Gregor nodded. “Three people who borrowed books from our lending library have since vanished. Each borrowed a title with his handwriting inside. Each was last seen walking past this very door.”

“Because you’re the only customer who ever solved one of my cold cases.” Gregor’s eyes were flint. “And because last night, he wrote in the store copy of The Big Sleep . He left a message for you .”

Lena opened the folder. Inside were photographs of book pages. In the margins of a Patricia Highsmith novel, someone had written in precise, tiny script: “The first body was planted at 4 PM. You saw nothing.” In an Elmore Leonard: “Your alibi is a house of cards. I know the wind that blew it down.”