A serial killer stalks the London book world
When investigative journalist Tom Capgras finds his literary agent hanging from an oak beam in her West End office, an immaculately tied noose around her neck, his dreams of a non-fiction book deal appear dead in the water.
Bad day for him, worse for her. Joanne Leatherby’s death looks like suicide but Capgras suspects murder. Nonsense, say police, who dismiss him as a conspiracy crackpot.
At Joanne’s funeral Tom meets the alluring, mysterious Kiera Roche, a fellow writer who shares his suspicions. Together they uncover links to a string of untimely deaths – editors, publishers, reviewers, even book bloggers, killed for an unkind word.
Blood on the covers, death in the margins
The evidence points to one man – a mid-list author of detective tales with a career on the skids. Cast adrift by agents and publishers alike, his dreams thwarted, Arthur Middleton has gone over to the dark side and embraced self-publishing. It may be true, what Kiera says – that “ambition makes monsters of us all” – but how mad would a man have to be to kill for publicity, for book sales? Mad enough to admit everything on the pages of his latest blockbuster?
As the body count mounts, and the police refuse to take him seriously, Capgras must act alone, defy his critics and get to the truth fast – before the killer gets to him.
A crime thriller with a twist of satire – in the vein of Le Carré and Leonard, with a nod to Vonnegut, Jasper Fforde and Tom Robbins. The first book in the genre crossover series The Capgras Conspiracy.
