with the budding anxiety of someone who already knew the answer but was desperately hoping to be wrong.

‘I’m very sorry to inform you that Thomas Webb was found murdered in his home tonight.’

Three, four, five seconds unspooled while electrons carried the news across whatever distance separated them.Ella could hear the soft whisper of Malcolm’s breath catching, then the subtle click of a throat constricting around words that wouldn’t form.

‘Murdered?Is this some kind of joke?’

‘Afraid not, sir.’

‘You’re not Thomas’s daughter playing a trick?’

‘Sarah?No.Although she is assisting with our investigation.’

‘I’m… I don’t know what to say.This is terrible.I’m so sorry.’

Ella decided to keep the finer details of Thomas’s death to herself.This poor gentleman didn’t need to know that Thomas had been killed in the same manner as a case he’d written a book about.‘Would you mind if I asked you some questions?Mostly about this manuscript?If you need to verify my identity with a callback to my office, please do.’

‘It’s fine.I just searched your name online.Please ask anything you need to.’

She took a breath.‘So, this might sound like an odd question, but how did Thomas contact you?’