Page 91 of The Angel Maker

“Why did Hobbes want Chris to take the book?”

“I don’t know. Chris thought it was maybe because it was worth a lot of money—that it was kind of severance pay. But we had no idea how to sell it or anything. And then this guy phoned us. He said Hobbes had told him to get in touch about it. And so Chris made him an offer.”

“And this is who Chris went to meet at the café?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t give his name, and the money was almost too good to be true, so not taking the book along was meant to be an insurance policy. I was supposed to turn up with it once Chris had had a chance to feel him out and see if he was genuine. But then…”

Alderson trailed off helplessly. The guilt he felt over not going with Chris was obvious, and Katie could see him doing the same thing she had done once. Wishing he’d done things differently. Hammering on a door even though he knew it was sealed shut behind him.

“Where’s the book now?” she said.

Alderson nodded toward Chris’s backpack.

She put her glass on the table, then reached down and opened the cords sealing Chris’s bag.

“Hey—” Alderson started.

But she ignored him and began to discard the clothes packed at thetop. About halfway down the backpack, her fingers brushed against plastic, and she felt a jolt of electricity. Her hand recoiled as though it had burned her, but then she forced herself to reach in and pull it out.

An old notebook, wrapped in protective plastic.

She turned it around in her hands, her fingertips still tingling slightly wherever they touched it. The covers and spine were made of black leather, and there was a thick wedge of well-preserved pages between them.

The silence in the room began singing slightly.

It’s just a book, she told herself.

Which was true. That was all it was—just a horrible relic from the past. No matter what anyone else chose to believe, it contained nothing more than the deluded justifications of a child killer. And yet the book felt heavier to her than it seemed it should have, as though whatever scrawls of ink had been added to the pages inside had somehow doubled it in weight.

“Have you read it?” she said.

“God, no.”

“What about Chris?”

Alderson shook his head. Then he frowned.

“Are you…?”

Katie looked down at the book.

Without realizing it, her fingers had begun absently toying at the seal.

“No.” She put the book down quickly on the bed beside her. “I’m not interested in it.”

Then she began rummaging through her brother’s backpack again.

“What are you looking for?”

“Chris’s phone.”

“He had that with him.”

Of course he had; she wasn’t thinking. She looked up at Alderson and held out her hand.

“Give me yours.”

He hesitated, but the reluctance on his face only held for a couple of seconds. She could tell that a part of him wanted to take care of this himself,but the fact remained that he had called her. He was the same age as Chris, and right then Katie felt very much like the older sister. The one who took charge and sorted things out.

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